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Sister Amelia: A Journey of Self-Discovery and Transformation Sister Amelia Part 1 Everyone has pivotal moments where a decision taken irrevocably changes the course of one's life, often these can only be identified with the benefit of hindsight but, Martha was in no doubt that such a moment had come. She sat alone in the long room, the interview panel of four nuns and a priest had finished their searching questions and had retired to the ante room to decide her fate. She had written many months before offering herself for a life of purity and devotion, and as they sought to establish she was serious she had supplied gradually more and more references from her own priest, school teachers even her own parents who wished her to have a rich and full life, get married have kids, and more important, look after them in their old age in the small town nestling in the mountains of Nebraska. Martha was surprised at the beauty of the downtown offices, a glass and steel building maybe ten years old, no ostentatious luxury but everything he highest quality, Marble floors and pillars, beautifully carved chairs and tables, everything polished to a deep lustre, and the paintings hung around the walls, the last supper, palm sunday, not old masters but beautifully done, in beautiful hand carved frames, only the bestseemed good enough here. The door opened and she stood up as she thought she ought. …the next moment changed everything
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Sister Amelia: A Journey of Self-Discovery and Transformation
Sister Amelia
Part 1
Everyone has pivotal moments where a decision taken irrevocably changes the course of one's life, often these can only be identified with the benefit of hindsight but, Martha was in no doubt that such a moment had come. She sat alone in the long room, the interview panel of four nuns and a priest had finished their searching questions and had retired to the ante room to decide her fate.
She had written many months before offering herself for a life of purity and devotion, and as they sought to establish she was serious she had supplied gradually more and more references from her own priest, school teachers even her own parents who wished her to have a rich and full life, get married have kids, and more important, look after them in their old age in the small town nestling in the mountains of Nebraska.
Martha was surprised at the beauty of the downtown offices, a glass and steel building maybe ten years old, no ostentatious luxury but everything he highest quality, Marble floors and pillars, beautifully carved chairs and tables, everything polished to a deep lustre, and the paintings hung around the walls, the last supper, palm sunday, not old masters but beautifully done, in beautiful hand carved frames, only the bestseemed good enough here.
The door opened and she stood up as she thought she ought.
The Priest returned, holding the file containing her papers, he smiled a friendly smile
"We have doubts, Martha, but we will give you the benefit of that doubt, so If you agree, we welcome you to our order."
Martha was puzzled "Agree"
"Yes my dear, we feel a trial period, is in order, if you or indeed the Order decide that you are nor fitted for this life, then we will help you regain your place in outside society, but the test for you is leaving familiar surroundings, we shall send you
abroad to train."
Martha sat down as if in shock, she had figured she would at least remain in the USA, but abroad. "When do I go?" she enquired.
The Priest was reassuring," The flight leaves at six so you have an hour to ring your parents, before the car comes for you"
Martha's head spun "Where am I going?" she asked.
He smiled "Questions, are you sure you wish a life of obedience?"
She nodded, "What about my stuff."
A kindly middle aged Nun spoke "We shall supply everything required, and hold your possessions until you take final vows, then we shall give them to the poor."
Martha walked to the desk and slowly and deliberately added her signature to the documents four sets being provided in the best bureaucratic traditions, and then as the nuns quietly smiled at her the eldest sister gently took Martha's hand and led her to the side room, phone, phone books, pen, writing paper with the orders heading, envelopes, laptop computer everything necessary for a final call or letter home sat on the simple desk.
The nun spoke softly "You have an hour,"
Martha left a message on her mom's answering service, wrote her friends an email and her grandmother a letter and then it was time to go.
A nun entered, "You are Martha Allen yes?" she enquired.
Martha turned and saw a vision of beauty, in her simple black robe, with her hair covered just her face fringed with the white headdress, unadorned natural but beautiful.
"I'm Martha , Hi " she agreed.
"Good I am Sister Charlotte, your chaperone; I have a dress for you, more suitable than you so short skirt I think." Charlotte held the simple long black dress out to Martha.
"Please put this on, we have a plane to catch".
Martha slipped off her red Jacket and her knee length skirt, standing self consciously in her tee white tee shirt and pantyhose with her frilly pink knickers and brassiere faintly visible through the translucent material.
The long black dress fitted perfectly, to her surprise, and Charlotte agreed her flat heeled black shoes would be fine.
"Your case is in the car, so leave your purse on the table by your jacket and we can go."
Martha was completely unprepared for this, her cell phone, all her private stuff, her comb.
Charlotte spoke soothingly, "It is time to leave such materialistic things aside, come I have your papers, time to go."
Martha felt strangely naked without her cell phone and purse, yet in black with no perceptible cleavage and a hemline near her ankles she was almost as covered up as when wearing her dad's boiler suit when she had helped fix the shed roof last fall.
A black Limousine waited for them at the kerbside, Martha looked surprised at it's opulence, Charlotte reassured her, "It's the Bishop's, we borrow it to save the cost of a Taxi". As it sped them to the airport, Martha reflected on what she had done in the past and dreamed of the future, and what was in store for her, perhaps singing Ave Maria to a crowded abbey or monastery chapel or Nessum Dorma, originally and properly a Soprano solo not the Tenor of Pavarotti and the like, Martha loved to sing, and had she realised it was the love of music not God that had set her on this course...
On arrival at the Airport the check in was perfunctory and they were whisked to the executive lounge.
Martha was surprised, "Why first class"
Charlotte chuckled, "It's an upgrade, only the best for God, we pay standby yet fly first class, don't ask, enjoy."
The plane was near empty, a 747 and while Charlotte sampled the delights of the drinks trolley Martha tried to sleep.
The flight was long and uneventful, and landing silky smooth.
Charlotte staggered and swayed through customs and failed to recognise her bags on the luggage carousel until Martha guessed it must be the nondescript brown one,
but a Limousine similar to the one they travelled in earlier was waiting for them and soon they were heading out into the mountains, climbing ever higher, the dizzying height amplified by the tortuous hairpin bends, Martha felt queasy in her stomach as clearly Charlotte did too .
Charlottte asked the driver to stop, and she walked to the edge of the highway where clutching a guard rail as they surveyed a thousand foot drop Charlotte threw up, the golden chunks of vomit shining and glistening in the Italian sun, as they tumbled and fell.
Charlotte explained "I cannot resist the alcohol, all other temptation yes, wine no, but Jesus did he not turn water into wine?" she hiccupped and motioned for them to return to the car.
The convent was situated for defence rather than comfortable living, they passed an ornate gatehouse and continued for several miles it seemed climbing higher and higher up the single track road every now and again passing places equipped with red and green lights were provided to regulate traffic and at one point a lifting bridge over a ravine provided additional security, The road ending at a turning head and car park over a mile short of the mountain top on which the bleak stone Convent perched. Martha noticed several Nuns loading provisions from a supermarket truck onto a four wheeled cart.
Charlotte collected their cases and they set off to walk up the narrow winding track.
The wind whistled around and a brief flurry of rain welcomed them as they entered the portals of the Convent of St Angelique.
Charlotte announced their return at the reception desk, a modern desk with computer screens fitted into the thirteenth century architecture.
She looked at Martha, smiled and told her to wait, and with a small wave walked away.
Martha heard footsteps, almost military in their regularity, and a small nun approached, maybe sixty Martha guessed.
"I am sister Grace, you I presume are Martha"
"Yes Sister"
"Then come with me." Martha followed along long cold corridors with plain stone walls and worn stone floors, and up narrow stone staircases until they arrived in a long room. a long partition ran the length of the room seeming to divide a section into cubicles. "We have been allocated the name Amelia, Sister Amelia, for when you take your final vows."
Martha was stunned, they were even going to take away her name, "I like being Martha" she complained.
Grace smiled, "I was Tiffany, Fanny they called me, I like Grace better, you will like being Amelia, you will see."
Sister Grace opened a door and showed Martha her cubicle, a wooden shelf two feet wide a foot off the floor on one side, shelves a foot wide on the other and coat hooks in the far wall the only fittings, A coarse blanket lay on the wide shelf.
Grace smiled. "Your new home, you will like it here I know, now put the robe you brought with you on, and the shoes and I shall return for the other things in a few minutes, oh and the ear stud, and your watch. I shall fetch refreshment."
Martha unlocked the case, two robes, two shoes, and a simple rectangle of cloth all bound round a beautiful reproduction antique bible.
Martha realised the implications, but quickly undressed and slipped the long robe over her head, it was coarse and it irritated her breasts but at least it was thick and warm.
She slipped on the boots, a perfect fit.
Sister Grace reappeared carrying a tray, "You do like chicken I hope, and chipped potatoes?"
Martha liked eating chicken but hated having to kill and pluck the birds that had become pets back home.
Grace collected Martha's clothes. "It takes some getting used to but it's so much more healthy, I remember my tight pants used to leave horrible marks around my waist, oh yes I was young once too."
Martha was intrigued, "Do all the Nuns speak English?"
Grace replied, "We train Nuns for English speaking Countries so yes, but some days are silent so we communicate by sign."
Grace turned to leave, "I shall collect the tray, and take you to the lavatories in a few minutes."
Grace returned and led Martha along the row of cubicles to THE END
Part 1
Everyone has pivotal moments where a decision taken irrevocably changes the course of one's life, often these can only be identified with the benefit of hindsight but, Martha was in no doubt that such a moment had come. She sat alone in the long room, the interview panel of four nuns and a priest had finished their searching questions and had retired to the ante room to decide her fate.
She had written many months before offering herself for a life of purity and devotion, and as they sought to establish she was serious she had supplied gradually more and more references from her own priest, school teachers even her own parents who wished her to have a rich and full life, get married have kids, and more important, look after them in their old age in the small town nestling in the mountains of Nebraska.
Martha was surprised at the beauty of the downtown offices, a glass and steel building maybe ten years old, no ostentatious luxury but everything he highest quality, Marble floors and pillars, beautifully carved chairs and tables, everything polished to a deep lustre, and the paintings hung around the walls, the last supper, palm sunday, not old masters but beautifully done, in beautiful hand carved frames, only the bestseemed good enough here.
The door opened and she stood up as she thought she ought.
The Priest returned, holding the file containing her papers, he smiled a friendly smile
"We have doubts, Martha, but we will give you the benefit of that doubt, so If you agree, we welcome you to our order."
Martha was puzzled "Agree"
"Yes my dear, we feel a trial period, is in order, if you or indeed the Order decide that you are nor fitted for this life, then we will help you regain your place in outside society, but the test for you is leaving familiar surroundings, we shall send you
abroad to train."
Martha sat down as if in shock, she had figured she would at least remain in the USA, but abroad. "When do I go?" she enquired.
The Priest was reassuring," The flight leaves at six so you have an hour to ring your parents, before the car comes for you"
Martha's head spun "Where am I going?" she asked.
He smiled "Questions, are you sure you wish a life of obedience?"
She nodded, "What about my stuff."
A kindly middle aged Nun spoke "We shall supply everything required, and hold your possessions until you take final vows, then we shall give them to the poor."
Martha walked to the desk and slowly and deliberately added her signature to the documents four sets being provided in the best bureaucratic traditions, and then as the nuns quietly smiled at her the eldest sister gently took Martha's hand and led her to the side room, phone, phone books, pen, writing paper with the orders heading, envelopes, laptop computer everything necessary for a final call or letter home sat on the simple desk.
The nun spoke softly "You have an hour,"
Martha left a message on her mom's answering service, wrote her friends an email and her grandmother a letter and then it was time to go.
A nun entered, "You are Martha Allen yes?" she enquired.
Martha turned and saw a vision of beauty, in her simple black robe, with her hair covered just her face fringed with the white headdress, unadorned natural but beautiful.
"I'm Martha , Hi " she agreed.
"Good I am Sister Charlotte, your chaperone; I have a dress for you, more suitable than you so short skirt I think." Charlotte held the simple long black dress out to Martha.
"Please put this on, we have a plane to catch".
Martha slipped off her red Jacket and her knee length skirt, standing self consciously in her tee white tee shirt and pantyhose with her frilly pink knickers and brassiere faintly visible through the translucent material.
The long black dress fitted perfectly, to her surprise, and Charlotte agreed her flat heeled black shoes would be fine.
"Your case is in the car, so leave your purse on the table by your jacket and we can go."
Martha was completely unprepared for this, her cell phone, all her private stuff, her comb.
Charlotte spoke soothingly, "It is time to leave such materialistic things aside, come I have your papers, time to go."
Martha felt strangely naked without her cell phone and purse, yet in black with no perceptible cleavage and a hemline near her ankles she was almost as covered up as when wearing her dad's boiler suit when she had helped fix the shed roof last fall.
A black Limousine waited for them at the kerbside, Martha looked surprised at it's opulence, Charlotte reassured her, "It's the Bishop's, we borrow it to save the cost of a Taxi". As it sped them to the airport, Martha reflected on what she had done in the past and dreamed of the future, and what was in store for her, perhaps singing Ave Maria to a crowded abbey or monastery chapel or Nessum Dorma, originally and properly a Soprano solo not the Tenor of Pavarotti and the like, Martha loved to sing, and had she realised it was the love of music not God that had set her on this course...
On arrival at the Airport the check in was perfunctory and they were whisked to the executive lounge.
Martha was surprised, "Why first class"
Charlotte chuckled, "It's an upgrade, only the best for God, we pay standby yet fly first class, don't ask, enjoy."
The plane was near empty, a 747 and while Charlotte sampled the delights of the drinks trolley Martha tried to sleep.
The flight was long and uneventful, and landing silky smooth.
Charlotte staggered and swayed through customs and failed to recognise her bags on the luggage carousel until Martha guessed it must be the nondescript brown one,
but a Limousine similar to the one they travelled in earlier was waiting for them and soon they were heading out into the mountains, climbing ever higher, the dizzying height amplified by the tortuous hairpin bends, Martha felt queasy in her stomach as clearly Charlotte did too .
Charlottte asked the driver to stop, and she walked to the edge of the highway where clutching a guard rail as they surveyed a thousand foot drop Charlotte threw up, the golden chunks of vomit shining and glistening in the Italian sun, as they tumbled and fell.
Charlotte explained "I cannot resist the alcohol, all other temptation yes, wine no, but Jesus did he not turn water into wine?" she hiccupped and motioned for them to return to the car.
The convent was situated for defence rather than comfortable living, they passed an ornate gatehouse and continued for several miles it seemed climbing higher and higher up the single track road every now and again passing places equipped with red and green lights were provided to regulate traffic and at one point a lifting bridge over a ravine provided additional security, The road ending at a turning head and car park over a mile short of the mountain top on which the bleak stone Convent perched. Martha noticed several Nuns loading provisions from a supermarket truck onto a four wheeled cart.
Charlotte collected their cases and they set off to walk up the narrow winding track.
The wind whistled around and a brief flurry of rain welcomed them as they entered the portals of the Convent of St Angelique.
Charlotte announced their return at the reception desk, a modern desk with computer screens fitted into the thirteenth century architecture.
She looked at Martha, smiled and told her to wait, and with a small wave walked away.
Martha heard footsteps, almost military in their regularity, and a small nun approached, maybe sixty Martha guessed.
"I am sister Grace, you I presume are Martha"
"Yes Sister"
"Then come with me." Martha followed along long cold corridors with plain stone walls and worn stone floors, and up narrow stone staircases until they arrived in a long room. a long partition ran the length of the room seeming to divide a section into cubicles. "We have been allocated the name Amelia, Sister Amelia, for when you take your final vows."
Martha was stunned, they were even going to take away her name, "I like being Martha" she complained.
Grace smiled, "I was Tiffany, Fanny they called me, I like Grace better, you will like being Amelia, you will see."
Sister Grace opened a door and showed Martha her cubicle, a wooden shelf two feet wide a foot off the floor on one side, shelves a foot wide on the other and coat hooks in the far wall the only fittings, A coarse blanket lay on the wide shelf.
Grace smiled. "Your new home, you will like it here I know, now put the robe you brought with you on, and the shoes and I shall return for the other things in a few minutes, oh and the ear stud, and your watch. I shall fetch refreshment."
Martha unlocked the case, two robes, two shoes, and a simple rectangle of cloth all bound round a beautiful reproduction antique bible.
Martha realised the implications, but quickly undressed and slipped the long robe over her head, it was coarse and it irritated her breasts but at least it was thick and warm.
She slipped on the boots, a perfect fit.
Sister Grace reappeared carrying a tray, "You do like chicken I hope, and chipped potatoes?"
Martha liked eating chicken but hated having to kill and pluck the birds that had become pets back home.
Grace collected Martha's clothes. "It takes some getting used to but it's so much more healthy, I remember my tight pants used to leave horrible marks around my waist, oh yes I was young once too."
Martha was intrigued, "Do all the Nuns speak English?"
Grace replied, "We train Nuns for English speaking Countries so yes, but some days are silent so we communicate by sign."
Grace turned to leave, "I shall collect the tray, and take you to the lavatories in a few minutes."
Grace returned and led Martha along the row of cubicles to THE END
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