Changing Habits by Debbie Macomber Page A

I’ve already said it is. I feel God is calling me.” She stared out the window, at the softly falling snow.
    â€œSandra, for the love of heaven, will you leave the girl alone?”
    â€œMark, don’t you see what’s happening?” her mother cried. “How can you simply drive our daughter to a convent like this? She’s overreacting to what Greg did. Can’t you see what a terrible mistake she’s making?”
    Joanna wanted to clap her hands over her ears to block out the angry exchange between her parents. Her mother had been dead set against Joanna’s entering the convent from the moment she’d mentioned it six months earlier. Her father, on the other hand, was all for it. His own cousin was a Dominican nun and he’d felt strongly that this was the right decision for Joanna. As her parents, he’d argued, it was their duty to stand by her and support her in whatever she wanted for her own future.
    â€œShe’s doing this on the rebound,” Sandra Baird insisted.
    â€œI’m over Greg,” Joanna said from the back seat. She rarely thought about Greg or the broken engagement anymore. He was part of her past. God was her future. Greg’s wife had given birth to a robust and healthy daughter they’d named Lily. To prove there were no hard feelings, Joanna had mailed Greg and Xuan a congratulatory letter, in which she told them of her decision to enter the convent.
    â€œJoanna is old enough to know what she wants,” her father continued. “You didn’t question her decision to enter nursing school, did you? Now she wants to dedicate her life to God. Why are you against that?”
    Her mother crossed her arms. “Why?” she cried sarcastically. “Because in my heart I know the convent isn’t the place for our daughter, despite what you think.”
    â€œIf you’re right,” Joanna said, struggling to remain calm, “I won’t stay. Please, Mom,” she begged, “try to be happy for me.”
    â€œI am, honey,” her father said, taking his eyes off the Boston traffic just long enough to send her an encouraging smile. “Your mother and I approve of whatever endeavor in life you choose.”
    Her mother glanced over her shoulder and pleaded with Joanna one final time. “I’d be happy if I truly believed you belonged in the convent. Just promise me that if you ever decide you want out, you won’t be too proud to leave.”
    â€œI promise.” Joanna hated to be the cause of this struggle between her mother and father. Even today, when they were delivering her to the motherhouse, her parents continued to argue as if it were their decision instead of Joanna’s.
    Once they arrived at the convent, Joanna felt reassured. The quiet, serene atmosphere brought her a sense of peace and renewed her purpose. When it was time to leave, Sandra hugged Joanna tightly. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she released her, then hurriedly turned away.
    â€œI couldn’t be more proud of you,” her father said, as he handed her over to Sister Mary Louise, the Postulant Mistress.
    Joanna didn’t see her parents leave. Without another word, Sister Mary Louise directed her to the dormitory and assigned her a cell. The room was stark compared to Joanna’s bedroom at home. There she had a canopy bed and a hi-fi set with stacks of albums. But she’d walked away from that life and was eager to embrace another.
    â€œYou’ll need to change out of your clothes and into these,” Sister instructed, giving her the simple garb of a postulant.
    â€œAre there any others entering this month?” Joanna asked. It was mid-January, and the majority of women seeking the religious life came in September.
    â€œJust three. You’re the last to arrive. Now I’ll let you change into your new clothes,” Sister Mary Louise said.
    Unexpected emotion swept through Joanna as she stripped