Wednesday, December 17, 2008

The "Walking Sisters" Leaving Their Home

The Roman Catholic Order of nuns known as the Sisters of Mercy (RSM) are closing their 146-year-old convent in Brooklyn. The leadership of the Order decided that the $20 million price of fixing the structural and accessibility issues wasn't worth it for the 38 nuns living there.

One of the major ministries of the Convent had been an orphanage.
Thousands of children came to live with the sisters over the decades. Rather than fend for themselves as ragamuffins, they lived in tidy dormitories, supervised by two nuns and a helper. In the chapel, an ornate sanctuary of stained glass and gleaming marble, the youngest had a place of honor at the front, sitting in pews that were smaller than the rest. ...

The order’s leadership realized in the last few years that the old building presented too many obstacles for older women. An engineering study in February recommended extensive exterior renovations, removal of asbestos and rebuilding the foundation. Sister Christine McCann, the president for the region that includes the convent, said the millions of dollars needed for repairs could be better used to finance social and educational work by the order, which still has about 4,000 nuns in the United States. (source)


I've run into this order a few times over the years and always been impressed with them. These are some tough, religious ladies!

They've been leaving one-by-one or in small groups as they've been stationed in new houses or nursing homes. They've developed an interesting ritual for their departures.
By midafternoon, the remaining nuns and their guests had gathered in a circle to say goodbye to Sister Marguerite Relihan, who was moving the next day to Hartsdale, in Westchester County. The mood was subdued, with a gentle sadness in the air. They prayed for one another, and for those outside their convent who had neither home nor hope. At the end, Sister McCann dabbed holy water on Sister Marguerite’s forehead, whispered into her ear and hugged her.

“Dwell secure in his love in your new home,” the group intoned.

And out of the gathering, a voice arose.

“Marguerite!” someone said with a chuckle. “Hold on to my room until I get there.” (source)


God bless 'em. 146 years is a ripe old age for any human endeavor to reach.

-t

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