Fact and Fantasy
The year is 1450. A small acorn that has found a place to nestle in the soft earth begins to disintegrate. It sends out small “feelers” that become tender roots. The sun beats down life-giving rays and soon above ground the beginnings of a young tree can be seen. It is a California Oak.
The year is 1650. A small group of Muwekma Ohlone Indians, coming from the coast on their way north stop at a hilly site; the temperature is mild and although there are winter rains, they find this a place that is conducive to a peace-filled life. They settle in. The women do their cooking in the shade of a lovely, tall and sturdy tree. Young children swing on welcoming tree branches. It is our California Oak.
The year is 1801 and it is the year of the great wind. There is disaster everywhere. What had been rather sturdy dwellings, shelters for those who had made home here, are blown away. Trees are uprooted and thrown down with an impact that echoes for miles around. One noble tree refuses the violence of the winds and remains solidly in place until the final gust that sends it toppling over on its side. It remains there, apparently uprooted and dead but no, there is life there. It remains undaunted and even in its prone condition, continues to grow. It is our California Oak.
1912. The 39 acres are a flurry of activity. The ground is being prepared for building. This is choice land, a part of a larger area given by William Ralston to his friend, Ansel Burlingame, Ambassador to China. A young man named Frederick Kohl and his bride, Bess superintend the building of their mansion. It is to be a show-place on the Peninsula – a place of lively entertainment. A stately fallen Oak looks on silently from down the hill.
1924. Visitation-cloaked women make their way down the Peninsula to look at a property for their Motherhouse. They have been shown another possible site this very day at a fog-laden area near Lake Merced. Intuition, inspiration, good sense led them further to discover a green, oak-studded land, made sweet by the sight of daffodils and the scent of lavender. They see a stately mansion sitting amid rolling hills, a mansion complete with green house and carriage house. It looks too grand for a motherhouse but the price is right: $235,000. They stay. A stately fallen Oak wonders what will happen now.
1931. The humans are moving closer. In fact, too close for comfort for our Oak. They have outgrown the mansion and chosen a site “down the hill.” Young teenage school girls bring noisy life to the mansion as it is converted into a high school for girls. A large, structure is completed “down the hill,” a structure capable of accommodating over 100 women. The building is dedicated and occupied.
1950. The women have grown yet larger in numbers. The land is dotted with white and black veiled women, women who move in a stately manner, arms concealed in flowing black sleeves.
1964. Another building dedicated! They have outgrown what they call, “Motherhouse.” And so they add a large wing with almost 100 bedrooms and large meeting rooms to house new members. They call it the Coolock Wing.
Where will it all end?
1974. Expanding now to the north western part of their acreage the women build a final structure – a rambling home for their retired and infirm. Our old Oak looks on and is not surprised at all when a new young Oak is planted close beside its very trunk, under its protecting branches. The young oak takes root on what is surely sacred ground.
1978. While the retirement facility is nearing capacity, the formation and new members, building is more and more sparsely occupied. The old Oak nods wisely.
1981. The women have met to make an important decision. Shall this wing remain idle or are there uses for such space that would further the mission? A questionnaire is circulated; a decision in made. The old Oak breathes a sign of relief. It will feel at home still. The building is to become a spirituality center, a Mercy Center.
1990. Oh they come in droves now! – people of all ages, of all faiths – so many from so many places. They come for one purpose. They come because they seek God. The old Oak is not surprised at all! It always knew it stood on Holy Ground.
1994. It has been over 500 years since our old oak came forth from that tiny acorn. Now it has come to the end of its days. No longer do new shoots of life come forth from its branches. And one by one large limbs have been cut off. The time has come to remove our beautiful Oak. The Young Oak looks on sadly as the desecration takes place – as the power saw hits what remains of its stately companion.
From death comes new life. In the now vacant ground where the old Oak has been uprooted, grow flowers in abundance and with the flowers the busy activity of new life. And the women who built by the stately Oak are not alone anymore. They have joined with others, sisters, associates, collaborators from across the continent, others who hold the same rich heritage, claim the same charism, vision together their future.
And so we rejoice with the young Oak as we share a Mercy heritage, rejoicing in the growth of all its branches, growth that has been shaped by the soil of very different geography, different but nonetheless sacred ground.
Toolan Tales 