LifeStory: Entering the Monastery

The big day finally dawned, it felt so long in the coming.

My mother decided the big occasion warranted a flight there.

The bigger town where the monastery was situated.

Until then, I had traveled mostly by cargo ship.

It would be my first and last flight, so my mother thought.

So did I think at the time.

A small group of parishioners were already gathered when I arrived with my sister, Mary.

My second sister, Lily, was there also, together with the tall English priest, Father Harry.

I knew the routine.

I knelt for the blessing of the priest.

He knocked on the big solid wooden door.

The door opened to reveal two rows of nuns, dressed in the dark brown habit,

veils covering their entire faces.

It looked very solemn and felt very solemn.

The priest held a crucifix for me to kiss.

I kissed it then entered inside.

Instantly, the nuns uncovered their faces and started welcoming me into their midst.

Arms wrapped themselves around me, some giving me some solid thumps on my back.

I felt very awkward, grateful for the bag of things my sister Lily gave me.

It provided me with some buffer from those big hugs and embraces.

For we Chinese, do not hug and do not embrace.

Much to my regret, a young nun relieved me of my bag.

My protection against the enthusiastic welcomes.

Then the mother prioress led me to the chapel, to greet Jesus.

A Spanish nun and long legged, she flew down the corridor, leading to the chapel.

I hurried behind her.

Then it was time to slip into my postulant dress and meet those well wishes at the parlor.

My sisters were there. 

Most of the people present were more interested in the nuns.

It is not often they get the opportunity to see them.

Lily reminded me again, "Remember, you have to eat everything given to you."

Next was the refectory.

I was shown to my table.

On it was a spread of food.

A big loaf of bread, a bowl of soup, a big plate of rice, a plate with some fish and vegetables plus a small plate of dessert. 

I looked at the spread and wondered how I was going to eat it all.

But I did as my sister Lily advised.

She would know better.

She had entered the convent of the Franciscan sister and was a novice there.

I ate everything.

The same young nun who took my bag came in,

saw my table cleaned of all food and her eyes widened in surprise.

Later, very discreetly, she told me, the bread was mostly for the Spanish sister.

There was no need to finish that up. 

That was most helpful.