What's Your Price Tag? - A Story of Chastity

"We must practice modesty, not only in our looks, 

but in our whole deportment, and particularly in our dress, 

our walk, our conversation, and all similar actions."

- St. Alphonsus Ligouri

    If you were to randomly walk in my Catholic Social Teaching class today or yesterday or even last week you would probably have some of the following initial thoughts: where is the rest of the class? are there really that many students out sick? why are the lights off? why are they listening to music during prayer? and many more. The rest of my class does not exist; I have a whopping six this quarter. While many teachers may panic at that thought, I have fallen in love with this notion. Usually all six are present, however, it still makes the class seem small. We usually leave the lights off because the sun shines perfectly through the windows; why use extra energy when natural energy is sufficient? And finally, what better way to pray than by praying twice (St. Augustine)? However, also upon walking into my class these past few days, you would have heard conversations concerning the be C word. That's right Chastity. You would have seen it on the board, on our iPads, in our Google Docs and definitely on our lips. Chastity in Social Justice? But of course. 

      I typically do not post about controversial topics but the Spirit has really been moving me to write about this topic. Besides, I have no qualms preaching the usually unpopular Social Justice views of the Church in my class (maybe it's because they pay me? Just kidding!) so why shouldn't I continue my call to share awareness? Upon first thought, one may not think that Chastity has a place in a Social Justice classroom. One might also think that Humanae Vitae is a Church Document rather suited for college students studying Marriage and Family, not High School students. But each time I assign the 1968 Papal Encyclical written by Pope Paul VI, I am continuously made proud of my students who pull apart the document and summarize and understand it. Today, my students finished reading a part of Humanae Vitae and once again, I was the proud teacher. 

     Without trying to get too heady, Article 2 of Humanae Vitae addresses various issues permeating our society today such as contraception, IVF, responsible parenthood, marriage. It indirectly leads to conversations about abortion, euthanasia, adoption, and other beginning/end of life issues about which Catholic Social Teaching is concerned. So now, you, in brief, understand why I require my students to read this document. A document which, by the way, I have seen college students struggle with understanding. Last week, I introduced our reading of Humanae Vitae by putting the word CHASTITY on the board. After getting a brief definition from a student, I quickly put a slash through the word and asked for results of a negligence to practicing chastity. The conversation quickly filled up the front board and the entire side board (yes, despite technology permeating the hallways of the school, I still used chalk and subsequently fulfilled my teacher dream of getting chalk all over my pants) with Social Justice issues that stem from a negligence to practicing Chastity. Imagine their surprise when such huge Social Justice issues were connected with such a "simple" topic of Chastity. 

     My students are aware of the fact that I am 4-5 years older than they are. While many professors would encourage would be teachers to NOT reveal their ages to their students, especially if there is a small age gap, I feel it is necessary for my students to know that I am a part of their generation. There is a comfort in the classroom when it comes to discussing various topics and also, my "young age" stands as proof that it is possible to live a CATHOLIC life and still be normal (a relative description, of course). My favorite part of teaching CST is the beginning of life issues, because so many start with Chastity, a topic so rarely touched in today's society. Why is it my favorite? Well, because being so young and so close in age to my students, I can see the thinking gears going when I mention that Chastity is possible. 

     As I was preparing for my class today, I was blessed to talk to a good friend's mom on the phone. She is coming to guest speak to my class in two weeks about adoption and we were going over some topics of discussion. I caught her up on what my students will know by the time she comes to visit and somehow, we got to talking about reading Humanae Vitae and practicing Chastity. She mentioned how rare it is that young people hear about the importance of chastity from other young people. We started talking about how women are so much more under attack from the devil because of our vulnerability. While it is true that both man and woman are needed for the creation of a new child, the woman carries the new life. Without her temple, the child could not be born. Eve, a woman (in case you forgot) was targeted before Adam because women are naturally modeled to be more emotionally vulnerable than men. It is a beautiful thing, truly, but the devil knows this to be true and attacks it at any given chance. Today, this is also true. He continues to attack the vulnerability of women. He confuses the minds of young women by falsely showing physical actions as emotional love. He confuses the minds of young women by giving them every "good" reason to neglect the practice of chastity. 

    I brought this up to my students in class after we finished reading and summarizing Humanae Vitae. Of course, teaching in an all girl school usually means that students are chopping at the bit to discuss feminism at any given chance. Isn't it a feminist argument in talking about being under attack by the devil? I think so. I took advantage of our class today (a true teachable moment) to talk gently about Chastity. Many Catholics grow up with the belief that "sex is bad;" a very Puritan take on relationships. However, the Church believes quite the opposite. Humanae Vitae clearly says that the marital acts between a man and woman are good; procreative and unitive yielding a beautiful marriage. With very logistical reasons, I explained to my students why the Church believes in Chastity and the thinking gears were turning as they began to understand that sex within marriage is a beautiful thing, especially after a life of Chastity is pursued before marriage. 

     The truth is this: a life of chastity pursued before marriage yields fidelity in a marriage. By one's physical action of waiting for marriage, one proclaims, by his or her body, that the physical gift of self belongs only to the spouse. It proclaims, "I will wait until I verbally give my whole self to you, to give my whole self physically." A practice of chastity before marriage yields greater, more wholesome marriages and families. A practice of chastity leads to true, loving sexual relationships with the purpose of being unitive and procreative. Of course, all of this can be found in Church Documents and Encyclicals. But where is Chastity in society?

     Having sex is so often regarded as a right of passage of sorts in relationships. For example, if two people have been in a relationship for six or nine months (or any given amount of time) and not yet have had sex, then something must be wrong, right? Wrong. There is the familiar concept of getting to second and third base and scoring a home run. But why? Does it grind my gears when people ask I've "done anything yet" in my current relationship? Yes. Because quite honestly, yes I've done some things....some things like watch Netflix, go ice skating, hold hands, go out to dinner, go for walks in the snow with my dog, go on wholesome double dates with my ten-year old Sister and her 8 year old boy best friend. But "done anything yet" is said with the indication that is the question is not "what type of dates?" but rather "what level of sexual achievement have you reached?" Why is it so hard to believe that chastity is practiced? Because the devil permeates society by saying that sex is the only way to express love. 

     My students know how much chastity permeates my heart. It is not only by my personal witness and story telling, but rather my passion in classroom instruction, that they understand the importance of chastity in my own life. In the beginning of the quarter, I start the course by explaining to them that we are Princesses because we share in the royalty of God both because we are made in His image and because He has made use with such great price. God intends us each to be a pearl of great price, not fake gold. (Trust me when I say, pearl earrings cost way more than gold plated sterling silver). God's intent was to make us so beautiful and for each of us to recognize the beauty in each other. I am a pearl and my students are pearls; I am not to treat them like cheap gifts. I am not to treat them less than their true value of Imago Dei and vice versa. The same is implied when it comes to chastity. My students are young women to be treated by young men as the pearls of great price. They are to be treated as true gifts. 

       I tell my students often that "what you wear and how you act is what you advertise." By their actions and attire they proclaim a price tag. They are pearls of great price but society so often encourages us to cheapen ourselves to a "lesser price." That is the devil after us. He puts false advertisement on sex; there is no disclaimer about the negative effects. The devil falsely proclaims that sex empowers whereas the reality is that chastity empowers. My virginity is a gift I am saving. We wouldn't give a strand of pearls to just anyone, right? If I am called to marriage, that gift is reserved for my husband and it is a gift he will receive only after we say "I do." If I am called to religious life, it is a gift I offer to Jesus and I ask Him to make me fruitful in spiritual ways. 

      Practicing chastity is not easy and it is a daily prayer of mine. I pray for the ability to remain chaste and for my students to find the beauty in remaining chaste. I tell my students every day that we must be women who, "when we wake up in the morning, the devil says, 'oh crap, she's up.'" By my very prayers for chastity, I am already stomping all over the devil's plan to lessen my price tag. By practicing chastity, we ruin the plans of the devil. If that is not empowering for women, I don't know what is. 

      Now, I was going to wait until Valentine's Day to share the following with many of you, but I feel this topic lends itself to the story. It is with full understanding that I very much still feel the desire and call to religious life that I was asked out on a date many times my Senior year. It was with that strong desire still permeating my heart that I denied the request for a date. Of course, the pure pursuing continued the summer after graduation until finally, after much prayer, I felt God was asking me to try the dating scene one more time. (I think I will share that story on Valentine's Day...be sure to check back!) Being 22 and 23 years old, there is no question that the sexual "norms and pressures" surround our relationship. But there is nothing more empowering than hearing, "I will wait for you." You see, he waited a whole year (maybe more) for me to simply agree to go on a date. He promises me that waiting longer for the beauty of sex is worth the wait. He tells me that it makes him stronger as a Catholic man. He tells me that I am the pearl of great price and I am beautifully deserving chastity. Of course, what truly melts my heart is when he tells me that he knows religious life is still a viable option for me. He knows that I may very well enter religious life, even after dating him. He knows that our dating relationship is part of the discernment process. It is with this knowledge that he reminds me that there is no way he could ask me to give up my gift prematurely if it is meant to be given to Jesus. 

     Of course, I would be remiss if I didn't mention this: when I teach CST, I am pray for gentleness. Many Social Justice issues are wake-up calls to my students. However, our Church preaches gentleness and compassion overall. It would not be following the example of Pope Francis if I did not mention compassion toward those who may have read this and felt that it was too late to practice chastity. Statistics say that teenagers and even children are losing their innocence sooner and sooner. It is with much compassion that I address the beginning of life issues formerly mentioned in this post and even greater compassion that I address chastity. I remind my students, especially when the question of "am I going to hell now?" comes up, of the story of Jesus and the woman caught in the act of adultery. Jesus said, "Let the one without sin be the first to cast the stone." My job as teacher is not to condemn but rather to love the sinner not the sin. Pope Francis encourages us to love unconditionally, without judgement. And so I say this, when talking about chastity, I remind my students that there is always a chance for starting over, for reconciliation. When an expensive piece of jewelry gets chipped or upset in some way, we take it to the jeweler to be fixed and refurnished. Jesus in the Sacrament of Reconciliation is our jeweler, fixing the dents, cracks and scrapes in our pearls of great price. 

    Living out chastity is so difficult in our society today. Many of our Social Justice issues can be traced back to a negligence to practicing chastity, however, now is the perfect time to start anew. Now is the time to begin living out chastity for ourselves and being that example for our young people. Now is the time to start learning about how we can be Social Justice Advocates simply by living out chastity. And of course, now is the time to start promoting healthy dating relationships that lead to beautiful and wholesome marriages. Now is the time to recognize our worth as the pearl of great price. Now is the time to up the price on our price tag! 

Princesses and Super-Heroines

"We are all made in the image and likeness of God.

God in king. If we are made in His likeness, we, too, are royalty. 

Let's learn to treat each other as such."

- Miss G

    Yesterday was my very first day of teaching my very first official class. It's been a day that I have been waiting for...for, well, as long as I can remember. I was like a little kid on Christmas morning. For what seems like forever, I have wanted to teach. I remember teaching my stuffed animals, my younger sisters, my peers and realizing that I must be called to be a teacher. As I started my college career and taking education classes, that realization turned into a dream and now, it's a reality. The margins of all my notebooks in college were covered in random lesson plan ideas and brainstorming for ways to present various types of material. I would think of something and write it down to save it for my eventual classes. All last week, ideas were busting out of every single crevice of my brain and onto the paper. However, the idea I had for my very first class came from a conference that I attended a while back and a Christian singer-songwriter. I'd like to share that with you now. 

     The name of the song is "Hello, My Name Is...." written by Matthew West (listen below). I had heard the song many, many times but it simply was another good song on KLOVE. That was until I found myself at the Women of Faith Conference during which Matthew West was performing. He presented to us the inspiration behind his latest album: other people's stories. And behind the story of this particular song is a young man Jordan who used to introduce himself as "Hello, my name is Jordan and I'm a drug addict." The story was about Jordan's addiction to painkiller drugs after a brutal accident on the field. After some therapy and rehab, however, Jordan can now proudly introduce himself in this way, "Hello, my name is Jordan and I am a Child of the Risen King." This concept got me truly thinking and honestly, I spent the next hour jotting down an activity for my class rather than listening to the next speaker. Here's what I came up with:

      The class I teach is titled, Catholic Social Teaching. For those of you who know me, you know that CST is one of my biggest passions for many reasons but mostly because it provides me with an outlet to be a very loud and proud, Catholic, woman. CST is often referred to the Church's Best Kept Secret. There's no question about it that many Catholics in today's day and age do not know about it. However, our present Pope is doing a awful lot to promote it. The first thing that everyone needs to know about CST is that it begins and ends with Human Dignity. Human Dignity is not something we are all often mindful of. Human Dignity is expressed in the way we smile or don't smile at people we pass by, the way we drive, the way we treat those by which we are surrounded, those who would not necessarily give attention to, etc. Labels are things that often inhibit us from expressing human dignity because instead of referring to someone by their name, we refer to them by their negative attributes. In the example of Jordan: he was referred to as the Drug Addict, not Jordan. 

     And so, I encouraged the students to write down their names on some "Hello, my name is..." stickers. Then I asked them to write a negative attribute that they associate with or a sin that they often battle with. I suggested words like regret, lack of self-esteem, quiet, etc. We listened to the song and then I asked if anyone wanted to share their labels. Afterward, I played the video for them. In the story, there's a theme of redemption. At the end, Jordan says, "I no longer say, 'I am a drug addict' but rather, 'Hello, my name is Jordan and a child of the one true King." I had the girls then write positive labels for each other. Labels that would recognize their human dignity. Then again, I asked for anyone to share. One student said, "I wrote down sheepish for my negative. And she wrote 'leader of the herd.'" It was so perfect. 

     I later went on to explain that we are all made in the image and likeness of God. God is the King...He is royalty. Therefore we are made in the image and likeness of royalty, thus, making us all princes and princesses. They all really liked that concept. But the curve ball was this: WE ARE ALL...so why are there instances when we don't treat others like the princes and princesses we are? If we believe we are princesses and request to be treated as princesses, why can we not fulfill the same requests of our brothers and sisters, our fellow princes and princesses? It was a thought provoking conversation and we left the classroom thinking about being princesses and treating others just the same. 

      My next day's lesson began with a creative writing prompt. The prompt read: create a super-heroine and describe her character. Explain how she promotes human dignity and why that is a super power. Of course, I asked a few students to share. After that I professed that each of us could easily be that super-heroine. We each have the super-powers to promote human dignity. Even if we don't wear a crown or a cape, we are still princesses and super-heroines. 

      While it may sound pretty cheesy to teach this to 17 and 18 year old girls, the truth of the matter is this: as kids we pretended to be princesses and super-heroines. We really believed that we could do that. So...why can't we do it anymore? Why can't we treat each other like the royalty that we are? We can't we start saving the world little by little to promote human dignity? I don't see why not...We need to go back to the beliefs we had as children, as little girls. Children have the deepest belief of God and goodness...we need to go back to that. 

     And so...think about your labels. Transform them into prince or princess, super-hero or heroine. Realize that all of those surrounding you are royalty, made in the image and likeness of God, the King. Treat each other like royalty, with dignity, with truth and with justice. Simple be kind and love. 

To Whom It May Concern. Sincerely, Rejection

"I am crying over the loss of something I never had.

How ridiculous. Mourning something that never was - 

my dashed dreams, dashed hopes, and my soured expectations."

- E.L. James

    In these past months I have experienced everything from the rush of being a new graduate to the adventure of being FREE to the anticipation of hearing from potential employers to the anxiety of being rejected by the same potential employers. What's tough about being in education is that in order to apply anywhere for teaching, you need to have your certification. The tough part about that is you can't get certified until after graduation and even then, it might take a while. So needless to say, my summer was filled with lots and lots of waiting.

    It started out as an excited adventure. I was a new graduate, I had just gotten back from my two weeks in Peru and things were looking great. I had a few promising potential employment options and so, I decided to give myself a week or so of Summer before I started typing up resumes and letters and then mailing them out. Sooner or later, I was getting all sorts of clearances in the mail but not my certification yet. But finally, it came. While I was waiting, I had gotten a call for a seemingly really promising potential employer. I had a personal connection with the school, it seemed to be something that would be perfect for a first year or two teaching, and it was a comfortable spot. The interview went so well and I was getting excited. I even let myself dream up classroom decorations and lesson plans before I heard back. I was so sure that I was going to get this job because I (and everyone under the sun) was praying for me to get the job. A week passed and I was in the middle of answering an email when my phone started ringing. Here it is, I thought, the call. I was so ready to accept the position that when they told me I wasn't chosen for the job, it didn't quite register. 

    In the process of waiting to hear back from this potential employer, I put every other resume and cover letter on hold. I was so sure that this job was mine that I stopped panicking about getting a job. At this point it was now early-July. I had only about six weeks left of summer…that was, of course, if I got a teaching job. 

     The phone call hit me hard and I actually let myself have a debbie downer day during which I stayed in bed and cried every other hour because I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. How was I ever going to use my degree? How was I going to pay off my loans? How was I going to move on with my post-grad life? How? How? How? I was so upset that a friend had to come and cheer me up a little bit. It worked but the next day, I used my blues as motivation to find a job. I searched the Archdiocesan website for DRE and Youth Ministry jobs. I sent out five letters that day and one by one the emails came back informing me that the positions had just recently be filled. Rejection again. I finished my education application packets for the Archdiocese and sent them off. Nothing. I applied to the local county library system. Again, nothing. I even applied to Barnes and Noble just as a side job to hold me over until I got a real job. I was rejected from not just one store location but two. I was starting to feel a little hopeless. That's when another friend who had been on the lookout for his own job, sent me a link for a Campus Ministry position. The application was due in two days. I sent it as soon as I could. 

     After waiting a few days, I heard back and was asked to set up a phone interview. I was so nervous that I completely messed up answering the first question. I thought I bombed the interview. But that afternoon, I got a second phone call. This time, they wanted to set up a second interview. In less than 24 hours I had to prepare multiple facets of information and material to present to an esteemed board of five administration members. I was sick to my stomach as I drove the forty minute drive to the school. I was conscious about everything from my nail polish color to my shoe choice. But I made sure I wore my BVM blue just for luck. I knew I had a an army of people praying for me so I had to let go and let God. When I did, I was amazed. 

    I was told there was one other applicant and that they would be in touch. The following week, I was on vacation with my family when I got yet another phone call. I was being called in for a third interview. At this point, I was thinking, well this is mildly extensive and maybe quite ridiculous. But the more I learned about the job, the more I wanted it. I was going to do everything I could to get it. But at the same time, I was so used to rejection by this point that I was almost sure I wasn't getting the job. I left the house the morning of my third interview with cover letters and resumes in envelopes ready to be mailed off to three more schools if I didn't get the job. Of course, a dear friend told me that they wouldn't ask me to drive all the way out to the school for a third interview if they weren't too interested. I agreed, but still was hesitant. I made the decision to not get my hopes up like I had for the last really promising job so that if I was rejected, my hopes and dreams didn't have as far a drop when they came crashing down. 

    They never asked me to prepare anything for the third interview so I basically went in cold-turkey like I had for the phone interview. This time, however, there were only two people sitting in front of me. I was asked a few more questions and when the principal asked me if I wanted to job and why, I had tears fill my eyes as I spoke about my passions. My whole life, the thing that fueled every little event of my life was my faith. This job in Campus Ministry would not only give me an outlet to keep on doing what I have been doing (service, liturgy, retreat, teach), but it would be a greater outlet for me to reach young women much like myself and allow them to do the same. If that didn't scream passion, I don't know what would have. When I finished answering, the president offered me the job. A smile grew and grew and grew across my face. I couldn't believe it. I was finally employed. I was accepted, not rejected. 

    In all of my endeavors in trying and trying to get employed, I kept lessening and lessening my expectations. I had what I thought was my dream job in mind and it was the first one to reject me. After that I started looking for jobs further and further away from my what my major was. I had always wanted to teach. But then I started looking for positions that weren't teaching but still had a religious aspect to them. Then I was looking at things that didn't even have them. And all the while, people were praying and praying for me to find a job. I remember one week visiting the IHM Motherhouse when every Sister kept asking me if I had gotten a job yet. They suddenly had faces of determination when I said no. They were going to pray even harder. Some suggested Mary in the style of IHM life, but others suggested St. Joseph, the great provider. 

   I was anxious, I must admit. But there was also a huge calm over me. In my relationship with God, I have learned that I always have to wait for good things to come my way. I had to trust that God was going to provide for me. I knew He was going to, I just didn't know when or where. I was trying to do my part, but again, it was rejection after rejection after rejection. There had to be something in all of this negative news. I was sure God was going to give me something, anything. Then, I started praying to St. Joseph myself. I kept praying to Mary (hoping she would gently push her husband to, you know, getting me a job), but I added St. Joseph to the prayer list. (I had even started praying to St. Jude, patron of hopeless causes….). Then suddenly, I was provided with a job. The connections my new job has with St. Joseph are astronomical and I know this is truly a gift from God. 

    What I learned from all this rejection in my life this past Summer was that often God allows some good things not to happen so that GREATER things CAN. So for example, all those jobs that I was applying to were good, the first one was a perfect fit, but God had something better in mind. Of course, I only saw the negative rejection at those moments. However, I was still sure that God was going to provide for me. If it wasn't for a slight positive attitude, the rejections would have gotten to me. But, I was holding on to my thin string of creative hope and praying that God would provide.

    When I landed to job, I was overjoyed. The more and more I learn about what I get to do, the more I know that this is the job God had in store the entire time. I get to coordinate service trips and projects, I get to plan liturgies (with the music!!), I get to plan retreats, I get to minister with a group of amazing young women, I get to teach a class on Catholic Social Teaching, I get to be the best Becca I can be and love every moment of living out my job. I get the feeling that God created this job for me. I feel like He literally handed it to me personally. This job was made for me. 

     Someone asked me today how I found this school. I laughed a little and said, I didn't find it, it found me. I never in a million years would have looked at the school employment site for a job if it hadn't been for the friend who sent me the link. I never thought about doing Campus Ministry after four years of English/Secondary Ed in school, even though before college that's all I ever wanted to do. I get to teach Theology, something I wanted to do from the very beginning. I get to do everything that I've fallen in love with doing the past four, if not more, years. God hooked me up real sweet. 

     This Summer was a rough one with lots of ups and downs. I was facing lots of rejection and lots of challenges. I was up against what seemed to be the world, but I knew that my God would take care of me. I trusted enough to hang on until the my thread of hope was very thin. I called on my spiritual mother to take care of me with her gentle compassion. I asked St. Joseph to provide as he did for his beloved family so many times. I prayed and prayed and so did so many others. (I can't thank you all enough, you know!). I am so happy and so beyond grateful that this place found me. God is so good. 

Introducing Mama Mary to the Methodists

"Gentle Mother, Peaceful Dove,

teach us wisdom, teach us love."

- "Hail Mary, Gentle Woman" Carey Landry

     It was time for one of my most favorite weeks of the Summer: Vacation Bible School. I was anxious to be back in the grove of actually doing something with my Summer, but also because I got to spend a week with some of my favorite people on Earth. It's only one week a year that I really get to see them, unless we bump into each other in the neighborhood. But, as Miss Char and I agreed at the end of the week, when we do finally see each other after a year, it's like no time lapsed. And that, my friends, is due to the fact that we carry each other in prayer every day.

     I couldn't wait to meet my group of favorite ladies Saturday morning to help set up for VBS the following week. There is nothing quite like carrying around the giant industrial roll of packaging tape and struggling with every rip. Of course, really I was looking forward to all the hugs and laughter that often come when I'm with them. It's always like being welcomed back into a family. And my favorite part of the morning came when Miss Carol essentially tackled me on the ground with a hug that simply said, "Bec, I've missed you."

     Monday, orange night, the first night of VBS came quickly. Our theme for the week: "Workshop of Wonders." Essentially we were talking about all the ways we can imagine, build, grow, walk and work with God. Of course, every time this was said, the room erupted in a shout of "GEAR UP." I was blessed yet again to be working with the always lovely "Miss Christine" and "Miss Kelsey." Words cannot describe these lovely ladies. They simply amaze me with their selflessness and I've seen it throughout the years. The best part about our trio...we are all the same age. Yep, you got that right: the youngest VBS teachers. We are a triple threat. The night began with a welcome, lots of bathroom runs, and a little bit of anxiety from some new comers. Yet, the end of the night, there was a sigh of relief from all of us: we were blessed with a particularly sane group of first and second graders. That was until Tuesday night came along....

    Tuesday night we were blessed with a few new lovely students. We now officially had a full class: fifteen. The whisper of a blessing of a particularly difficult student joining our class started surfacing and I couldn't seem to figure out which one he or she was. Of course, when we got to the workbook segment of our night (literally only about a half hour into the night), there was no need to guess. It was clear that this particularly difficult child had to be the sticker fiend. As the night wore on, the triple threat team was getting worn out. We were trying everything to get the class to calm down but as many of you know, once one starts, it's down hill from there. 

     The next night seemed to be a level higher than the night before when it came to behavioral episodes for a few of our students. It was then that I began to pray for sanity and patience. At one point, after our game, we had a sit down breathing moment. We had everyone go from our tables one by one and this seemed to work. By Wednesday night, I was feeling so worn out. Two more days, I thought. Then, I realized I never, ever count down to the end of VBS. Something was wrong...but of course, I casually remembered the faces of all the little ones who made it worth it. As much as I and the other members of our triple threat team were feeling worn down by the craziness of our class, I knew that there was God in these hectic moments. 

     Thursday night, I thought it would be a good night. During our songs of praise in the beginning, no one was aggravating another and everyone seemed to line up nicely without having to be asked more than once. This was also the night that I got to the read the story. Sidenote: I absolutely LOVE to read to people. I love reading stories out loud because it just makes me so happy. I also love to do weird voices and stuff so there's that...Anyway, instead of sitting at the table for story time tonight, we had them all sit on the floor around my chair. I asked them all for their eyes. If they weren't paying attention, I simply put my hand on their head. It was like a miracle happened...until the ice cream fiasco. 

      For our activity that night we were making ice cream. You know, ice and salt in a bag with cream, sugar and vanilla in another bag. Shake it up and in five minutes, you should get some ice cream. It was absolutely hilarious to see all our kids shaking and baking their ice cream. They were jumping, laughing, and simply enjoying themselves. We were enjoying watching them enjoy the moment and their eventual ice cream. That was until ice cream suddenly came flying through the air at us. Yes, within seconds we were splattered with some nice sugary ice cream and we weren't exactly happy about it. Of course, this type of outburst required some discipline. So, as you might guess, we needed some isolation from the group. 

      We had two more rotations to go and our dear ice cream flinger was with me for the rest of the night. While the class enjoyed their snack together, we enjoyed snack, just the two of us, at a separate table. What I noticed about this particularly difficult little boy was that when we were one on one, he was well-behaved. He didn't act out because he was getting attention. So, I asked him about his likes and dislikes. He liked reading and drawing comics. For the next half hour, we drew comics. The entire time, I prayed. I prayed to Mary, asking her to help me be a gentle mother to this little boy. I felt a flood of patience come over me and I felt strong enough to deal with this seemingly troubled child of God. Of course, his discipline didn't end there, as we had agreed he wouldn't participate in Music at the end of the night. So, after having a nice chat about how we were going to behave the next night, we sat in the back of the church. After a few moments of not wanting to listen, this little one quickly fell asleep. And I? Well, I continued to pray to Mary. Yes, my friends, I whipped out my Rosary and started praying to Mary in the Methodist church.

     However crazy that may seem, for me, this was normal. Last week, I had been up around school and was out for a run. I didn't have any headphones in or anything, I was simply running and praying. Behind me, at one point, Sister Margaret pulled up and asked me how I was doing. Great, Sister. Then she saw my rosary and let me go on my merry way. Pulling out my Rosary in the most random, peculiar places is something I could probably be known for. So, pulling out my Catholic Rosary in a Methodist church was nothing. Before I left, Miss Carol pulled me aside and mentioned my incredible patience with out little friend. She told me she thought I was much akin to Mother Teresa. Later that night, I posted about praying to Mama Mary as Gentle Mother. When a few of our team commented, I promised to tell the story of Mama Mary and me. 

     On our last night of VBS, I got there a little early to tell the story about Mama Mary. All night while I was praying to Mama Mary for patience and gentleness, the song "Hail Mary, Gentle Woman" was playing in my head. Gentle mother, peaceful dove, teach me wisdom, teach me love. I kept saying it over and over and over. When I laid in bed Thursday night, I realized how great Mama Mary was to me. She had given me the grace to be patient and gentle mother. She had taught me love yet again. As I was telling Miss Carol this, I started to recite the words to the song. Of course, the song begins by chanting the Hail Mary. As I started, Miss Carol finished. I was so confused. It turns out she knew a little bit about Mama Mary already. 

     The thing I love about being with my Methodist family is that we can faith share in incredible capacities. While we may not practice our faiths entirely the same, we can still join together in prayer. We can still talk about Scripture. We can still share things about our faiths...like me sharing about Mama Mary. Working with my Methodist family reminds me of my belief that we can all connect over faith. We can always travel with each other in prayer and that is so important. I love being with them because there are no boundaries to love. Every year, VBS comes at a time when I need it the most. Little did they know, but I needed VBS so much this year. I needed a sense of purpose and it came when I saw the faces of those little children. But more importantly, I needed a chat with Mama Mary. Who would have known that it would be through my Methodist family that I would find a gateway to prayer with Mary, my Mother. Of course, I also really needed a chance to catch up with my dearest Sisters in Spirit and mentors. Shout out to all the lovely people who helped me discover my Catholic faith a little deeper by living out so proudly your Methodist faith. 

Vocations In English Class

"Miss Gutherman, 

do nuns wear pajamas?"

- five of my students in unison

     One of the first things they teach us in those "How to be a Teacher" classes is that you must never let your students know your weaknesses. Okay that might not be entirely true, but there is some truth to it. They tell us to always be a least two steps ahead of your students, to never laugh so as to encourage misbehavior, etc. Of course, showing your class your weaknesses could definitely do you in for some damage. Weaknesses such as: deviation, getting off topic, the top ten pop songs of the day, talking about family, etc. As a student myself, I know how easy it is to want to get a teacher off topic. Get the teacher off topic, waste the rest of the class period. I had always vowed to never let this happen, but it is inevitable. Especially when your students find your weakness...oh and my 8th period found mine already: Nuns.

      It all started after their vocabulary test. I was going over the assignment sheet for the next unit (the Odyssey...YESSSS!) when I decided to jump start on Monday's Poetry Appreciation Jam. We are finishing up the Poetry unit by bringing in our favorite poems or poems we have written. So, not wanting to waste those valuable ten minutes left in class, I pulled up some of my poetry on my Google Docs Drive and gave them the choice to pick one or two. They picked: "Menacing Fall", a poem I had written not too long ago about the perils of walking to work. Of course, even though they didn't even have to work, the just had to listen to me recite poetry, they wanted to get off topic. That's when the questions began: "Miss Gutherman, where do you work? You work with nuns? Is it fun? Do you know all the nuns? Are they nice?" and then all of a sudden, in unison, five of my students ask: "Do nuns wear pajamas?"

     In all the vocation talks or conversations I have given or had with all types of people, without a doubt, that question has come up. Do nuns wear pajamas? Well, yes, in fact, they do. I always laugh when I hear that question and Friday was no exception. When all of my students said that in unison, I legitimately lost all composure. I was fine answering questions until then. I just burst into hysterical laughter and I knew the class was over. I had completely lost them. Or so I thought.

     The truth is, I would do anything to talk about theology, religious life and nuns for an entire class period, but the English curriculum doesn't really lend itself to that. Bummer, right? However, I am always one for embracing the Spirit when it comes. So when the questions came on Friday, I couldn't help but answer them. I wanted them to know all about the Sisters, to know that they are real people, that they are normal. The truth is, I deviated from the lesson plan because it was my Freshmen year that I re-discovered my own vocation. I deviated because I think it's so important that students, especially those who are surrounded by the sisters, know what the life is all about. I deviated because one day, I hope to be that awesome and cool Sister who nerds out over books and poetry and literature and research writing and my students were giving me that hope. 

     When my students decided to deviate from the lesson plan on purpose, little did they know how much of a confirmation they were for me. When people ask me how my student teaching is going, I simply say: "It's so great! I absolutely love it!" There is such truth in that. I love teaching so much. I have always wanted to be a teacher, ever since before I can remember, and I absolutely love it now. I cannot wait to have my own classroom and teach my own lessons and have my own students. I cannot wait to decorate the room, dance around the room teaching and inspire. But even more so, I cannot wait to do all of this and more as a Sister. Just as young girls dream of their ideal wedding, I dream of my ideal classroom where my Husband comes to work with me everyday. 

      I didn't tell my students that I am discerning this vocation and that sooner or later I will most definitely be entering the religious life. I didn't tell my students anymore than that I simply work at the convent. However, I have a feeling that somehow, it will casually slip out. It might come during another Friday afternoon deviation from the lesson, it might come during a lesson, it might come during a conversation with my students after school or before school or at lunch. Or maybe they will just ask because I wear my heart on my sleeve and somehow they will just know. I have a feeling some of them are already catching on.

       The truth is, they didn't ask me, but after school on Friday, when I stopped in to see Sister Margaret Peter to wish her a happy weekend, she did. We are neighbors in the hallway and often we stop for a few minutes just to chat. A few days ago she was subbing for my co-op teacher and we were able to have a longer talk than usual. We briefly talked about life, her vocation story and other things.  I mentioned having my own Christian Prayer Book (the Divine Office book with which the Sisters pray daily) and going to daily Mass. I didn't think anything of it. When I stopped in, my first sentence was: Hey Sister...want to hear a funny story? My students want to know if you wear pajamas. We laughed and suddenly she asked if I was serious about religious life. Confident, I said, "Yes. Have been for quite a few years now. Someday." She smiled as if to say, I knew it. 

        I never expected my students to suddenly bring up the nuns just as I never expect anyone to call me out on my vocation. People look at me and tell me they just know. Maybe with my students, they know but they can't put it into words. However, they did ask me if I had a boyfriend. And I said no. If they ask me, I will be honest, and perhaps it will open their hearts to this life. The truth is, there was no way I could follow all those highly suggested DO NOT DEVIATE lessons I had learned in my "How to be a Teacher" classes because in all honesty, God put it on their hearts somehow and I was there with the answers. Who knows, maybe somehow, they will be inspired and answer the call in their own hearts. They may have found out my weakness, but it is actually a strength. Hey, I love talking about the nuns, but I also love leading little hearts to Jesus. Whoever thought vocations could come up in my English classroom?

And just for kicks...here's the poem that started it all:

Menacing Fall

I put my life on the line every day.

Do they know how dangerous it is to walk to work?

Squirrels and tree limbs

chuck acorns at my head.

and yet,

leaves playfully dance around me,

begging my feet to join the waltz.

the trees,

they laugh at me

hugging my sweater close against the wind.

and in response,

I return the favor,

laughing at the silliness of the leaves,

unsure of what colors they should wear today.

some choose scarlet,

others crimson,

others still fluorescent  oranges and yellows.

and then, the traditionalists refuse to change from Summer Green.

this indecisiveness yields arguments among the masses

ending in few being through from the limbs.

but on the ground, they dance and laugh with me,

mocking the unconventional beauty of a mismatched dress.

I spread my wings, finally letting the wind lead me in the dance; he is quite the gentleman.

and just as I begin to float, a squirrel chucks another acorn at my head.

I put my life on the line every day.

Do they know how dangerous it is to walk to work?

Today I Will: Teach Something!

"Learn something."

- The Blindside

      All my life, all I've ever wanted to do was teach. I would set up all my stuffed animals and teach them whatever I knew at four years old. When I started kindergarten, I would attempt to teach my one year old sister the alphabet and everything I was learning in school from letter sounds to Jesus. As I got older, I was the homework helper. I always learned best in school by teaching other students or working together in pairs. For as long as I could remember, I've wanted to teach and ever so quickly it's becoming a reality. 

     For the past three years, I have spent every single Thursday observing in various schools in various districts with various age groups and grades in various subject matters. I have always loved kids and being in any classroom always excited me. I just wanted to teach them all about the world. Every little school I was in, I was reminded of all the times I spent in my grade school volunteering as a "Lunch Sister" or classroom aide. I loved having the little ones run up to me just to say hi or show me their artwork. But I was dying to get into a high school classroom. And eventually, I got there. I observed students falling asleep in English class. The more I saw, the more I wanted to teach.

     I had been so blessed with so many wonderful teachers in my life and I wanted to pass on the heritage. I had teachers who instilled in me a love for English and Theology (and History and even, Science). I had teachers who made me excited to learn, who made me never want to leave class, who spoke to my heart about life. I wanted to do that. I wanted my students to feel the same as I did in my own classes. 

    I had a taste of that in Peru. I would jump all around the classroom, illustrating their Edgar Allan Poe short stories on the wipe off board and tell them how exciting it was to study the creepiness of the Tell-Tale Heart or the Black Cat. After school, they would gather all around me, fascinated by my accent, by my skin, by my hair but by the end of three and a half weeks, they were gathered around me asking for advice for class, for projects and for friendships. Somewhere along the line, I had made a difference. Somewhere, I had shown my students that they could ask me anything, and I would do my best to answer them. Somewhere along the line, I felt that I was achieving my dream. 

     Flash forward to this past Monday when my dream began to come even closer to coming true. I stepped foot in room 208 and suddenly, I was no longer Becca; I was Miss Gutherman. I was no longer a student at Immaculata but a Student Teacher. Suddenly, I gained over a hundred new cherubs and angels and princesses. Suddenly, I was happier than I had ever been. 

     I had asked for prayers for my first day of Student Teaching on facebook and got well over 100 likes and many more prayers I am sure. I had began my day with Mass at the Motherhouse (6:30 AM...oi) and received many hugs and kisses of good luck from my dear Sisters. Every day since, I've been reporting for duty for Mass and I have been accepted as a regular. Every morning they send me on my way to school like a million moms sending their only daughter to school. And later, when I'm at work, they ask me how my day went. It reminds me of how the mom in the movie Blindside sends her children off to school every day by saying : "Learn Something." However, instead of my Sisters telling me to learn, they tell me to Teach Something. And every day, I walk up to the our classroom thinking about what I will teach my students. 

     Already this week I have introduced Anglo-Saxon Riddles, wrote some myself and had my students, two days later, recite them in front of the class. I couldn't help but smile. We also worked on a research project in the computer lab. The English nerd in me is so excited every day walking into the classroom. Who knows what my co-op teacher is going to through in front of me? Never mind that, all teaching is thinking on your feet. It's been a few days, and this morning I was greeted in the parking lot by two of my students. They smiled, asked about my night and told me they couldn't wait to hand in their riddles. WHAT?! They were excited already?! I felt like dancing. If they were this excited about riddle writing, the rest of the Semester is going to be so easy.

     I love my students. It's been five days and already they so easily bring a smile to my face and laughter to my heart. I'm already planning to attend their sports games/matches and concerts. They usually come into the classroom with smiles so big and they are always full of conversation. Sometimes, I can't help but laugh at them. As many teenage girls are, they can be dramatic, but it doesn't make me love them less. I can't wait until I am their full teacher for a good four - six weeks. Right now, I am just doing various lessons with them. But that's okay. Everyday, I wake up at the crack of dawn excited to teach. 

     Student Teaching, one week in, has already been a beautiful taste of reality that I can't wait to fully grasp. Sometimes I want to throw my hands up in the air and proclaim how much I love teaching. And the more excited I get about teaching, the more respect I seem to get for my profession by those not in the education field. It amazes me how much of a difference a teacher can make. I can honestly say, that while I may have a million other things to do like my own homework, play practice and sleeping, I love teaching more than anything. I get up everyday at 5am for my girls. I drive straight into the sunshine everyday for these students of mine that I already love so much. I will stay up as long as it takes to conjure a lesson that will not only speak to their minds but to their hearts. Everyday, I wake up with this reminder that I have one job to do: teach something, anything, to your students, with love. 

Where In The World Is Your Heart?

"Blessed are the feet of those who carry the good news."

Romans 10:14  

     When I was younger, in computer class, we used to play the online game "Where In The World Is Carmen San Diego?" The main point of the game was to travel to different parts of the world, collecting clues and meeting new people, to find Carmen San Diego! If you found her, you were successful. If not, you kept searching. Yesterday, while I was at work at the Motherhouse (and simply beaming with good news for my sisters), one of the sisters told me she wasn't surprised I was leaving the country again. I am simply traveling the world to find something. I immediately thought: instead of Carmen San Diego, I am searching the world for my heart. 

     As most of you know simply from following my blog, I've been to many, many places around the US and the World. I've traveled to places as close as Philadelphia to as far as Jamaica to do service for God's people. It's always been a deep part of who I am: to simply travel and teach the children of the world. Some people love to travel. Some love to teach. I want to do both with the rest of my life and I knew that from a very young age. I've always had a desire to get up and just go. Take all I need in one back pack, and go, living doing service for the rest of the world. However, since I'm such a busy student, I can only do so much during my Summer. 

     While I was praying sometime back in October, it crossed my heart that I needed to go to New Orleans in January this school year instead of May. I had no idea why, but I felt the need and desire to. So, I put in my application and was the last possible person accepted for the service trip. It was as simple as that. God said go, and He made it possible. I still had no idea why He wanted me to go in January. A few weeks later in November, I heard wind of the annual Peru trip. So, I took interest, talked to Sister Elaine and submitted yet another application. Within two days, I got an email saying, "Thanks for the email, Bec. Start saving." Without wanting to assume, my heart suddenly seemed set on going to Peru. 

       A few days after Thanksgiving break, there was an email in my inbox with the formal heading, invitation and congratulations of being accepted for the Summer 2013 Peru trip. I was in shock. This was the reason God said, "Hey, Bec, go to NOLA in January." He had bigger plans for me for my Summer. I suddenly felt so blessed and knew that God was going to take care of this situation. And once the shock wore off, I knew I had one person (in addition to so many others) I had to tell: Sister Miriam Irene.

       Sister Miriam Irene and I met my Freshmen year during one of the annual Camilla trips and hit it off instantly. Every time we visited she would fill my heart with a passion to go to Peru. Or anywhere, but definitely Peru. The sisters have had missions there for a while and that's the life I've always desired. My heart would always be on fire to do what she did after every visit! And so, when I went to Camilla yesterday, I told her. Her beautiful smile got so big and she simply hugged me saying how excited she was for me! I almost cried...and so did she! Once she knew, I felt I could tell the rest of the sisters. And so, at work last night, I let them all know!

      I waited for Sister Martina to "pop in" and when she did, I told her. Within minutes, most of the Motherhouse knew! Except a few others. When Sister Lorraine, the Mother General came in, I told her to brace herself. She took it so seriously, I was laughing so hard as I tried to tell her I was headed to Peru. She, of course, was so excited! My heart was so on fire for Peru, but in general to continue this dream that God has placed in my heart!

     And so, now, I tell the rest of you the good news! I'm headed to Peru to work with the children! Of course, I need to brush up on my Spanish, but I believe that even if I don't understand the language, I'll be able to understand the hearts of the children and beautiful people of Peru. Just like I understood the Patois of the Jamaican babies. Just like how I understood the heavy Southern Accents of the NOLA people. There's a love and fire in their hearts!!! And I share that love and fire!

     I've grown past the years of  searching for Carmen San Diego, and now I'm searching for my heart. Where does my heart really lay?! I know I have so many stirrings to travel and teach. Maybe I'll never put down permanently, but maybe Peru could be ultimately where my heart is. Regardless, God is sending me there to at least pick up some clues!! 

A Constant Reminder

"A constant reminder of where I can find Her light that might give up the way.

It's all that I'm asking for without Her I'm lost,

my Love don't fade away."

- "Reminder," Mumford and Sons

     I'm a huge Mumford and Sons fan. Their new CD has been on constant reply since it came out on Tuesday. I almost know every word to every song. However, like with most music, I can easily find my new favorite song. This time, it's "Reminder." So often, I've been able to relate so many of their songs to my God and my Faith. This song is no exception. From the moment I heard it, I instantly thought of Mary, JC's Mama. Now that may be because on top of the dome at school, Mary is not only overlooking us all, but she lights up. True story. However, today, as I drove home from visiting my high school, "Reminder" took on a whole new meaning. 

     For the past week, I've been in a stage of avoiding all people, being solitary and quite frankly, downright miserable. We all have our down days, mine just happened to last a week. Life is not always joy and sunshine; sometimes it has to rain. It rained (literally) for me this week. However, there was one thing that kept me hanging on: Wednesday night I was going home. And thank God for Sister Cathy who constantly reminded me of that notion (just another reason why she's wonderful). By Wednesday morning, even my body knew it was time to leave campus and go home; pain was everywhere. And so, by the grace of God and the kindness of friends and professors, I made it home earlier than expected. I needed my Teddy Bear, my bed and my little snuggling sister. And Wednesday night, I got that.

      Now usually on Thursdays, I head out with a group of three other crazy Secondary Education majors (AKA my best friends) and go to observations. Since I was home, I didn't head out with my three best friends, but rather my little sisters. Yes, little Lizzie and I went to Mass after we dropped Mary off at the carpool house! Soon after Mass, Lizzie was walking into school while I was heading to my Alma Mater for surprise observations with one of my closest friends, Sister Mary Anthony. The honest truth is that, I missed first and second period because of heavy city traffic, and she only taught one class since her Sophomores were on retreat. However, that doesn't make the day worse, but better.

      You see, whenever I walk through the front doors, I don't get a visitor pass, but rather, a smile, a hug and a beautiful "welcome home" from my principal and the ladies in the main office. After I arrived, later than expected, I headed toward where "my sister" would be. Instead of finding her, I found another dear sister of mine, Sister Teresa Mary (she's after Teresa of Avila, my main girl). For a half hour, we chatted and caught up, something we rarely get to do when I visit. She's always busy; I'm always busy. But today, God was working in full force with the graces. After our visit, I finally found my sister during the activity period.
      She's a new teacher at my alma mater, but she has taken the place by storm. All the girls love her bustling energy, her creativity and her willingness to go the extra ten miles. As she was conducting her CSC (Community Service Corps) meeting, a plethora of my previous teachers floated in and out of the student dining room, each one surprised to see me but had more than one hug ready for me. There's no other place in the world where it is acceptable to hold a previous student's face, tell her how wonderful she is and then hug her real tight as if it's been years. In no other place could I have possibly bonded with so many of the faculty that I am their family, their youngest grandchild, their favorite niece, their crazy sister, and even their equal. I am seen not as a graduate, but as a member of a family. And the hugs and love I receive each time I walk through the door, reminds me of a huge, Italian family. I love them all.
      The rest of the day held constant surprises for me, but the biggest surprise of all was being able to help out at the Sophomore Retreat. Within seconds of my entering the gym behind all the girls, Sister Michele casually mentioned there was a visitor in the room. Truth is, I looked around, questioning who this visitor might be. Finally, as Sister David started to laugh, I realized this "visitor" was me. However, as I walked down the aisle, with a hundred plus sets of (unknown) eyes watching me, Sister Michele began to explain how I really wasn't a visitor but rather part of the family. She told the girls how we met at my own Sophomore retreat and how much it had changed my life in such a beautiful way. She casually mentioned how she never knows where I am going to turn up next, whether in New Orleans, Jamaica, Chicago, Philadelphia, anywhere and she was just as surprised when she heard I was in the building today. Then, as she often does, asked if I wanted to say anything. Of course I did.
      Somehow, I came out with the most random and God-filled mini speech about being open to God and His Will. I talked about stepping over the line into God's hands and having to take not just one foot, but the other behind it. I had no idea where that came from, however, I felt all those eyes on me and I knew, I just knew God wanted those words to be said. When I finished, Sister David (she was the first sister I ever told about my discernment) said to me, "Sweetheart, you've been open since the day I met you. That was beautiful." I couldn't help be return the wonderful words and tell her how great she is.
      For the rest of the afternoon, I helped my sisters in running the remainder of the retreat and what fun we had. As I interacted with both the students and the faculty, I couldn't help but feel such excitement for teaching in my heart. I was once again reminded about how much I am meant to be a teacher, especially for these high school aged students who really need, as one of the faculty members said to me, "a cool, hip, number one Jesus fan."
     And quite honestly, I need them. They reminded me today of hope, hope for my career, for my life, and for what God is calling me to do, but as a young person and a religious. They reminded me that it's totally ok to have those rotten, miserable days, because there is always going to be someone to hug you and embrace you, whether a friend, family member, sister or Jesus. They reminded me to remain open. And of course the reminded me of the light Nazareth will always be for me. Truly, without Her I would be lost. Oh and ironically enough, Nazareth has a dome that lights up, too!

Las Manos De Monja

"Hold my hand. I promise I'll do all I can. 

Things will get better if you just hold my hand.

Nothing came come between us if you just hold my hand."

- Akon & Michael Jackson, Hold My Hand

Archbishop Chaput with Students of the New Cristo Rey School in Philadelphia.
Disclaimer: Photo is from Chaput's Facebook page.

    It's always been a dream of mine to be fluent in at least one other language aside from English. When I was younger, my idol was Celine Dion and since she was French Canadian, my dream became to learn French. After studying French for four years in high school, I stopped studying it. However, I use my French more now that I'm not studying it, than I did while studying it. Just last night I was having a conversation with one of the Jamaican boys in French. While I love the French language, I realized that it's not very widely spoken here in the United States, and so, when I got to college, I decided to try Spanish. I fell in love with the language. It fell into place with my other dreams of teaching in inner city schools and poverished areas of our country. Did you know that according to the last US Census, 35 million people ages 5 and older spoke Spanish in their homes? That's a pretty huge amount. So, I tweaked my dream of learning a different language; Spanish now, instead of French. Even last year, I toyed around with picking up a minor of Spanish for the Teaching Profession. However, my credits didn't allow room for another minor. But my dream of learning Spanish is still very prominent in my heart. My day at the new Cristo Rey High School in Philadelphia solidified that dream for me.

    It was an experience quite unexpected. I knew nothing about the new opening of Cristo Rey except that it was in the process of being opened. Suddenly, I was asked, along with a few of my peers, to travel to North Philly to sing for the opening Mass. When I first heard the music, I was ecstatic. Not only were we singing a few songs in Spanish, but also Swahili. If you know me, you know me, the thing that most easily warms my heart is African music with drums and the beautiful African voices! As we sang it, I was reminded of Sunday Mass in Jamaica and I almost cried for the beauty of it. The sea of diversity in the congregation between the students, the family, the faculty and those whose passion in life is Cristo Rey was even more beautiful! I was in awe of the whole Mass and could not swipe the smile off my face. It was totally God's Divine Providence that brought me there because during the intercessions (which were spoken in a few different languages), I realized that THIS is the teaching job I had always dreamed of. So, maybe God wants me to head there post graduation. We will see where God points me.

      However, this leads me back to "las manos de monja." The night before Cristo Rey, I got an email from one of the sisters telling me I had the hands of a nun (all because I made her guacamole). I laughed and laughed a much needed laugh. I have the hands of a nun?! I thought. So, in my prayer at Cristo Rey, I reflected on what that really means. I know I want to be what I call "Flufftastic" when I become a sister (which really means being huggable and giving the best hugs). But hands? When I look at my hands now, I see slightly callused hands, bitten down fingernails and cuticles from bad nervous habits, and a ring from my grandma. My hands are tiny hands, just barely bigger than my little sister's hands. And what have my hands done? These hands have built houses, fed children, changed diapers, written letters, made guacamole, blew kisses, colored, done homework, and most importantly, have held other hands. I am a hand holder and a hugger; human touch is important to me. A child knows he or she is loved when a parent gives a hug. A teenager knows he or she is loved when someone holds his or her hand. A husband or wife knows they are loved by the touch of his or her spouse. An elderly knows the love through a hand to hold as well. So many hands my hands have held. But what makes my hands different from anyone else's?

      My hands will teach, not only by the words I will type on the computer, or write on the blackboard (they better still have those when I'm a teacher...not kidding), or the encouragements I write or papers, but by example, too. I know my hands are willing to touch the hands of the stickiest child in the orphanage, or the rough hands of the student touched by violence, or the aged hands of the my elderly sisters, or the hands of those who have suffered greatly. My hands will build not only houses, but homes and love. But most importantly, I want my hands to never grow old, so that I can continue holding the hands of all peoples just like the hands of those who built Cristo Rey. 

      I was so blessed to be touched by those at Cristo Rey and I am so blessed to know that I, too, have that potential. I hope I never lose "mis manos de monja!"