You took me in all green and young and ignorant and eager 40 years ago.
I feel one with you, many and varied, long short, fat thin, silent talkative,
faraway near, prayerful, tired, energetic, always with eyes on the holy goal and wanting to be there.
You led me through times thick and thin:
the all-knowing teens
the wondering twenties
the questioning thirties
the questing forties
the now still wondering and wandering fifties.
You let me go to Pop to help him die.
You sent me to college, courses, talks, workshops, retreats, and challenged me in the mission here, there and yonder.
You taught me how to pray.
I saw, still see, prayer, kindness and the two commandments personified.
Sister Florence was such a practical lady interviewing Angelica, Olivia and me
way back there in Mother Mary John’s niece’s parlor
Miss May O’Sullivan, North Circular Road, Dublin
And let us come to Dunmore.
Sister Mary Lucy took her sickness and death so gracefully.
Mike, Clarencia, Gertrude and others write to me way down here in Huancané.
Mary Pep is still going strong at what, nearly 90?
I learned Spanish before I died.
I’m going to Chapter ’90, first time delegate.
We don’t have to carry broken dishes around anymore or ask for a penance.
We are Sisters of the Word.
We all wash dishes still and like our house clean.
We are good to the poor.
We take care of our “treasurers” at 4707.
Poem taken from “Gleanings: Fragments of Life Experiences”, by Sister M. Rita Prendergast, CCVI.