Interversity.Org

Just got a notice for a Retreat held by those of us in the MidWest Province who are part of the FDCs--Former Daughters of Charity.  There's less of us in the group than when we started in 1987.  Just 99 of us now.  Once we were 250 strong.  But, we each go our way over time.  Yet, we never forget.  I remember that first reunion.  Geez, there must have been 300, maybe 500 of us come home.  Back to the MotherHouse, back to the Marillac, back to our training grounds.  Each of us had spent 5 years there and we were tight as ticks with each other.  I left in '72, and it could as well have been yesterday.  Oh, sure we were older, some married, some married with kids, some single, one of us is a DA in Dallas...and on and on it went.  Time had not killed the comraderie we had. Bruce and I went together back there, and, I remember walking in the 'lower refectory' --that's a cafeteria to the rest of the world--I heard it, I really heard it.  "Alm's back--hey look, Alma's back"--was I that significent back then?  Bruce said to me: "Who were you?"  I could only answer, 'I have no idea'.  Sure I wrote plays, and poems, and drew pictures back then, but so what?  It was what I could do to break out of the mold.  It was ALL I could do.  Poetry used to flow like a river out of me, all the time, and yes, it amazed me.  I wasn't like that in High School, or at home, home with parents and stuff.  But here, here, I was a package unwrapping myself.  Why here?  I have no clue.  If ever a place was a lockstep regieme, this was it.  Only, I wasn't in step.  I know I cried a lot at night. I rose at 5am, went to prayers till  6:45, went to breakfast, ate  cornflakes, orange, homemade bread--God! that was so good--drank coffee.  Washed dishes at table--made a few faces at people while  waiting for the  'knock-k nock'  that said we could rise and leave.  Oh, no talking at all till we got outside.  Went to classes,, till 11:30, went to prayers till noon, went to lunch, ate in silence, listened to someone read, and that ended with the Roman Martyrology--now, that's a classic blood and guts piece.  Knock-knock.  Time to leave for study.  Studied till 1:30.  Went to the alleged recreation where we walked and talked-  That was soooooooooo boring.  So I found a creek somewhere on that 200 acre parcel and there were ropes hanging from trees.  So began the practice of what we called 'vining' which was really just grabbing that rope and swinging over the creek. Sister John Michael who is now just ol' Pat and she lives in Sebastopol, CA, remembered that at the reunion.  30 years ago and she remembered.  You just don't forget some stuff. Back to the schedule, just to show you that when you are trained, you are trained forever.  At 2:00, we had, what else, 2 oclock reading.  I got to be late to that a lot, so did a bunch of my other 'vining' buddies.  Sister Lelia, the head of this Juniorate, finally gave out the saying: 'IF THE DOORS ARE CLOSED, SISTERS, DON'T COME IN'.  Big loss, I thought.  So, we'd stand there until 3 p.m. when she'd open the doors and sail by us, like a ship on the high seas.  We were supposed to sew while we listened to Sister Lelia talk, btw. Today, my husband wonders, why do I have to be always doing something with my hands, while watching TV.   Early training.  You never forget it.  You are trained forever. Well, I ran out of sewing--you can just darn so many socks or make hems on tablecloths.  So,  I started drawing and writing in my notebook while Sister Lelia talked...and talked...and talked some more.  45 solid minutes of it.  At 3 pm, we said, what else, the 3 oclock prayer.  Then back to the dorms, and later, our rooms, to get books, and off to class, till 5 p.m.   We had teachers, who were Sisters or priests with Ph.D.s from all over the U.S.--not in our Community.  That was our diversity training.  After 5, books back, and off to the chapel for 5:30 prayers and Meditation.  6 oclock supper.  6:30 to 8 study time in library--we had a huge library with over 220,000 books in it. (Why do I remember  the books--who knows.)  8 to 8:30, alleged recreation.  8:30, night prayers, and bed.  9:00 bed and GREAT SILENCE--don't talk till after Breakfast. That was from 1957 til 1962 when I graduated from college, and I remember it.  That's why I say: SOLDIERS AND SISTERS, ARE ALIKE.  WE NEVER FORGET THE WAY IT WAS, THE STUFF WE SAW AND DID, AND ALL THAT WENT ON.  For me, it was sorta boring, but different, but fun to talk about now.  For the Soldier who comes home, it has got to be a continuing nightmare.