Month: September 2019

Nature and Grace

Who do we think of when we hear these words, “Nature and Grace?” Of course, it is Sister M. Juliana Stapleton.  How many times Juliana regaled us by putting before us these two possibilities.  Nature acts this easy way, but grace prompts us to act in this more noble way. 

Nature is the way that brings immediate pleasure and comfort, but grace is the way that takes us on that narrow road and it is not so pleasant.  The model for Julian’s discourse was “The Imitation of Christ.” Julianna had a way of catching us in our foibles and making it funny as she contrasted how we SHOULD act and how we DO act .

Juliana was a wonderful English teacher. She had a breadth of vision and used Literature to express it. Students would especially love to hear her read aloud to the class.

Juliana taught at Mercy, Burlingame for years.  There she was loved by all.  She was comfortable in her teaching, but then came the tragedy of Sister M. Charleta Barry’s rather early death.  Charleta was a much-loved principal.  With her death, Juliana had to take over as principal, a job for which she was not suited.  But, most of all, Juliana missed Charleta.  Both in their thirties, these two were best friends. 

When I knew her, Juliana was back teaching.  We used to love our time in the “Sisters’ Room,” a room on the first floor that had been a wine cellar when the building was a mansion but converted into a chemistry lab when the building was made a school.  Now it became the room where sister faculty went for breaks and for lunch.  The famous caravans – containers of meat, potatoes and veggies were delivered here.  The old chemistry tables were still there.  We had so much fun in that room and Juliana was the source of most of it.

On days when things got difficult Juliana would often say, “I’m going to get my big beaver hat and walk right out of here and down Adeline.” Her favorite exclamations were “Great Scott!” and “Great Caesar’s Ghost!”

One summer when we were having a Chapter, Juliana was not a member of the group.  It was in the days when each house sent two delegates.  The Motherhouse always got the short end of it because the superior always went and there was always a General Councilor who lived with us.  She went as an ex-officio delegate and they counted her as our second delegate.  We always thought that was very unfair. 

Much to Juliana’s surprise, as the elections went along, she was voted to be on the General Council.  She had been doing things around the house and when she got word to come to the Chapter she had to hunt around for her big sleeves so that she could make an appearance at the Chapter.  Well, she was a wonderful addition to that Council.  Not only was she very wise, she was loved by the entire community.

Somewhere along the way, Juliana became active in arranging our retreats and she became the retreat organizer for these events. Then she became a retreat director herself, and everyone wanted direction from her.

Juliana did all the arrangements for a Thirty-Day Retreat given by Fr. Armond Nigro, SJ.  This retreat was a big thing because Nigro was very much in demand.  There were about thirty of us on that retreat.  Juliana assigned retreat directors.  Nigro gave the conferences and celebrated Mass.  He didn’t have any directees.  However, Juliana asked him to direct me!  It couldn’t have been worse. I spent every day trying to think of what I would say to this famous man when I met him in the early evening.  It was torture.  I would so much rather have had Juliana herself as my director.

I don’t remember Juliana showing the signs of aging, but indeed she must have had health problems.  It came as a terrible shock to all of us when she died.  It must have been a shock for the doctor too, because she died there in his office.

Well, Juliana was truly a beloved member of the community.  She was a wise woman who had a wonderful sense of humor and she will never be forgotten.

We really had an Uncle Henry, but we didn’t meet him until we moved to California.  In the Los Angeles area we discovered a whole branch of the Schwartz family that we didn’t know existed.  Schwartz was my Mother’s name and these cousins were related to her.  As we got to know them, we found we didn’t especially care for them – especially Uncle Henry.

Now there are four “girls” in our family.  Three of us entered the Sisters of Mercy.  The fourth is named Suzanne. It was her name I received when I became a sister. My sister Suzanne entered a religious community also, but it was the Sisters of Charity in Ohio.

As the original Suzanne boarded the train for her trip to Ohio, my Father was a bit apprehensive.  He said, “Suzanne, if you ever want to come home, you just let me know.  It may be that they censor your mail.  In that case let’s use a code.  Just write, ‘How is Uncle Henry?’  We’ll know we have to get there fast and get you out.”  Well, we all laughed, but believe it or not, that is what happened.  I don’t know why Suzanne thought she couldn’t just tell them she wanted to go but she didn’t.  That “How is Uncle Henry” letter arrived at 7400 Hollywood Blvd. and my Dad took the next train to Ohio and brought Suzanne home with him.  This was war time and air travel was out of the question.

Now I’ll skip ahead a few years to another of my siblings – Mary Louise.

Mary Louse needs not a little article but a whole book written about her.  A more colorful character you couldn’t imagine.  Mary Louise left the Sisters of Mercy for a period of time.  In this interim there were some extraordinary happenings in her life!  I’ll relate one of them.

Mary Louise loved to get new jobs.  She was very capable and could do all sorts of things.  Anyway, once when she was quite bored she was looking through the L.A. Times and found an ad.  It was for a tutor to accompany a family to Hawaii for an extended time.  Sounded good to M.L. so she applied.  She received an answer to her inquiry right away and was invited to meet this family immediately at the airport for lunch.

All seemed to go well.  The woman was impressed with M.L’s credentials and M.L. was impressed with the family.  She instantly liked the little boy and thought she would enjoy teaching him.  SO – off they went to Hawaii to quite a lavish residence.  In fact, the life style of this family was opulent.  The woman went into M.L’s closet and took her clothes out and replaced them with clothes of her own choice.  M.L. didn’t like this, but she liked the woman and thought she could live with the substitute clothes the woman provided her.

Pretty soon M.L. began noticing two Hispanic maids.  They seemed very unhappy and they seemed to be constantly working.  M.L. was very kind to them and even though she couldn’t speak Spanish she sensed the women were trying to tell her something.

In the meantime M.L. was enjoying the little boy.  He was a pleasure to teach and M.L., in addition to teaching him subjects appropriate for his age, began to tell him stories about God.

All seemed to go well but M.L. was uneasy about the two unhappy maids.  Somehow they communicated to her that they were being ill- treated.  They never had any time off and their living quarters were very poor.  When M.L spoke to the woman about her concerns, the woman turned on her and M.L.’s life began to change.  No longer was she the favored tutor of the little boy, the one who could do no wrong.

Well, at this time M.L. came to realize that the two young maids had been trafficked.  She later found out that they were forced into the country in the trunk of a car.  M.L. began to worry about her own safety too.

Here comes Uncle Henry!  We received a letter from M.L.  Not knowing if her mail was censored, M.L. wrote, “How is Uncle Henry?”  Now WE began to worry BUT knowing M.L. we knew she was very resourceful and that she could take care of herself.  Indeed, she did take care of herself and she left a message for the maids to get out of there fast!

Now moving ahead a bit – the woman was apprehended and brought to court.  M.L. was summoned as a witness.  She was worried about it and asked my sister Suzanne to come along.  When it came time for M.L’s testimony she was so nervous and upset that she just cried and was unable to help the prosecutor very much.

The woman was jailed for a time and that is the last we heard about her UNTIL we noticed a mini-series on TV that began to sound very familiar. The series was entitled, “American Greed: Deadly Rich.” It was about a woman, Sante Kimes and her son, Kenny who were accused of murdering a woman in her New York apartment.

It seems that this duo, mother and son, asked to rent a spectacular apartment in a high rent district of N.Y. for $6,000 a month.  The owner was a woman named Irene Silverman.  Silverman noted the very strange behavior of mother and son.  Among other things, they always covered their faces in front of the corridor TV camera. Silverman asked the couple to leave but instead, they murdered her, taking all her possessions. Friends noted Irene’s absence and began to get suspicious.  They contacted the police.

As I read an account of this couple on line, I was horrified to see the evil that they perpetrated.  They were responsible for considerable theft and several murders.  Look it up online!  Sante and Kenneth Kimes.

I later read an article about a reporter visiting the prison where Kenny was incarcerated.  At one point Kenny got the woman’s ballpoint pen away from her and attempted to take her hostage.

Despite everything M.L. learned about Kenny, she insisted he was a lovely little boy and was just “turned” by his evil mother.  As for Sante, the Mother, M.L. was always worried that she would get out of prison and come after her with snakes. She had discovered that M.L. was terrified of snakes.  In the articles on Google, I found that Sante died in prison at age 79.  Kenny must still be incarcerated. 

So much for M.L’s lovely little boy.  But thanks for the family code, “How is Uncle Henry?” 

Guests who come to 2300 Adeline Drive tell us that the minute they drive through our front gates they feel a sense of peace.  These comments always make us happy and very grateful for the 40 acres of beauty our foremothers so carefully chose back in 1924.

But these gates have their own story.  I remember as a newly professed sister back in the early 50’s, we juniors would have to open those gates in the early morning.  The men, and “the men” at the time meant our faithful Pat O’Brien and Pat Kennefick, did EVERYTHING from maintenance to tending the boilers, to driving the school bus, and probably many more things, but I don’t know what they were.)  “The men” would lock the gate at 5 P.M. and it remained closed for the night. It was up to us Junior Professed Sisters to open it in the morning so that the priest from Our Lady of Angels could come in for Mass. 

We juniors would rush down to the gate as soon as we could so that we would be back in time for 5:25 A.M. Meditation in chapel.  The brisk walk (almost run) would really wake us up and there was a good chance we would stay awake during meditation.

In rainy weather there were the most god-awful rain coats you could imagine.  They covered one head to toe, maybe even the toe.  And they were a disaster to put on and take off.  But they did the job.  We returned to our stall for meditation with dry habits.

Time marched on and in the early 60’s there was a sort of reprieve.  There was one way that we could avoid this early morning excursion.  The high school had a unique janitor, Bill, who lived at the Lodge.  It was his job to unlock the gates.  The trouble was that we couldn’t rely on Bill to do this, and we would get in trouble if the priest didn’t show up for 6 A.M. Mass. 

My room faced the back road.  While I was getting ready to go down to chapel, I would keep my eye on that road.  I would see the headlights of Bill’s car and then I would know that the gate would be open!  My way of communicating with the poor nuns who had gate duty that morning was to place a little white card on the ledge of the first pew in chapel.  Then there would be happiness in the hearts of two young nuns.  However, if I didn’t see Bill’s headlights, I would put a blue card on the first pew. Then there would be, at best –resignation.

We could always rely on “the men” to lock the gates at 5 P.M.  The trouble came if there was a high school function at night.  Naturally, it would only be a high school function because there was never anything at the convent that happened after 5 P.M.

If a high school sister was in charge of a night function, she had to remember to tell “the men” not to lock the gates at 5 P.M.  I found this out the hard way.  It was the first spring Glee Club Concert for which I was in charge.  I was walking up the hill with the principal of the school.  She casually mentioned, “You DID tell the men to keep the gate open, didn’t you?”  Of course I didn’t!  No one had told me!  Well, this was just the first in a series of things I did wrong.  Fortunately, the girls sang very well, and the principal put up with me for these little lapses. 

Now, these many years later, as I look at those lovely gates, I am so happy to see the two shields of Mercy.  One says, “Sisters of Mercy” and the other says, “Mercy Center.”  How wonderful that these gates open both ways.  We share our sacred space and our years of prayer and service.  Mercy Center guests bring the richness of their own lives and their deep search for God.  O admirabile commercium.  O wonderful exchange!

Sister Mary Gabriel Nelson on the right.

She was half Russian and she was proud of it.  Her Father, (the Russian half) was not present to the family.  I don’t know the story but I do know that Gabriel’s Grandmother and Mother were very dominant. 

Gabriel and her sister, Consolata, were dressed alike and went to school in rather old-fashioned clothes.  They lived on a steep hill, went to St. Peter’s School and were very proud to be San Franciscans. Both girls were very bright.  They graduated from St. Peter’s in 1945.  Gabriel went on to Nurse’s Training at St. Mary’s Hospital. There she excelled in studies and in mischief.

Gabriel stayed in training for just the one year and then followed her sister, Consolata, by entering the Sisters of Mercy.  I suppose she expected to continue her studies to be a nurse after she finished the novitiate.  That was not to be.  Like so many of our young sisters at the time, she went right into the area most needed by the community.  Sometimes nurses were needed in the Mercy world and sometimes teachers were in demand.

I’ll continue this from the time I knew Gabriel.  She was teaching history at Mercy, Burlingame.  She was, of course, a favorite among the girls.  She said outrageous things that were very funny.  The kids loved it.  But she was an excellent teacher. There were years when she went around with a yo-yo in her spare time.  She was determined she would do extraordinary tricks with it.  Actually she had difficulty with the ordinary tricks, I noticed. That didn’t keep her from trying – and from amusing us.

It was fun being with Gabriel.  My sister Pat, (aka Sister M. Ernest), remembered a time she went to the doctor with her.  Absolutely nothing unusual or exciting happened but when they got home Gabriel recounted all the amazing things that she had seen and heard.  My sister saw or heard nothing of what was being spoken.  She was in utter amazement at what this woman was saying.  Well, Gabriel could spin a yarn.

Every visiting Sunday Mama and Grandma trudged up Adeline Drive to see “the girls.”  They had taken the bus from San Francisco.  They always brought a Blum’s cake.  Eventually Blums went out of business – probably when Mama and Grandma no longer gave them their patronage.   

Gabriel arrived at Mercy, Burlingame the same year as Sisters Rosemary Sullivan and Barbara Moran.  They called themselves the “Three Bears.”  Gabe was Papa Bear, Barbara was Mama Bear and Rosemary was Baby Bear.  Sister M. Martin, the Principal called this her Kindergarten Faculty. 

The first day of school Martin had the freshman class line up on the tennis courts.  Each of the teachers was to read off the names of the girls who would be in her section.  When it came to Gabriel’s turn, she was very nervous, and for the rest of her life we would imitate her shaky voice reading the names of that section:  “Mi Mi Mina Mae Aaaahern.”

Gabriel looked forward to those extraordinary days in community when  we were free to do things like go into the walk-in fridge at night and rescue any food that looked good.  She would make an enormous onion and salami sandwich and love every bite of it.

I remember one time at St. Hilary’s.  St. Hilary’s was a welcome respite from the rather austere lives we led.  We were on vacation for one week of the year and it was heaven.  We didn’t have to rise at 5 A.M. -hospital sisters even earlier than that.  (Well, there is such a gold mine about life at St. Hilary’s that I won’t write of it here.  There is just too much.)

We were to go home from St. Hilary’s on this particular Last Wednesday (when we had Chapter of Faults, where we asked pardon for any inconvenience caused by loud noises, forgetfulness, carelessness, but nothing in the realm of conscience).  Gabriel was lamenting an event that would crown the evening of our arrival home.  All day she went around bemoaning, “I have no matter” (meaning:  nothing to declare).  Well, around 2 P.M. she came to the group swinging her broken pocket watch saying, “I have matter.”

Gabriel and Consolata were wonderful about attending plays, musicals, and especially games in which the girls were participants.  However, Gabriel was shocked with my sister and me when we were putting on a little opera: “Amahl and the Night Visitors.” She finally let us know her objection.  She thought it was “A mol and her night visitors” and she thought it was a strange thing for our girls to be involved in a musical about illicit activities.  She came to the opera and loved it.  She had a way of remembering little phrases of any production and repeating them at appropriate times.

The MAA (Mercy Athletic Association) loved these two sisters, Gabriel and Consolata.  They were the biggest fans at every game.  Later, Consolata became the Vice Principal and she dealt with the Student Body Officers.  She was wonderful with them and they could do no wrong.  They took over one of the rooms on the Fourth Floor.  Just to get up to the forbidden Fourth Floor was worth all the time put in this rather thankless job.

Consolata

I have just one incident to add about Consolata and it occurred at the end of her life.

Marguerite and I were giving a retreat to retired Holy Cross sisters in Ventura.   One morning I related a dream that I had the night before.  I am so glad that I told Marguerite this dream at breakfast because I don’t think anyone would have believed me.

In my dream Consolata had died.  I went to her room (in my dream it was Room 268 in Mercy Center).  Consolata opened the door; she looked very calm, but she told me she was not ready to die.  I came back a little later.  She opened the door and I swear the room had a goldish color.  She said, “I’m ready.”  She didn’t say it in a dramatic way – just as a matter of fact.

Well, that was my dream.  Marguerite and I laughed over the fact that Consie had not been ready.  (She always had unfinished projects all over the house and the school.)

The extraordinary happening was that after that breakfast, around noon, we received a phone call telling us that Consie had just died.  Now she was still ok at the time of my dream.  She had been on retreat and she drove two sisters (one of them was Maggie Hoey and I don’t remember the other).  She was having difficulty driving but made it to the carport.  She got out of the car, sat on the bench and died.

Both Nelson girls came to an abrupt earthly end.  Both died of a heart attack, Consolata on a bench outside the carport and Gabe on the first day of school as she was preparing the History Resource Center for the arrival of the girls. 

Both sisters were characters and they were our good friends.