Why Am I Not In School? Part II

So I ended the first one with a tale, and now I shall continue and end this one, I ended Part I by saying that A BOOK popped into my head, here is part II:



I strolled into my room to find my cat Chewie snooping about, I half grinned, and stride to my Novitiate Library and picked a book that popped into my head, standing in the shelf innocently right next to "To Heaven With Diana" edited by Sister Judith Miryam in Summit NJ with her card she wrote me jutting out slightly as a bookmark, I plopped down on my couch (my bed) and Chewie jumped on as well and laid down by me and the stress level rising, so I started to read:

It was their motto that grabbed her: Veritas, Truth. And wasn't that what gnawed and ate at her deep down: What really was the truth? Were things so black and white and simple as all those at the lay community made it seem? Her mind glanced over the fifteen years her family lived as part of a community of Catholic families. It wasn't the cultic and extreme place that many who misunderstood made it out to be. There was alot of fun, a sense of stability, a sense of knowing what was right and what was wrong.

I read this book sooooooo many times (26 now) before when I received it in the mail during the sufferings of my family life, but today it seemed soooooooooo different, as if it had another meaning or as if I had never REALLY read it before. I did this until the end...

Flushed, perspiring and happy, Sister Maria Amata turned away from the bell rope and began walking toward the monastery. Her veil had slid back and wisps of hair were escaping all over her face. She looked up and saw Sister Maria Bernadette standing at the doorway watching her. Sister Maria Amata stopped in front of the Novice Mistress.
"I rang the Angelus bell."
"So I heard."
She smiled. She took Sister Maria Amata's hand with one hand and with the other began pushing the wisps of hair back under her veil. "Come into the house and get some dinner. I hear Sister Mary Jordan is serving bean stew."

This stress I thought would keep me from smiling all day suddenly disappeared, vanished along with its evilness - and I read the last paragraph of the book with joy and thanking God:

Sister Maria Bernadette put her arm around Sister Maria Amata and led her into the house. It was bright, austere and welcoming. It was peaceful; a place of prayer.

It was home.

THE END