Seigneur, Venez nous sauver!

Lord, Come and save us!

Every now and then I get a blast from the past. Yesterday, it was finding my French prayer book. It took me back...way back to French class at Gwynedd Mercy Academy in Gwynedd Valley, PA. I can see the face of the nun who taught the class in my memory even though I can't remember her name. Obviously, she wasn't one of my favorites because, I can still recall the advisor to the school paper, Sr. Joanna; the librarian, Sr. Borromeo; my math teacher, Sr. Mary Jean; the stern principal who taught speech, Sr. Marion Rita; and the nun who directed the plays, Sr. Jeanne Marie. How I loved Sr. Mary Jean and Sr. Jeanne Marie!

I remember my high school years with a smile, unlike my four years at Trinity College. I shudder when I think of that school which was already losing its Catholic identity and scandalizing students. They robbed many of the faith with modernist claptrap from people like Joseph Fletcher with his situation ethics. They idolized graduate, Nancy Pelosi, and other liberal Democrat grads like Kathleen Sebelius, Barbara Kennelly, and Marggie Williams, Hillary Clinton's chief of staff during Bill's first term. 

But Mercy was still faithful when I was there, although I wouldn't trust the Sisters of Mercy today with one of my own grandchildren. But in the mid 1960s the nuns I was drawn to were models of the Catholic life. There was also an elementary school on the other side of the building but we had no interaction with the younger children, although some of my classmates attended Mercy from Kindergarten. Actually, it would have been interesting to have the high school do some events with the younger students, so close but yet so far.

I only spent three years at Mercy because my dad, a Navy captain at the time, was transferred to Baltimore as plant rep to Westinghouse at Friendship Airport, now BWI. But they were a joyful interlude in my life.

Thinking about Mercy this morning makes me realize how important the formative years are and how much we are "formed" by the "heroes" in our lives. I want to resemble those dear nuns and thinking of them points me back even further to my 8th grade teacher, Sr. Germella at Our Lady of Mount Carmel in Doylestown, PA. Of all my teachers, I will remember her most fondly. Thank you, dear Sister, please pray for me.

I think most of my mentors are gone now. Today I'm offering my rosaries for the repose of their souls in gratitude for the example of the faith they gave me. May they all rest in peace enjoying the reward of their faithful, faith-filled service. And may I follow in their footsteps.

Merci beaucoup, chères sœurs du Seigneur.