My Vocational Story by Sr. Mary Gabrielle Thomas in Thanksgiving for a Wondrous Gift

 

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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