Having received my entire scholastic education at a catholic convent school, I sometimes find myself reminiscing about the Sisters of the Apostolic Carmel in their black and white attire, who were, no doubt, charming creatures of habit. I remember being curious and totally fascinated by the chapel in the grotto, where I would sneak in, dip my fingers into the cool holy water, and hastily make the sign of the Cross.
But it was Audrey Hepburn as Sister Luke in The Nun’s Story that was the clincher: I was convinced I had found my calling—I am not Catholic, but it is strange how deep my belief was, that I would make a good nun. Perhaps because I admired the patience, the love, the courage Sister Luke demonstrated, and of course, how terribly, terribly, romantic her sacrifice.
Then there was Maria in the Sound of Music and ultimately, Mother Teresa. I sat at her feet at a gathering when she visited my hometown. I felt so blessed, and still do, even to this day, as I watched the glow on her weatherbeaten face and listened to her soft whisper about giving what you can afford to give, but giving till it hurts for it to mean something—for it to have some meaning.
In the last few years before I came to US, I became close friends with an American Nun from the Sisters of Mercy, who worked as an anesthetist at the Mercy Hospital. She later left the order and married another good friend of mine. They now live in South Carolina.
Recently, I enjoyed reading Mark Salzman’s Lying Awake about a nun who receives mystical visions and is subsequently mystified by its revelation.
It’s no wonder I chose to don the persona of a nun in the following poems.
THE NUN’S STORY
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace…
as I commit myself in your service.
Like a lamb I will follow
the sacred path chosen
for me. I seek no diversion.
Like a river flowing upstream,
I will resist the downward flow,
and accept each stone I stumble on
as my challenge,
my opportunity to acknowledge
and embrace
the knots in the chain of my life,
a bump, another bead in my rosary,
another prayer that brings me closer
to you.
NO FLYING NUN
Where there is hatred, let me sow love…
I am no angel
no Clark Kent-turned-Superman.
No flying nun
ready to rescue,
or save a universe, or
perform miracles.
I am here to continue
my struggle to overcome pain,
find peace, and carry the load
bestowed on me
here on earth. I will remain
to love and serve
I will persevere and plod on
as is my destiny.
LOSING THE HABIT
Where there is despair, hope…
I embrace my task
count my blessings
here at the maternity ward where
young unwed mothers,
fallen prey to broken promises
unwitting commitments
bear the fruit of their labor.
A new life awaits,
a new sun on their horizon.
I don the scrubs, my new vestments—
the glove, white coat
like the vestal virgin—
I breathe into the mask
as life breathes within the new born
as it enters the light.
A safe delivery
of a whole new life,
without the gifts of the Magi.
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