A Few of My Favorite Things: Nuns and Babies Part Two

"Holding a baby is one of the most beautiful things in the world.

How all they do is wave their arms and reach for your 

face and watch your every move. The way their little fingers

wrap all around your single one and their tiny toes

squirm all about. And when they sleep, surely it's an angel

in your arms. It's as beautiful holding the new life as it is 

holding the hand of an elderly person.

The peace is unexplainable."

- "Becca-ism"

    I cannot help but continue to reiterate how blessed my year has been. I am continuously simply in awe of His mighty goodness. I am so grateful for all God has given me. Once before, not too long ago, I did a blog post on nuns and babies. Well, friends, here's a part two. God has been so generous to me that I simply good not pass up this chance to once again proclaim my love for nuns and babies.

    Last night, slightly spur of the moment, my Dad, little sister and I decided to visit my aunt, uncle and seven cousins. Yes, that's right, I said seven cousins. You see, in our family, having lots of kids is pretty common. My Uncle Charlie and Aunt Maryanne have taken the cake on having the most kids. Not only that, but they also have the youngest kids, the youngest of whom is my most precious God-daughter. Last week, Emily turned one. That's a big deal for a little princess, you know. So part of our reason to go over was to give her her present. When we got there, it was close to seven. When we left, it was close to nine. Those two hours went by faster than you can believe.

    I'm known to be the biggest little kid in my family. I'm always the older cousin running around with the babies. I'm usually outside playing football with the younger boys or playing teacher or dress up with the girls. I'm not the older cousin who stands around contemplating the universe over a wine cooler. Nope, I'm playing with the kids. Last night was no different. I walked into the living room and as my dad tackled his brother, I wrestled the two boys into a big hug. My cousins, Albert and Charles, were dressed in super hero pajamas and so, being the teacher that I am, I asked them all about the superheros. Then I asked if I could be one. So, guess who I got to be?! Wonderwoman. I didn't know this, but apparently she has a lasso that forces the person in the lasso to tell the truth. So, I started a little game with the boys. If I caught them in my arms, my "lasso," they had to tell me one truth. Well our truths turned into riddles which the other made up. At 8 o'clock, the clock chimed and my aunt told the boys they had to go to bed. They almost cried because they didn't want to. Heck, I even cried. So, I asked if I could take the boys up to bed. 

       Now, I forgot to mention that every time one of the boys got an answer right to the question while in the lasso, they got a turkey five. They loved this and it had them deep belly laughing. It had me hysterically laughing, too. When we got to the top of the stairs, the boys were supposed to go to the bathroom and then go brush their teeth. Well, as little boys tend to do, they did NOT want any parts of this at all. So, I told them they if they didn't do their bedtime routine, they wouldn't get a Turkey Five. Didn't that do the trick?! Of course, I think the boys' favorite part was riding me up the stairs. Long ago, I had mastered the method of being able to carry at least three kids on me at one time. With only two of them, it was easy. Albert was on my back and Charles clung to me like a baby koala bear on the front. When they finished in the bathroom, they got to ride dinosaur Becca to their bedroom. Then I stood up, rolled down the blankets, and catapulted them into their beds. Of course, I had to tickle them until they laid down and then I tucked them in. My aunt came in for a good night kiss and then I demanded one, too. Of course, my good night kiss ended in a little blessing on their foreheads. 

       While I didn't get to hold my goddaughter much last night since she herself was getting ready for bed, I did get to play with her little brothers. Children, I very firmly believe, are closer to the angels than I'll ever be during my time here on Earth. In fact, they are angels themselves. I never tire of hanging out with my little cousins and I really wish they could all stay so little forever. My cousins give me the chance to be the kid I have inside. They give me a chance to kiss and hug angels. They give me a chance to play with the divine. I went home last night and couldn't have been happier. One might think that spending all this time with kids would make me want to have kids of my own and yes, this is true. But more often then not, spending time with all these kids make me want only be a that crazy Sister aunt lady who gets to play with all the kids because she doesn't have any of her own. This is especially so when my cousins answer the riddle: What do you call a traveling nun? By saying, "You, Becca?" Ha, yes, kids, I am an eventual traveling nun.

        When talking about my adventures with the kiddos last night, I mentioned that playing with them is as close to the divine as I can get aside from holding the hands of the elderly. This morning, I was blessed enough not only to go to Mass at the SBS Motherhouse, where my good friend, Katie D, once lived, but also to visit my other good friend, Sister Ruth Catherine. I had been told that Sister's memory is going and I was nervous that she wouldn't recognize me but when I went up to her room after Mass, she was so excited to see "her Becky." She had me sit down on her bed and then we chatted. I found triumph in only having to retell one story twice; all the others we only had to do once. Today was a good day for her. Toward the end of our visit, after asking me about how much I love teaching, she asked: "You know, Becky, I know you'll make a great teacher. Have you ever thought of religious life?" Sister Ruth asks me this question during every visit, I think because she just wants the thrill of hearing me say yes. So today, I told her: "All the time, Sister. In fact, never have I felt this much peace in my life until finally admitting to myself that I know where and to whom I belong." She grasped me hand, kissed my forehead and spoke with such joy in her voice. I smiled, almost cried, and thanked God for yet another triumph. She later linked my arm as we walked out of her room and I kissed her cheek goodbye with the reminder that I am always praying for her. She's simply beautiful.

       Yes truly, a few of my favorite things are nuns and babies. This Thanksgiving break, I got both my nun fix and my baby fix. I was so happy. I am so grateful. Both of these events gave me enough joy and stamina to get through these next two weeks of school before Christmas break. There is much to look forward to in these last two weeks and I know there will be so much for which I am grateful. Thank you, God, for baby cousins and nuns! And just a shout out to my favorite missed connection nun who called me while I was in the middle of this blog post: How big WAS that Rudolph blow up in the yard? Love you, AF! 

A Homecoming of a Different Kind

"Home, let me come home.

Home is wherever I am with you.

Mama, I'm coming home."

- Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

     There were more Sisters than usual at daily Mass on Saturday and the Motherhouse was covered in Sunflowers. I could hear the beautiful voices of my Sisters as I sat in the back part of Chapel among them. Right before Mass started, I got a huge hug from behind. Who was the culprit? None other than my newest best friend, Sister Margaret Peter. I held onto her tight, kissed her cheek and smiled. What a dearheart, I thought. Students always hate seeing their professors outside of school, but I love seeing my co-workers, my fellow teachers outside of the classroom, especially when it's a Sister. As angelic voices floated throughout the Chapel, I felt my heart beat uncontrollably in my chest. There was a peace, a continued peace of the past few weeks spent at the Motherhouse and on Campus with the Sisters, and I couldn't have been anymore grateful. 

     After Mass, after hugging all the Sisters who were there early to set up or help with food, I took a seat in the Portress office with my good friend, Erin. There we chatted about life, and watched as the Sisters continued to run into each other and spread love. I couldn't help but laugh every time a Sister ran down the hallway at one of her good Sister friends just for a hug. There was so much jubilation and hugs and nicknames; I wanted so badly to be a part of it. And wouldn't you know it, as soon as I said something like that, a Sister ran down the hallway...at me. You should have seen my smile. I was so happy to see her, I just kept hugging her. Of course, after she, at least five more of my dear Sisters from all over came through the Portress office and there were just hugs galore. 

     I was smiling ear to ear as some of my dear Sisters, after having seen me in the distance, walked (or ran) toward me with hands in the air so happy to see me. How humorous it is to see Sisters running toward you when usually you are the one running toward them. I received more hugs than I thought humanly possible in less than an hour. I saw some of my dearhearts from home, some from around town and of course, from the Motherhouse. I was in such a happy, go-lucky mood and honestly, nothing could change that for me. 

     When the Mother General walked into the Portress office, I was just explaining to Sister Rose how much I was loving the sunflowers in the Motherhouse. I looked at her and just exclaimed: "There are so many sunflowers everywhere! TELL ME WHAT THAT MEANS!" She laughed at me and just shook her head. Often, I am regarded as an entertaining little sister. This was one of those many times. Sister Rose was also laughing at me, but typically that's the majority of our conversation: laughing at and with one another. More and more Sisters began coming through and eventually, I told Erin that I had to leave so I could get some homework done today. As I was leaving the building, plenty Sisters who were driving in stopped the car to roll down their windows and say hello. Some even gave out hugs and kisses. The last person I saw before leaving was my favorite curly hair comrade, Sister Regina. When I get wiser like her, I want beautiful white hair like she has. 

     Part of me wanted to hop, skip and jump home to the dome, but crossing King Road is already dangerous enough. Seeing all those Sisters and those who once were Sisters, sincerely made my heart so happy. The family presented before me was HUGE and so loving. Yes, there are days and times and places, when just like in my own family, Sisters just don't get along. But yet, just as I do with my blood sisters, they love each other through thick and thin. It was a homecoming for those present and past IHMs. Being there to see such beautiful jubilation, if only for a few moments, was a pretty cool thing. It was such an wonderful witness. There wasn't a football game, there were no cheerleaders, just a lot (A LOT) of IHMs. 

     Of course, I think my favorite part of the day was when I kept getting asked if I was staying. I had to laugh; of course I wasn't staying. I was neither part of the past or the present. But the idea of future was mentioned. I smiled. Once again, I felt like family; a little sister. I felt in my heart that no matter where I end up, no matter what community I join, I will always somehow be welcomed home to this place of worship and family gathering. There's always going to be a spirit of homecoming for me, I guess. A homecoming of a different kind. 

I Got A Bid - One Rose Invitation

"Trust and trust alone should lead us to Love."

- St. Therese of Lisieux

     The countdown until the month of October, for me, is extremely intense. I cross off calendar blocks as if it's my job and the night before October 1, I can barely sleep. For me, the weeks leading up to the month of October is the same as for a little kid awaiting Christmas. October is my most favorite month of the whole year, and no, sorry Mary, it's not just because it's your birthday. Although, my life did change greatly on October 9, it's not the only reason why I love October. October 1st is in my top three favorite feast days of the saints of the year: St. Therese of Lisieux. The other two: St. Teresa of Avila (my spirit animal) and St. Katharine Drexel. These girls are my best friends and so from here on out will be referred to as Little T, Big T and Katie D. Feel free to call them by these nicknames as well. 

     This morning was one of the few mornings I've been able to leap out of bed at 5 am. Yes, friends, that's the early morning life of a student teacher. I was so excited after working behind the scenes with St. Therese last night, that I couldn't wait to get up and help deliver her special messages. I quickly got ready for school and then wrote a quick note to my lovely IHM Sisters at school who I have been missing so much (having to go out for Student Teaching means I don't get to join the on-campus Sisters for Mass every day...I miss them) before heading out the door. St. Therese asked that I deliver a few things to some certain people as a reminder of her love and guidance. Then, with two more roses in my hand, I got in the car and drove to the Motherhouse for Mass.

      A few days ago, I re-posted the Imagine Sisters' post about One Rose Invitation Day to the vocation directors in my life. In the style of St. Therese's Little Way, I wanted to participate and so that explains why I was helping out St. Therese last night and this morning. As I walked in the side door of the convent, I handed Sr. Rose her One Rose Invitation and we laughed as I told her, I think she might make a good Sister one day, that I'm praying for her and if she needs any help, I know of some great vocation directors she could talk to. We giggled as we searched the kitchen for something in which we could put the single rose. We scurried on to Chapel where right before entering through the doors, I saw Sister William Therese. Of course, I threw my hands in the air and greeted her with a bright and cheery "Good Morning, Sunshine. Happy Feast Day!" Hugging me, she said, "I'm so glad you come for Mass here; you make us all so happy." I couldn't help but smile.

     After sharing Mass together with my Motherhouse Sisters and greeting each Sister with a "Happy Feast Day!" I had enough time to join my Sisters in the Dining Room for some breakfast conversation. It was during this conversation that we brought up our own personal Therese stories and how she had touched each of us in a special way. Of course, we also brought up the One Rose Invitation. At this part of the conversation, Sister Rose mysteriously left the table and soon came back, placing a single rose in a vase in front of me on the table. Immediately tears started forming in my eyes. I had been so set on working behind the scenes with St. Therese and giving out my own One Rose Invitations that I never once thought, someone might give one to me. Of course, this giving of the rose resulted in a lot of cheering and awwing from the Sisters in the Dining Room. In sorority terms, ladies, I got a bid. 

     The One Rose Invitation is an initiative put forth by the Imagine Sisters campaign. The Imagine Sisters campaign works tirelessly to promote Vocations to the Religious Life for women. Their catch phrase reads: One Sister Can Change The World. Ain't it the truth? Today, October 1st, the feast day of St. Therese, who said when she died, she would send down a shower of roses to earth, is One Rose Invitation day. This means that anyone, after praying about it, can give a rose to a young woman who he or she thinks may make a beautiful Sister. The recipient of the rose can be someone who may have expressed interest in the religious life, might be steadily discerning, or may not have ever thought of religious life as an option before. Of course, I gave some roses to my Sisters...you know, just to confirm their vocations in case they were wondering. The giving of the rose is something simple to remind the recipients that those who are giving the roses are praying for them and their discernment. It's a simple, beautiful way to share prayer and the wonder of religious life.

     When I received my rose, it was a little more formal than how it may have been for many other young women today and when I thanked my Sisters, someone shouted: "So, do you think you might have a vocation, Bec?" I smiled and said: "I'm not quite sure...I should probably talk to a vocation director." We laughed and smiled as I had been discerning the religious life for so long and so many sisters know that joining a convent and a religious community is one my to do list from God. While I may not have needed a rose to confirm this, as the smiles of my Sisters every day confirm my vocation for me, it was a beautiful reminder that I am loved and thought of daily by these beautiful women who each had said yes to God so many years ago or so recently. 

     Not knowing where I was going to put my rose, since I had to school, I asked if I had to carry it around all day with me. One young novice said, "Yes, it's part of your process." My Sisters know that I often equate my joining of the convent to the joining of a sorority to make it easier for college students to understand. While my rose means nothing more than prayers and love and support from my sisters, it was almost as if they were saying, whenever you're ready, Bec. I got a bid. Of course, that's all up to God and where He wants me when He wants me. 

    I was so blessed to be able to do my share of working behind the scenes with St. Therese, sending One Rose Invitations to friends near and far and I was even more blessed to receive my own One Rose Invitation from my dear Sisters who truly know how to make waking up at 5 am worth it....every. single. day. Of course, I think my biggest blessing is knowing so many beautiful Sisters who have changed my world for the better. They had each in their own way changed my life so much that honestly, I have no idea where I'd be without them. I can't thank them enough for making one of my three favorite days of the year, a special one. Now here's to wondering what on earth they'll do for my number one girl, St. Teresa of Avila. Good news, they have a few days to plan ahead! 

Every Day Is Labor Day

"Work without love is slavery."

- Mother Teresa

     Did you know that the original date for the Labor Day holiday was February 21? Thank God, it's still not, because how else would we know when Summer was over? Did you know that only one state originally observed it? Way to go, Oregon! Did you know that the mandatory country wide observation of Labor day came as a result of multiple worker deaths during the Pullman Strike? In all honesty, how many Americans know what the real meaning is behind this day is. Typically we celebrate this day of labor with picnics, barbeques, swimming parties, and sales off every piece of white clothing in every store. And how funny it is that we celebrate Labor Day with a day free of labor...well, some of us. 

    My Labor day began just as any other day: with Mass. What was different, however, was the fact that I got to sleep in an extra hour and my sister, Mary, was with me. Of course, after Mass was a day out with my Sister shopping and then a picnic at Mommom and Poppop's house. However, the day wasn't a day free of labor for me. We baked over six dozen cookies AND I had Fortress Portress duty at the Motherhouse. But honestly, how could I complain? The first day back at Fortress Portress was a day I had been looking forward to since I arrived back in the States after Peru. 

     The first night back on Portress was anything but uneventful. Of course, we have three new lovebugs on deck for the year and training was night. Tonight was the perfect night for it, too. The Sisters were having a picnic dinner and everyone's spirits were high. Sisters were in and out of the Portress office and our laughter could be heard down the hallway and well into the kitchen. Our new Portress Girlies were already loving life. By six o'clock, training was over and the eery silence began to take over the Motherhouse. I settled well into my English readings. 

     Suddenly I was knocked out of literary imagination by the obnoxious fire alarm. Instantly panic overcame me and right away, I was on the phone calling my saving grace for the night, Sister Maureen. Within minutes, it was fine. I gave up trying to concentrate for the last half hour and began to laugh at the irony of the situation: here I was, sitting at the desk, working, on Labor Day, on my first day back and of course, it wasn't an easy night. The phone may have only rang once, but of course, the fire alarm had to just go off randomly. Yet, I was so happy. I was so happy to be back at the Motherhouse.

      This morning, Father's homily was so spot on. His message came back to my heart as I reflected on my joy. He spoke about how for the Sisters, every day is a Labor Day for them as they live and work in the same place. As I listened this morning, I was instantly stuck on the fact that "Labor Day is every day." I vaguely recalled from when I was younger how my dad used to say that every day was a Labor Day for him, so why should we take a day off. It was pretty legitimate, I thought. But it never really gave me anything to think about until today. Everyday is a Labor day for those who work, that's true and I guess we all deserve a day off. But in all honesty, my Sisters never take a day off, my parents never take a day off, and in hindsight, I can honestly say, I never take a day off.

      But it's not a day off from actual work, because those they take, we all take them. We all have a day off of work from the work force. But what is our real work? For my parents, a day off from parenting is non-existent and any parent can vouch for that. Even when the children are all grown up, parents will always worry about them. I know, even when I am at school, my mom and dad always want to know when I am safely home in my dorm room. For my Sisters, they are constantly loving (and dealing with me...). Every day, regardless of whether or not they are teaching, nursing, working, they are loving and being a Sister. Every day, they find themselves praying, going to Mass, being a Sister. Never take a day off. Of course, many can testify to the idea that I never take a day off. Some have told me, it's not good to never take a break, to never take a day for just relaxation. But in all truth, there is a force that drives my labor. It is love. 

     I heard once that labor, when done with love, is no longer labor. I don't see my days as laborious (although often I may use that word after sitting in class for an entire day) but rather fruitful. I may be exhausted at the end of every day, but when I am, I know my day was well spent doing the Will of God. My labor is not work, but love. If I think about what my mission is, I know that God has asked me to bring happiness and love to every life I come in contact with. So whether I am building houses in NOLA, feeding the homeless in Camden, teaching my students in Peru, answering the phone at the Motherhouse, or simply being a student, sister, friend, I am "laboring"; I am loving. 

     And so, in essence, I worked today. I spent my Labor Day, a day designated for a day off, picnicking, and ending Summer, working at the Motherhouse. But there, work does not exist. Yes, I might be doing a job, but really I am smiling, loving and learning from my Sisters about how to "labor with love" every day. I am a laborer in the vineyard for Jesus and God, and being a laborer means never taking a day off from loving and smiling and being the hands and feet of God. And honestly, I can't complain; working happily every day for God is actually a pretty big deal. 

High Reared Upon Thy Noble Hill

"Everytime you smile at someone, 

it is an action of love, 

a gift to that person, 

a beautiful thing."

- Mother Teresa

     There are days when I absolutely dread going to Immaculata, like on days when I have a final, or when I have to give a huge presentation. But even on those days, walking across back campus can always remind my face to smile. Maybe someone said hello, someone gave me a hug, or I just happened to look up at the dome but regardless, even on those days I dread the most, IU always reminds me why I choose it: it's all around absolute beauty. Yesterday, however, wasn't a day that I was dreading traveling to IU. In fact, I was more than excited to be going home to the dome, even if only it was for a visit. It always seems on days like that, when I am more than excited to be going home to the dome, I drive faster there and slower on my drive back to Croydon.

     Right after Mass at my parish, I jumped in the car to begin the journey back to the Noble Hill of IU. I found myself belting out country music songs at the top of my lungs with the windows down all the way to school. You could easily say I was in my happy place. This was especially true when my favorite station started playing some Zac Brown Band. As I cruised down the turnpike visions of my friends and cookouts danced in my head. Of course, I couldn't wait to visit some of my favorite Sisters. 

    I parked my car and immediately went to check in with Sister Cathy...but she was a nun missing in action. So I left her a package and went on my way to the Motherhouse. I left some presents in various mailboxes and had such beautiful conversations with my Sisters there. We talked about everything from Peru to coming back to school. Without a doubt, they always know how to put a smile on my face. I may dread going to work for the amount of homework I have to get done, but without a doubt, they always make it worth it for me. Whether they come just to chat or they come in for business, when I am beyond that desk at work, I'm smiling because they make it worth it for me. If I ever need a pick me up, I go to visit the nuns and the Motherhouse Sisters definitely set the beautiful precedent to a wonderful day yesterday for me. I spent a little over an hour there in the office conversing and hugging and catching up with "My Girls." I wouldn't have had it any other way. 

    After my adventures there, I headed back over to school for our NSO BBQ. It was so great to see a good amount of my friends just to eat, kick back and chat. We laughed, joked around and had the good eats but before we knew it, we were breaking up the party. Some were starting vacations, others had long drives home and still others had good plans for the weekend. As for me, I still had a lot of visiting to do. 

     When we finished our get together, I found myself walking down the familiar road to another familiar place: Camilla Hall. I had a mission and that was to sneak in some brownies and cookies to Sister Marie. Of course, Lord knows she probably shouldn't eat them, but she was going to. I knew that if she was at home, she would eat the brownies I made for the Sisters in her house anyway. And so, I successfully snuck in her treats and found myself chatting away with this dearheart for almost two hours. Sister Marie had been such a mentor to my little sister, Lizzie, during her first year at her new school. I definitely accredit this woman with all of Lizzie's success in adjusting to St. Charles and I don't think she will ever know how grateful I am to her. Whenever I would see her at school, she would always be so excited and welcoming to see me. I couldn't help but feel right at home with her. And now that she has moved, I can't hide my excitement that I might get to see her a little more than usual.

     While we were talking, so much of my personal philosophy was reiterated. Camilla is a place I love so much, perhaps as much as I love the Motherhouse, but maybe a little more. Whenever I step foot in the front door, I am greeted with a smile and there are just so many Sisters there who have hugs ready. The Sisters there definitely remind me why I want to do what I want to do, that is, what God is calling me to do. In these Sisters, especially in Sister Marie, I see a life so ecstatic even now after they have served in so many various ways. They are still smiling, they are still completely in love with God and they are, beyond all other things, one hundred percent human. I simply love them all so much and I cannot wait to be one hundred percent a part of their joy. 

    I could hardly believe I spent almost two hours just talking with Sister Marie. We brought up so many topics and it was so easy to talk with her.Of course, toward the end of our conversation, I found myself almost in tears as we talked about the dignity of human life. So often, when we think of Pro-Life issues within our church, immediately our minds go toward the dignity of the unborn child. Believe me, I am such an advocate for the sanctity of that life, I also truly believe that our elderly are forgotten. As I told Sister Marie, I feel that our elderly, especially our older Sisters, are forgotten by the outside world, especially if they can no longer communicate as well as they used to or are bedridden. Yet for me, those are the Sisters I feel so connected with; I have a soft spot in my heart for them. I love stopping in their rooms, just to say a prayer or two for them or with them, or just to sit and hold their hands. That, for me, is life-giving. They have given so much, and through them, I am encouraged to plow through, to persist this religious life. They give me hope. As I was speaking this to Sister Marie, I found my eyes welling with tears because of the truth. I promised her I would visit often once I got back to school and we could engage in many more heart to hearts. Oh what a joy it is to have such a friend in a Camilla Sister. 

     After my visit to Camilla, I headed on through the grotto as I anticipated the arrival of my long lost Peruvian Sister, Lauren. We hadn't seen each other since the day we arrived back in the States from our lovely excursion to South America and it was long past time to catch up. We headed down the Noble Hill to a little place called Mi Pais which specializes in South American dishes. Of course, we sat down and immediately wanted empanadas. We sat in our little booth, surrounded by Peruvian artifacts and art, for almost two hours (two is the magic number today) and enjoyed all the food we ate. Oh wow was it perfect. We looked through the pictures, we reminisced and laughed so hard. We proposed a trip back next Summer and you can bet your bottom dollar, it will happen. 

    We had one final stop while at the Noble Hill and that was to beckon Sister Cathy down from her room for a visit. The dear lady obliged and we continued our stories of Peru. But oh, is there so much more to tel her. But we showed her the pictures and laughed even more as we shared our adventure with her. Laughing with Sister Cathy could easily be one of my most favorite things to do in all the world. I find myself, each time, wanting to stay and laugh or share some more. She has, in the past three years, become more than a mentor to me. It seems so ironic to me that we live life so fully without knowing which people will touch our lives and then when a person, like Sister Cathy, touches our life in such a way, we wonder how we ever lived so fully without them. That's how I feel with Sister Cathy; how could I have ever lived life without her. And yet, I know God truly had a plan when He blessed me with her. 

     Our hug goodbye was bittersweet and I found myself wishing I told her one thing or another about Peru or about life in general. I am so used to seeing her every day during school that during the summer time, I find myself often wishing I could run across Back Campus to her office to share whatever it is I need to. Sometimes I feel like she is my open diary, but alas, God always has a plan and we are always exactly where we need to be at every moment in time. Oh gosh, I miss her already. She sent us off on our way after inspecting our nun cars and before I knew it, I was on my way back home. However, in the rear view mirror was the most beautiful sunset I had seen in awhile. As if I couldn't tell at any moment during my day, my adventure at the Noble Hill was certainly a blessed one. 

    I can honestly say that on any given day at the Noble Hill, one of the greatest reminders of why I choose that place for school, is because of the Sisters. Without them, Immaculata would just be any other school for me. But with them, they make it perfect. They keep me on track, they keep me smiling, they keep me in prayer and they give me the encouragement to keep on keeping on. Even on the roughest days, when I think that I could easily just give up on this discernment, they are right there beyond me, especially my dear Sister Cathy, subtly reminding me that there is more to this life than that which meets the eye. There is more to this religious life that outweighs any heartache or trouble within. Yes, that's the truth. Because without their very human example, I would probably have thrown in the towel. Yes, I think I am beginning to know the reason behind why God wanted me at Immaculata. It is here that I have met some of the strongest people I know and I am so blessed. Oh yes, so blessed being high upon this noble hill. 

     

Toughin' and Roughin' It Like the Real Nuns...the Snow Story

       I love snow. I love the way it smells, I love the way the sky never gets dark after a snowfall, I love how you can never tell how late it really is outside, I love how everyone stays inside when it snows and I love simply laying in the snow! When I was a kid it took forever to get me back inside the house. I would layer up and be outside long before any of the other kids. I would build forts, snow men, go sledding. You name it, I did it. I just love snow. 

        And the truth is, I love summer, too. But most times I'd rather it be colder outside. You can always put more on than you can take off, I like to say. But most times, I don't wear too many layers in the snow anyway. The cold simply doesn't bother me. And so yesterday, when I found out it had snowed, I mentally prepared my outside for the snow. A pair of leggings and jeans with a heavy sweater and a coat. Shoes? Flats. I headed out of the dorm building fifteen minutes before Mass started and was met by the group of Sisters from the college driving over to the Motherhouse. Before I could object to a ride, they threw me in the back seat, and sped away. Ok actually, the gently asked me if I wanted a ride...if I helped clear off the car. Ok. No big deal. Sure. So we drove over. No one thought about my lack of layered outfit until I left the building after Mass. I walked right into a group of the sisters who were coming from a nearby Parish and I just happened to know them pretty well. First thing they said, "Aren't your feet cold?" Without missing a beat, I replied, "I'm just toughin' it out like the real nuns." We all laughed as they looked at their shoes; no better than my own. And then Sister said, "You're right, Bec, just like Theresa Maxis in Michigan. Right through the snow to the little log cabin." Yep, just like their foundress, I trudged through the snow back to my little dorm building.

      Now mind you, the snow fun hadn't ended there. Later that night (and I mean later...like 9:30PM) my best friend and I took his sleds out to the Motherhouse hills and went sledding. For a good hour and a half, we played like little kids in the snow. It was perfect!! 

Oh, and I couldn't help but post the picture of all the nuns' coats and boots lined up in the hallway; way too precious!