I
believe that God and His grace, has his hand on each
person, and especially on those who do His Will
according to their special vocaton.
My
story was a search for faith which was rewarded in my
case with a religious vocation. I did not deserve
it, but I feel it was a gift from the loving heart of
Jesus.
My
mother is Catholic and my Father is Episcopalian.
They were married in the Catholic church in 1938.
So they will be married 70 years in 2008. My
parents are people of charity and goodness.
Because
of W. W. II - my mother was alone, my father away at
war - I was not baptized until I was almost 2 years
old. Happily I was baptized on the feast of St.
Theresa of Avila. Since I ended up in a cloister,
I think this day was a signal grace and blessing for
me. My mother did not know any Catholic men, whom
she could ask to be my godfather. So I did not
have a godfather. All the men were away fighting
W. W. II.
My
Catholic grandmother, my beloved "Nana" had a
tremendous religious influence in my life. Though
I did not go to Mass usually, I always went to Mass with
her when she came to visit. I watched her pray, go
to confession, and sat quietly while she said her
rosary. Grace was working in my life.
All
innocent children have an inner desire for God. I
was no exception. My cousins attended Catholic
schools. I would study their religious books, when
I visited my cousins. I taught myself the act of
contrition, which I said often.
When
I was a junior in high-school, religious wise,
everything came to a head. One day a class-mate
friend of mine who was from Russia, told me she was
going to run away and get married. My friend was
also a junior in high-school. My alarm bells went
off! I told her she could not run off because she
was Catholic. Grace struck me in the face. I
was "preaching" to my friend, and I had not
even made my first Holy Communion. When the last
school bell rang for the day, I went to a telephone and
called my mother. I told her that I was going to
find a Catholic Church and I would be late coming home.
I
walked for about 2 miles until I came to Holy Angels
Catholic Church in Portsmouth,VA. On the way to
the church I kept praying "Angel of God, my
guardian dear", I could not remember the rest of
the prayer. It was cool, and the leaves were
falling from the trees. I heard the crunch of
leaves under my foot-steps. I was nervous and even
a bit afraid at the thought of talking to a
priest. But a priest I needed, and a priest I had
to have.
I
came to the rectory of Holy Angels Catholic Church. I
knocked on the door. Just as I turned away to
leave - my back was at the door - the door opened.
There stood Father Peter Vanganswinkle. A priest,
I learned later, who was from the Netherlands.
In
my nervousness, I said to Father, I want to make my
first Holy Communion. Father invited me into his
office, and I sat down. Father told me that I
would have to be baptized first. I told Father
that my mother had told me I had been baptized.
Father said that was fine, but I needed a baptismal
certificate.
This
was the beginning of my quest for God. I went to
Holy Angels two times a week, to prepare myself for my
first Holy Communion. I was to make my first Holy
Communion on Christmas Day.
All
went well, until one afternoon, my father, who was a
Chief Warrant Officer in the U.S. Navy came home and
said we had to leave Portsmouth, because we were in a
danger zone. The Cuban Crisis was in full
swing. On Oct. 28th, 1962, I sadly informed Father
Peter Vanganswinkle that I was leaving Portsmouth in 3
days and that I would not be making my first Holy
Communion. Father said, "Yes you are.
You are ready." On Oct. 30th, after school
let out, I went to Holy Angels. Father baptized me
conditionally and heard my confession. It was one
of the most peaceful and beautiful experiences of my
life. Early next morning Father came to our house
to take me to Holy Angels Catholic Church for
Mass. Between two Daughters of Wisdom I received
my First Holy Communion. That very day my
Baptismal Certificate came from California.
I
remember my first Holy day of Obligation, which was All
Saints' Day, as a practicing Catholic. I went to an
evening Mass and in there was a gold-fish swimming in
the holy water.
I
was 18 years old when I made my First Holy
Communion. I was 19 when I was Confirmed. I
was six months and three days short of my 21st birthday,
when I entered the Visitation.
On
Christmas Eve, when I was 19 years old, I told my
mother that I wanted to be a nun. She didn't say
anything for a few minutes. It was one of those
unforgettable moments in our lives that remain in our
memories forever. My mother told me she was
waiting for me to tell her because she knew it was
coming, my desire to enter religious life.
One
of the beautiful memories I have of my mother was when
she would say her rosary in the back row of the
church when I would go to confession, and she waited for
me to finish. My mother faithfully drove me to
Mass on Sunday. Once she almost got a ticket
speeding, getting me to Mass on time. When you
think you have a vocation to the religious life, you
need to have guidance, faith and a lot of praying.
A vocation is something hard to describe because it is
so interior and personal. It is a desire, a
force so strong that it is a part of you. You know
what you are doing is right and true. Your very
being desires to belong totally and forever to Jesus.
When
I came to the Visitation, I knew immediately that I had
found the place where God wanted me to be. to serve Him,
love Him, adore Him for the rest of my life. I had
peace. The testing time known as the Novitiate
proved all this to be true.
I
entered Visitation Monastery on July 16, 1964.
Eight days later I became a Postulant.
I
had had the grace in 1963 to be told by a wonderful
religious, by the name of Mother De Chantal, that she
believed I had a vocation to the cloister. On my
knees I asked that God would guide me. I prayed to
the Little Flower, St. Therese and the Sacred Heart of
Jesus to show me the one place that I could love God
alone. The fact is that I entered the Visitation
that our foundress is St. Jane France De Chantal, and
that my
mentor, who's name was Mother De Chantal told me I had a
vocation to the cloister. I felt my prayers had
been answered.
I
felt the beautiful, gentle, peaceful spirit of the
Sisters of the Visitation. I saw the faithful
beauty of the way they live their lives, I saw their
humanness, their ability to laugh, and their
tears. Women who know about life, and are capable
of love, caring and compassion for all who knock on
their cloister door or call on the telephone. Our
Sisters are so often the last to know, if ever, the good
that comes from their prayers. They continue to
pray anyway. They will know the good they have
done only when they behold the Beatific Vision of God.
Religious
life can be hard sometimes, because of people living
together. There are the misunderstandings for
example. But the beauty of the religious life is
that we are always making new beginnings and we each
have a forgiving, and above all, an understanding
heart. We try not to let the sun go down on our
anger, if we have any.
It
is very important that we keep the Spirit of the
Visitation Order. This is one of the beauties of
the Visitation. It is a grave mistake for
newcomers to the order, to try to change the Sisters or
the ways of the Order. The Visitation Order has
had success and Saints since 1610.
To
live the Visitation way of life you must be able to be
alone a good part of your day. I say alone in the
sense, that your thoughts, heart, and actions are
centered on the One you love, that is Jesus, your Lord
and King.
Your
day will be very structured - that is, so much time for
each thing you do. A bell rings, and you move to
the next event of the day. Living faithfully will
make a Saint out of you. Each happening, even the
interruptions of a normal day are really the Will of God
for us, and accepted as such. Our life is wrapped
in an atmosphere of silence. Silence, so we can
hear the soft whisper of God. He comes in prayer,
people and happenings.
People
sometimes ask the nuns, what they do all day. I
can say that - by our lives, our sacrifices, our moments
of loneliness, our joys and our tears for others - we
support the Church.
I
have seen the crippled hands of a 90 year nun, her days
of hard work over, faithfully saying her rosary for
souls - so many, many Hail Mary's for so many souls.
I
made my final Profession on June 11, 1972. This
was a special day and the happiest day of my life.
I had prayed for the return to the sacraments for my
mother who had been away from the sacraments for 30
years. A priest had yelled at her - maybe this is
why I, too, was afraid of a priest. On my
Profession day, she and I received Holy Communion
together, for the first time in our lives.
I
have been professed for 40 years. I love my
vocation and I love my community. I guess I can
say I have "Blossomed where I was planted", in
the heart of my beloved Visitation Order.
God
chooses whomever he wants to be His Brides. If you
want to become a nun, don't let anyone discourage you
from trying. By trying to see if you are destined
to be a nun, you will know God's will and you will have
peace. Come and see our life for yourself.
It is a wonderful life.
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