Interversity.Org

The shock of re-entry came because of the way my Community had operated throughout time up and even through the mid-sixties, and Vatican II, when we were supposed to change. WE WERE THE LIVING 17TH CENTURY, in France, but here we were in America. It was like having a script, and playing a role that echoed the 17th century as you walked within the 20th century.

First, we dressed funny. So much clothing covering us. The first stage wasn't too bad. It was called: POSTULATUM, a nice Latin word. It meant we were trying out for this group. Our head-Mistress was Sister Margaret, whose voice squeaked and whistled when she talked. She must have been up near 80 back then, and everyday, I prayed for her to die. (God forgive me now, but I did that then.)

The first weird thing was: she read our incoming and outgoing mail. That was my first point of horror. I went to her and said that was against the Law, to break into others' mail and read it. She didn't like me either, btw, and said: 'we've always done it this way'. "Done what? asked I. "Learned all about our Postulants to see if they are worthy to go to 'Seminary'--which is what this Order called the Noviciate of young Sisters.

Then, she said to me, "I bet you didn't even bring a return ticket home, did you."
My reply was, "That's because I am not going home." We parted and she forever kept one eyebrow raised at me.

All summer we lived and played and prayed and ate and slept at this place we called 'the Marillac' which at that time was over 200 acres, entering at Normandy Blvd, 7800 Normandy Blvd, btw, and had a mental hospital at the exit road, called 'St. Vincents Hospital.' Trees, and streams, and rolling hills, and an old Sisters Cemetary covered the 'inbetween', as far as I knew. I could see new construction going up as we girls were entering by quite a large number each time--there were 25 in my group, or 'band' as we called ourselves. In August, another 15 girls entered. In September, another 27 or 30 girls entered. A new building to house young Sisters called the Juniorate was being built. A library with over 220,000 books in it to start was being built.

POSTULATUM was pretty normal except for getting up at 5 each morning when my eyes were still welded shut. I will never forget that sensation of being unable to open my eyes on that first morning. Yet I had gone to bed at regulation time: 9 p.m. The GREAT SILENCE prevailed which was a new concept I now learned: don't talk until after Mass and breakfast. So how do I unweld my eyes, I wondered. I walked like this blindwoman that first day, hanging on to my 'big sister' that had been appointed to us. (She was forever leaving holy cards under or on my pillow. But I was 17. I was beyond the holy card stage. Those were rewards the nuns gave us in 3rd grade.) So, add this to the mail opening syndrome that prevailed, and these were the only two oddities, for those first 6 months, well, and the black skirt, blouse, and doily with tails (they called 'a Dignity) to wear.

There were schedules to follow and times for this and that, and silences to be kept, and lectures to be listened to. I was used to that; I had graduated from a Catholic girls' school. The whistly squeaky voice of Sister Margaret was the only unnerving part.

Great events: once I got hit with a baseball I tried to catch; and once I batted a ball high and it landed right into Sister Margaret's hat or 'cornette' as we called them. I got a black eye. Sister Margaret was just a bit surer of whom she had to deal with.

On January 15, 1958, I entered Seminary. I entered the 17th century. I entered yesterday. And I was allowed to talk for only two separate half-hours each day. This was called: recreation. I was to be meditating on who and what I was for the rest of the time, while I cleaned or ate or listened to readings given.

I got to wear a chimese, a corset that I could lace up (or down, whatever), a skirt of blue, some extra, but separate pockets that we strapped on like holsters of the old west, and these pockets reached to our knees. These were called 'First Articles'. Then we had a Black dress we put on over all this, plus a 'fishu' we had folded specially for it, and a cap for our heads, then a coif with long starched sides added. When we went into a church we wore a black 'capot' that we could only put on in one special room called 'The Seminary Room'.

You really need a picture to see all this.
I was cute, I think. But who knew? No mirrors allowed.