Echoes

Lunch and recreation were over by the time Mother Teresa Maria Mater Domini had finished speaking to her, and she joined the other sisters for the litany of the Blessed Virgin, and tried to concentrate on it and not on all that the Mother Superior had said to her. There had been a lot to take in. There was reading afterward, and then she was sent to scrub down the kitchen before dinner. She was on her hands and knees for most of the afternoon, praying as she did so. And then she helped with the preparations for dinner. The nuns were constantly busy and working, and praying while they worked, which was why silence was so important. She was exhausted by the time they went to vespers, but exhilarated as they prayed in silence. And finally, the angelus announced dinner. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, and she had been too excited to eat much then. They ate beans and potatoes and vegetables for dinner, and fruit from the garden, while the nuns chatted quietly over their food. There were a number of girls Amadea's age, many of them wearing the garb of postulants, and others already wearing the habit of novices. Many had come in even younger than she, or they looked it. The nuns who already wore the black veil of the order looked like saints to her, with angelic faces, peaceful expressions, and warm, loving eyes. Amadea had never been happier than she was here. Many of them spoke kindly to her over dinner. And she saw that several of the younger nuns were taking care of the elderly nuns, some of whom were brought to dinner in wheelchairs and sat chatting like grandmothers, flanked by their young aides.

After dinner and a brief half-hour of recreation, where they compared needlework they were doing and vestments they were making for the church, they prayed together then for half an hour, and then prayed in silence for two hours until they prayed together for a last time and went to bed. They had to be up at five-thirty and at prayer again by six o'clock. They would pray then for two hours, before mass at eight, followed by breakfast, and work until the daily examination of conscience, and then lunch. It was a full day, full of prayer and hard work. There was nothing about it that dismayed Amadea. She had known what she was coming to, and this was what she wanted. Her days and life would be full forever, and her heart light, in the bosom of Carmel.

When she entered her cell at ten o'clock that night, she saw the nuns whom she would share it with, two of them novices and another who was a postulant like her. They nodded their heads at each other, smiled, and turned the lights out to put on their nightgowns which were made of rough wool that had been washed a thousand times, and still scratched. There was no heating in their cells, and the gowns itched miserably, but it was a sacrifice they willingly made. They were to become the spouses of a crucified Christ, who had died on the cross in anguish for them. This was the least they could do for Him. Amadea knew she would get used to it in time. For an instant, she thought of the delicate silk and cotton nightgowns her mother had always made for her, and then reminded herself just as quickly that she would have to offer that thought up the next day during her examination of conscience. She could bring no such memories with her here. And whenever they intruded on her, she would have to do penance for it, and correct her thought as soon as it came to mind. She had no time to waste on mourning comforts of a past life.

She lay in bed that night, thinking of her mother and Daphne, and praying for them. She prayed that God would take good care of them, and keep them healthy and happy. And just for a moment, she felt tears sting her eyes, and reminded herself that she would have to pray about that, too. She was the monitor of her own conscience, and the porter at the door to her thoughts. She could allow nothing but thoughts of Christ in, as the Mother Superior had told her that day. She remembered them in her prayers, as she drifted off to sleep, and said a prayer for her grandmother who had died two months before and was in Heaven now.

And as she lay in bed that night, with Daphne lying next to her, having cried herself to sleep, Beata was thinking of her mother, too, and the child she had just lost to God. She prayed, as Amadea had, to keep her happy and safe. And then for no particular reason, she said a prayer for all Jews.

12