Christmas started with a bang – that is, with an organ bang. I don’t know when the custom began, but I know that when I was a postulant in 1950, at 11:30 P.M. on Christmas Eve I let out all the organ stops and crashed into the feast with “Joy to the World.” The novices and postulants had had to go to bed at 8:30 p.m., and 11:30 p.m. was their rising for Midnight Mass. It was quite a welcome surprise for the postulants because things were so austere before Christmas that they were probably wondering if there would be a celebration at all. Well, that organ let them know that this was a big day and indeed, it would be celebrated as such.
We must have opened presents from our families, but what I really remember are the “lumps.” These were little wrapped up goodies with such things as soap, tooth paste and dimity papers etc. The lumps always contained a big candy cane and a large man-sized handkerchief.
Of course we had a Missa Cantata – sung high Mass. And we sang “St. Angela’s Mass”–a piece of music that didn’t deserve the paper on which it was printed. Despite the unworthiness of the music, we practiced it at our Sunday morning practices in Holy Innocents (now the Acacia Room.) The poor school nuns had to leave on the school bus to attend the Mass at their respective school parishes. But they had to attend that darn practice. Sister M. Casimir led the practice but sometimes I had to do it. There I was in my postulant outfit trying to keep my postulant cap on while I directed the singing, all the while hating the music.
I remember Sister M. Baptista (the community treasurer) coming late once. She had to stand and wait for me to give her “the nod,” so she could sit down. Now listening to Sister M. Baptista sing was an event. She had a vibrato that could shake the building if the building would agree. But she was a sweetheart, and all the novices and postulants loved her. She would nod at us in the hallways and “give us a hearty aspiration.” (Praise be to Jesus.) She let us know just how glad she was that we had come to live at 2300.
Sister M. Alexandrine was really in charge of sacred music in the house. She had VERY sensitive ears and issued orders as to which stops were to be used on the organ. I was such a “milk toast” and observed her restrictions. Looking back on it now, I wonder why I was so complacent. I had studied organ with Richard Keys Biggs, and I had been an organ major in college. Well anyway, Alexandrine’s stop combinations were what I used – EXCEPT when I knew she was out of the house. Then I let it rip!
On the subject of organ playing, Sister M. Juliana (everyone’s favorite) had a special position. She was a non-singer and could be spared from singing the St. Angela Mass. The first time I was playing for Mass, Juliana appeared in the organ gallery, arms in big sleeves except when a page turn was required. This unnerved me and so after just one session of this I got up my nerve to say, “Thank you so much but I really don’t need a page turner.” Wow, was she relieved. She hot-footed it downstairs never to appear in the organ gallery again, when I was at the console.
On Christmas afternoon we all filed into the professed community room to be present when the three priests from OLA made their courtesy call. We sat in formation while they sat at the head table and chatted with Mother Cyril, Mother Thomasine and probably Sister M. Assumpta. Poor guys! At least they had a good Happy Hour when they went home.
Speaking of Happy Hours, I recall an event that happened many years later. My sister, Sister Pat, thought it would be great if we had a little glass of wine for Christmas dinner. So off Pat and Sister Rosemary went to Lucky’s to make the purchase. They got a big jug – probably Red Mountain! Rosemary was carrying it out to the parking lot. To her dismay, Father Fergus was coming along in the opposite direction. Not wanting to encounter Fergus with this bottle in hand, Rosemary crashed into a telephone pole. Fortunately the treasured “goods” did not break, and Pat and Rosemary continued on their way home.
Once they were home they had to pass through the hurdle of Mother Monica, the current superior. Now of all the superiors, Monica would have been the best for any permission. I don’t know whatever happened in that superior’s office, but I do know that those little thimble wine glasses were not filled that night but a rather happy mold of Jello came forth!
Another Christmas I remember specially was when we lived in the High School Community. Pat Ryan was superior, and another sister I will not name was the second in command. Pat R. was traveling with my sister, Pat Toolan. They were taking a group of kids to Europe for the Christmas holidays. Alas, “the unnamed” was left in charge of us. Mistake!
Things were going along ok – at least, no insurrection. And then came the actual day of Christmas. We all opened our presents. (It was always amusing for us high school teachers. The grammar school teachers had tables and tables of gifts that were given to them by grateful parents of students. We high school teachers had one card table and that was plenty of space for all of our gifts; our one table was not full.)
Anyway, on this Christmas day we did indeed open our presents. When everything was finished, to our dismay “The unnamed” rolled in a gurney and placed all our presents on the gurney. Off she wheeled them to the closet in the superior’s office. Now this had not even happened to us in the novitiate! All was not well. We were just plain mad.
Anyway, when Pat Ryan arrived home we didn’t even ask her how she enjoyed the trip. There was a unison chorus: NEVER leave that woman in charge again!
Note: “The unnamed” eventually left the community. She was a fine woman, and I’m sure she lived the rest of her life well.
Toolan Tales 