Journey of the Foundresses

The next morning we woke up to a loud, very loud, clanging, rumbling, and thud, thud of bell ropes, etc. impressing one with a sense of urgency!  It could not help but remind us of M. Berchman’s description of the bells upon her arrival in Japan.  We went down to Mass and Communion, said by our chaplain, Fr. Anselm, taking deep draughts of that new “life” which the Mass so plentifully pours out.  We were much more relaxed this morning, a lovely, sunny morning too, and we went peacefully, (sounds as if we were repentant convicts), to a rather plentiful mixt served by a—yes, a bearded lay brother, Br. Ignatius, who stayed with us for the next six weeks as cook—a little fellow, black beard and black eyes, but a good cook!  Several lay brothers were interspersed among the Sisters, with the two Abbots at the top table.  We didn’t know if we were monks or nuns!  The union of hearts in the “family” was thus shown strongly, when we all ate together at the first time with practically the same “gestures.”

We were dispensed for the next few days from the Canonical Office.  And every morning we rose about a half-hour earlier, until at the end of the week we were rising at 2:00, a red-letter day!

Of course, the monks were very much in evidence, and were only waiting out of common politeness to descend on us after mixt.  They proudly showed us our new house, from the “modern” kitchen, the blue and yellow novitiate, to the cool, dark green dormitory with its sinks in each cell.  More and more we were impressed by their very enthusiastic joy at being able to “present” us with our beautiful new home and ever more impressed by the amount of work they must have put into it—and were still putting—a real labor of love.  I think we must have been a rather odd sight.  All the professed had found their cowls successfully, and the novices their cloaks, plus a few wrinkles, but several white veils must have remained on the Britannic, as we thought, to go back to Ireland, for they couldn’t be found anywhere.  So here were two or three novices wearing black veils and white cloaks.  A new Order!  Even more odd-looking than the novices at None in Glencairn on September 23rd!

It was Rosary Sunday today.  A beautiful, warm sunny day, and we went out with our two chaplains, Fr. Anselm and Fr. Francis, faithful Fr. Paul, and Dom Celsus, who didn’t think he should leave us on our own so soon.  We first went to the famous barn, of course, and the “young fry” climbed the still more famous stairs to the top of the tower.  We also wandered over to the property across the road, which is our apple orchard, a very large one.  It kept us in work over a month.

So it was thus that we spent our first days, allowing ourselves to be literally, guests of the monks.  We got acquainted with the property, the barn, the cows, the pigs, the donkey.  We marked out the church space (with our fingers), and also the graveyard, which might have seemed a little previous, since no one had done anything more strenuous yet than wash dishes.

Our work in the orchard took on the daily routine of “work strike” material.  One of the Brothers came for us every morning and afternoon with the dark green milk truck (really a converted ambulance) and drove us directly to our tree!  This was outside the enclosure of course, but we were so old hands at this sort of thing, that driving to work, along a piece of public highway didn’t phase us a bit!

The weather remained beautifully balmy until one cold, dark day came, the same day that Dom Celsus left for Ireland, taking our rather futile messages which, after all, can convey so little when so much is already understood.  We were left feeling somewhat forlorn, until we remembered that He Who brought us here, wished us to stay here, and then everything was alright, and the sun shone again the next day with more apples to be picked.

To be continued...