the community?”
“I am,” Sister Helen replied.
“Then rise, and receive this ring as a token
of your commitment,” he said, sliding a plain silver band onto her
left hand. Sister Helen then moved to Mother Theodora who handed
her a pen with which to sign her vow agreement. The process was
repeated for Sister Stephanie, and then both of them disappeared
into the sacristy where their short white veils were exchanged for
long, black ones. They took their seats in the choir as the
postulants now prostrated themselves on the cool stone floor.
“What do you ask?” Bishop Marcus asked each
in turn. Their reply, “To enter the Novitiate of St. Bridget’s
Abbey and try my vocation here.”
“My heart was pounding so hard,” Mickey
would tell Jamie later, “I didn’t think I was going to be able to
speak. I saw myself lying there, gasping for air like a netted
fish.”
As they rose to go to the sacristy, Mickey
was so light-headed, she thought she might pass out. Inside,
Sisters Teresa and Fiona waited for them. They took off the white
robes, and had their hair cut short. Mickey’s had grown longer over
the past year than it had ever been, but the others all had much
longer hair. They were then all helped to change into the habit
with its full-length robe, then the yoke which hung front to back,
girded with a rope belt through which was hung a wooden rosary. The
white, starched wimple was placed on their heads, framing their
faces with the laces in the back pulled snug. Then the white
novice’s veils were pinned into place.
All of the senior nuns remembered those
milestone moments, and many had happily shared their reminiscences
with the postulants recently. “You should have seen my gown,”
several of the older ones recalled, as before Vatican II, full
wedding gowns were the norm for the Clothing. “We were real brides
of Christ back then,” they said fondly. “Not like now, where there
is no formality and the young ones act as if they are just
‘buddies’ with our Lord,” they added, not so fondly.
Mickey and the others were grateful there
were no longer wedding gowns – “I would have had to wear a tuxedo,”
Mickey joked.
“But nothing we wore before compares to
this,” the older nuns all also said, running their hands
affectionately over the sleeves of their habits. “Just wait. It
will fit,” – “or it won’t,” a few could have said.
Back in the Chapel, the five stood before
Mother Theodora who said to them, “Receive the habit, a symbol of
your commitment to a life of poverty and simplicity, girded with a
rosary so that prayer will be your constant companion. Receive also
your new names in Christ. Jessica Thomas, you will now be known as
Sister Jessica. Tanya Peterson, you will now be known as Sister
Tanya. Abigail Morgan, you will now be known as Sister Abigail.
Wendy Barnes, you will now be known as Sister Wendy. Michele
Stewart, you will now be known as Sister Michele.” As she addressed
them in turn, she laid a hand on each head and blessed them.
Following Mass, the nuns formed a line in
the corridor connecting the Chapel to the cloister so that the two
newly professed nuns and five new novices could be welcomed by each
member of the community. Most offered small whispers of
encouragement along with an embrace. When Mickey got to Sister
Anselma, there were no words, but an especially tight embrace and
one of Sister Anselma’s rare smiles.
Last in line was Mother Theodora. When
Mickey was standing in front of her, she held Mickey at arms’
length, looking at her for several seconds before embracing her.
“It suits you,” she said approvingly.
“Wow,” said Jamie a little while later,
fingering the sleeve of Mickey’s habit. The community and visiting
family members of the seven women celebrating the day – “nope, not
seven families, only six,” Mickey muttered to Jamie when she
noticed Wendy again had no family present – had gathered in the
refectory for a small
“I am,” Sister Helen replied.
“Then rise, and receive this ring as a token
of your commitment,” he said, sliding a plain silver band onto her
left hand. Sister Helen then moved to Mother Theodora who handed
her a pen with which to sign her vow agreement. The process was
repeated for Sister Stephanie, and then both of them disappeared
into the sacristy where their short white veils were exchanged for
long, black ones. They took their seats in the choir as the
postulants now prostrated themselves on the cool stone floor.
“What do you ask?” Bishop Marcus asked each
in turn. Their reply, “To enter the Novitiate of St. Bridget’s
Abbey and try my vocation here.”
“My heart was pounding so hard,” Mickey
would tell Jamie later, “I didn’t think I was going to be able to
speak. I saw myself lying there, gasping for air like a netted
fish.”
As they rose to go to the sacristy, Mickey
was so light-headed, she thought she might pass out. Inside,
Sisters Teresa and Fiona waited for them. They took off the white
robes, and had their hair cut short. Mickey’s had grown longer over
the past year than it had ever been, but the others all had much
longer hair. They were then all helped to change into the habit
with its full-length robe, then the yoke which hung front to back,
girded with a rope belt through which was hung a wooden rosary. The
white, starched wimple was placed on their heads, framing their
faces with the laces in the back pulled snug. Then the white
novice’s veils were pinned into place.
All of the senior nuns remembered those
milestone moments, and many had happily shared their reminiscences
with the postulants recently. “You should have seen my gown,”
several of the older ones recalled, as before Vatican II, full
wedding gowns were the norm for the Clothing. “We were real brides
of Christ back then,” they said fondly. “Not like now, where there
is no formality and the young ones act as if they are just
‘buddies’ with our Lord,” they added, not so fondly.
Mickey and the others were grateful there
were no longer wedding gowns – “I would have had to wear a tuxedo,”
Mickey joked.
“But nothing we wore before compares to
this,” the older nuns all also said, running their hands
affectionately over the sleeves of their habits. “Just wait. It
will fit,” – “or it won’t,” a few could have said.
Back in the Chapel, the five stood before
Mother Theodora who said to them, “Receive the habit, a symbol of
your commitment to a life of poverty and simplicity, girded with a
rosary so that prayer will be your constant companion. Receive also
your new names in Christ. Jessica Thomas, you will now be known as
Sister Jessica. Tanya Peterson, you will now be known as Sister
Tanya. Abigail Morgan, you will now be known as Sister Abigail.
Wendy Barnes, you will now be known as Sister Wendy. Michele
Stewart, you will now be known as Sister Michele.” As she addressed
them in turn, she laid a hand on each head and blessed them.
Following Mass, the nuns formed a line in
the corridor connecting the Chapel to the cloister so that the two
newly professed nuns and five new novices could be welcomed by each
member of the community. Most offered small whispers of
encouragement along with an embrace. When Mickey got to Sister
Anselma, there were no words, but an especially tight embrace and
one of Sister Anselma’s rare smiles.
Last in line was Mother Theodora. When
Mickey was standing in front of her, she held Mickey at arms’
length, looking at her for several seconds before embracing her.
“It suits you,” she said approvingly.
“Wow,” said Jamie a little while later,
fingering the sleeve of Mickey’s habit. The community and visiting
family members of the seven women celebrating the day – “nope, not
seven families, only six,” Mickey muttered to Jamie when she
noticed Wendy again had no family present – had gathered in the
refectory for a small
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