Changing Habits by Debbie Macomber

it scandalous to think of such secular instruments in a church—but then again, perhaps it wasn’t. After all, Christians were exhorted to “make a joyful noise unto the Lord.” What was more joyful than the sound of guitars and banjos and flutes? The more she thought about it, the more she liked theidea. Perhaps in time, this kind of worship could be introduced into the convent’s celebration.
    Within a few weeks of saying her final vows, Kathleen learned that some religious orders had decided to discard the tradition of wearing habits, substituting secular attire.
    To Kathleen, it seemed unbelievable that any woman who’d struggled to separate herself from the world would willingly wish to become part of it again.
    â€œI know you’ve heard rumors of changes in our traditional habit,” Sister Clare Marie announced one afternoon. “After a recent discussion with Mother Superior, I can tell you that St. Bridget’s Sisters of the Assumption will not be making any such changes for the time being.”
    Kathleen was glad to hear it. She’d worked very hard for the privilege of wearing a habit and she didn’t want to see it eliminated.
    â€œMother Superior feels that Pope John’s intention was to open the windows of the Church and let in a breath of fresh air. He anticipated a soft breeze, not a tornado.”
    Again Kathleen was in full agreement.
    â€œWe are a large order, one of the most populous in the United States. We welcome small changes, but anything this substantial will develop slowly for us. We have dressed in this same habit since 1840 and we are unwilling to let go of what is most familiar.”
    Several heads nodded.
    â€œHowever,” Sister said, “one change that might enhance our order has come to the attention of Mother Superior.” She smiled as though this was a matter close to her own heart. “Instead of taking a saint’s name at the time you say your vows, you may retain your own name if you wish.”
    That meant Kathleen could be referred to as Sister Kathleen instead of Sister Lydia, the name she had chosen as the first of her three alternatives.
    â€œThink it over carefully and decide within the next week.”
    As Kathleen deliberated on all the changes, she began to feel a sense of excitement. For three years she had struggled in vain to let go of her earthly family in order to be part of God’s. Now she was given the chance to be part of both.
    The first person she would tell was Sean. Of all her family, she knew her oldest brother would definitely approve. She wrote him a lengthy letter and, as she’d expected, his response was gratifying.
    On August 14, 1966, a Sunday afternoon, Kathleen O’Shaughnessy said her vows. Her parents, four of her five sisters and her youngest brother were in attendance. They watched as the bridal veil was replaced with the full veil of a professed sister.
    â€œDo you know where you’re going to be assigned?” her mother asked anxiously. Kathleen knew her family prayed it would be nearby so they could visit on a regular basis.
    â€œI won’t find that out until later.” Kathleen was as curious as her family. She’d waited three long years for this moment. She’d entered the convent as one of thirty postulants, but over time eleven had chosen to leave. Their vocations hadn’t been strong enough to hold them.
    A week later, Kathleen learned that she was being sent to attend education classes at the University of Minneapolis. The following September she’d be teaching first grade at St. Peter’s School.
    Of the nineteen new sisters, she was the only one assigned to the convent in Minneapolis.

6
    JOANNA BAIRD
1967 to 1972
    â€œJ oanna,” her mother said, twisting around from the front seat of the 1965 Ford Fairlane to look her full in the face. “Are you positive that life in a convent is what you want?”
    â€œMom, please!