antibiotics.
She was lucky. The infection had been checked. Two things became certain: She would live, and she would feel more guilty than she ever had or ever would again.
The doctor, as he was required by law, reported the illegal abortion. Marie’s parents, hesitant at first, now, miraculously, supported her. They contacted an attorney, who advised her, and answered her questions. Apprised of her right to remain silent, she refused to tell the police the name of anyone involved in the abortion, including the abortionist, and especially Alice. With no testamentary evidence, the police had no recourse but to file the case away with the hundreds of other unsolved abortion crimes.
All loose ends were now tied, except for the sorry state of her immortal soul. For the first time, she was deathly afraid of going to confession. But, as a Catholic, there was no alternative. Not if she wished to regain the state of Sanctifying Grace.
She confessed having an abortion. She was dumbfounded when the voice of the unseen priest asked if she knew there was a special penalty attached to this grave sin. She knew of no extra penalty; wasn’t one of the worst of all possible mortal sins enough? Since she had not known that the penalty of automatic excommunication was attached to those who have, procure, perform, or assist at abortions, she did not now incur the sanction. It was one of those rare cases when ignorance was a shield.
She had expected this confession to be torturous; the confessor did not disappoint her. After excoriating her, he imposed as penance that she recite the rosary every day for a month. Before absolving her, however, he had one more admonition. He said, and she would never forget his words: “Young lady, I cannot make this part of your penance, but if I could I would. You should go off to a convent and become a nun. You should give up forever every pleasure of the flesh, legitimate or not. You should expiate this terrible sin for the rest of your life.”
Only then did he absolve her. She was so shocked by his admonition, she didn’t even remember reciting the Act of Contrition.
She talked that one over with Alice. It was Alice’s opinion that, with all due reverence, her confessor was an ass.
But his words had touched something deep inside her, something she had never before consciously considered. It was difficult for her to understand, let alone explain. It was as if she were destined to be a concert artist but had never taken a piano lesson.
The priest had advised her to become a nun to do penance for her sin-a completely negative motivation. But seriously considering the vocation for the first time, she found herself more and more naturally called to it.
There was one special nun who had taught Marie in that particularly difficult senior year, to whom she felt very close. They talked frequently now and at great length. Alone among all the Sisters who had taught her, Sister Marian Joseph, IHM, had seen beneath and beyond the “wildness” that was so natural to Marie, the especial qualities, the potential for an intense spiritual life. Sister Marian Joseph deeply believed that Marie would make an excellent religious. In fact, Sister was convinced that if Marie did not become a nun, she would have completely missed her genuine life’s vehicle.
In one of their final conversations before Marie graduated, Sister Marian Joseph said, “Marie, this is the perfect time for you to enter. There’s a new breed postulant now who thinks, evaluates, and exercises more common sense than we dared to. And you’d fit right in.”
“New breed? I’m not sure. .”
“Let me put it this way, Marie. When we entered, we wanted-most of us desperately wanted-to become nuns so badly, we’d do anything we were told or expected to do to reach the goal. So some odd things-odd now in retrospect-happened.”
“Odd?”
“I can remember, though it was a long time ago, lots of things that happened in the mother house in Monroe that were weird-by today’s lights.”
“Such as?”
“Oh, in the refectory-the dining hall-we had ‘virtue boxes.’”
“Huh? Boxes with virtues in them?”
“I told you this was odd. No, boxes that held small pieces of paper on which were written virtuous deeds or actions. When you entered the refectory, you took one of the slips from the box and carried out whatever virtuous action was written on it.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“Oh, for instance, you might pull out a slip that said, ‘Abstain from meat during this meal.’”
“And you wouldn’t eat meat? But what if that were the only main course?”
“Then you went hungry-or ate a lot of potatoes. But we were young and some of us were mischievous-not unlike yourself, Marie. I remember one time some of us ‘loaded’ the virtue boxes so that all the slips read, ‘Take your supper on the floor.’”
Marie began to giggle. “And the refectory was filled with nuns sitting on the floor, eating?”
Sister Marian laughed at the memory. “Then we had responsibilities-we called them ‘charges.’ One time my charge was to clean the lower cloister with its tile floor and brick walls. And I was cleaning it, sweeping the floor, when an older nun was passing through. She took the broom from me and said, ‘Why are you sweeping it that way? You must sweep it this way.’ And so, without another word, I did it her way.
“I wanted to be a nun so badly that I didn’t want to make waves. It was easier, a more direct route to becoming a professed sister, to bury your intelligence, your common sense and go along than to challenge the system. And if you stepped out of line, exercised your own personality, you were likely to hear from a superior, ‘Did you come to join the convent or to change it?’
“Marie, we’re right on the verge of the Second Vatican Council. I feel certain there will be radical changes. I can’t foretell what they’ll be, but they’re coming. The Sisters of today and tomorrow are in the best position to react to these changes. I’ve watched you carefully, Marie. You are perfect for the changing religious life. That’s why I was so delighted when you came to me to talk about it.”
This was what she wanted to hear. Not the negative denunciation in the confessional, but the positive recognition and motivation from a nun she respected.
So Marie made application to the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. She mentioned to neither Sister Marian Joseph nor the screening board in Monroe the tragedy of her abortion. The hearty and undiluted recommendation of Sister Marian Joseph, a Sister well respected in the community, won Marie admission as a postulant.
She found convent life much as Sister Marian had described it, except for community life. No one could have adequately described that. It had to be experienced. As dear and complete as had been her friendship with Alice, that was now only a most pleasant memory. Her religious Sisters became her real sisters.
She went through her postulancy, her novitiate, took her interim vows, then final vows. Then came the various “missions,” one of which was to Marygrove, where she and Sister Janet, whom she had known at the mother house, were again classmates.
Sister Marian Joseph also proved to be a prophet. Yet even she could not have foreseen all the accomplishments of Vatican II. But she was correct in assuming the Council would shake things up in a virtually unprecedented way. And, of all groups in the Catholic Church, nuns were foremost in studying and making practical the documents of the Council. No sooner did the bishops assembled in Rome publish a document than it was devoured by the Sisters. And among the forefront of these was Sister Mary Ambrose, the former Marie Monahan. Mary Ambrose was the religious name Marie had chosen. However, a few years later and as one result of the Council, many of the nuns reverted to their original names. By the time she had entered the religious education field and written her book, she long had been known as Sister Marie Monahan, IHM.
After the considerable success of
From time to time, though less and less frequently as the years passed, she would relive the abortion. Whenever it came to mind, always unbidden, she would wince and reexperience her grief that it had ever happened,
