Pope Francis I Floods Family Memories

White smoke billowing from the Sistine Chapel.   The selection of a new Pope floods my memories with thoughts of my Mother. I keep the four visual memories of Mother’s first marriage - to God - in a shadowbox (see picture). 

  

 

My Mother was born in the Netherlands in 1916.  She was the third child born to my maternal grandparents.  She lost her mother, my grandmother, at the age of 4.  My grandmother died in 1920 during the birth of her fourth daughter.  My grandfather could not support the 4 children he had and they were separated throughout the family.  My mother lived with relatives in Belgium. 

She entered the convent as a Postulant at the age of 20.  A Postulant is the name given to a young girl or woman their first year.  It is year of “internship”.  It helps them decide whether this is the life that is right for them.  It gives the postulant the opportunity to live the religious life through personal experience.  It also gives the convent nuns the opportunity to help the Postulants with their decision-making.  A year later, in 1937, sure this was her vocation in life she made the decision of free consent and started her first year as a Novice (a person formally admitted to a religious institute to prepare for eventual religious profession.).

During the ceremony, one of joy and pride, she received her black habit  and white veil.  Nuns have their hair cut during this initiation.  At that time, nuns had to cut their long hair to symbolize relinquishing any vanity they possessed. (see picture of mother’s beautiful long braid)   Today, nuns are free to keep their long hair. They pass through a novitiate (probationary period) of two years.

The third year, 1940, she took her First vows (today also called Temporary vows or Temporary Professed vows).  At that time, her black veil replaced the white one worn during the novitiate period.  (see picture of Mother).  First vows are for five years at which time one takes the Permanent vows (also, Perpetually Professed or Final Profession) as a nun.  She taught kindergarten.  I believe my love for children and teaching comes from my Mother. 

The war broke out in Europe in 1940.  Initially, the one place the Jews fled to, from the Nazis, was the Catholic convents.  When the Nazis finally arrived, they not only captured the Jews but the Nuns too.

My mother spent 2 years in a concentration camp.  The stories she shared with us were filled with horror. The Nazis made them run naked (what greater humiliation for a nun?) through the camp to get their one bowl of soup.  They would then have to run back spilling most of the soup on their return.  The Nazis tortured the nuns as well as the Jews.  The removal of the bone in my Mother’s left-hand wrist proved a constant reminder until the day she passed away.

The first US military soldiers to land in Europe were the Negro units.  Many Europeans, like my Mother's family, will tell you, they did not know there were white Americans until later in the war.  My father's battalion (see previous blog “Remembering a Negro WWII Battalion”) was one of the first to liberate people from the concentration camps.  One of those was my Mother. 

The first night they took refuge in underground bunkers.  A bomb hit the bunker my Father, my Mother and others were in.  My Father's back was broken by the explosion.  The only place one could take American soldiers was the Catholic convent.  My Mother spoke English (actually she spoke 8 languages) and became the translator between my Father and his doctors.  During his recuperation, my parents fell in love.  My Mother said “yes” to my father’s marriage proposal.  She shared her decision to leave her first “marriage” with Mother Superior and left the convent 6 months before she was to take her final vows.

The Sisters gave Mother her missal to keep as a souvenir (see picture).  The rosary in the shadowbox is one Mother had blessed in Rome by Pope Pius XII.  The back of the crucifix lists Rome, Italy.

My parents were married 52 years.