THE EVOLUTION OF A VOCATION

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXVII, Issue 15, 15 April 1909, Page 563

THE EVOLUTION OF A VOCATION

'Do you mean to -tell me, Mrs. Alexander, that we are really going to have nuns in the Church of England? Well, well, what next ?' The lady addressed lowered the Christian Witness from which she had been reading an account of the reception of a Sister into one of the first- Anglican communities ■founded in this country, and surveyed her friend over her glasses, a look of righteous indignation oiyfier face. It was evident that there was going to be a lengthy discussion, and Mildred Delano, the sixteen-year-old niece of the reader, waited to hear no more. She had listened to the description with eager interest, and she wished to think about the matter while the two fervent Episcopalians were lamenting the Romish propensities which were tending to the degeneracy of their Church. She put aside the book which she held and slipped, out on. to the - broad portico to think quietly. In the beautiful moonlight the shadows of the evergreen cast fantastic figures on the lawn, and * the tinkle of the little fountain close by was soft and soothing. A dark form was coming up the winding path, and she ran to meet it, exclaiming, ' O Jack, did you come to bring me home ? ' ' I did, but shall I not go in for a little while ?' ' No. Aunt Sarah is entertaining Mrs. James : and;-.. they are lamenting the degenerate state of the Church"?" I could not stand it, and neither could you. But I must • tell you the source of their grief —something Aunt SaraE" - read from the Christian Witness a few minutes ago. Nq2^ thing ever made me think so much before in so brief a time.' And with all the enthusiasm of her .girlish heart Mildred reproduced for her brother the description of the Anglican, nun's reception, and confided to him the ambition that paragraph had awakened. John Delano had come up from New York to spend his summer vacation in the little town of his birth. Possessed of a deeply religions temperament, he was giving all his earnestness to a fitting preparation for the ministry. The young are naturally less conservative than the old; so, while the venerable elders gravely-shook their heads and prophesied sad consequences': rof the Roman customs which were being gradually adopted by the Church of England, he and his sister" hailed them as harbingers, of good things in which they were to have a part. They walked up and down the quaint old streets where the shades of majestic elms were outlined in the mellow moonlight, and they looked far ahead into the future and dreamed as only the young can dream. Arm in arm now, they would go hand in hand through life, they promised each other. A Rocky Mountain mission seemed a worthy ambition. They would found one together, and there they would live the ideaj life of which they were, dreaming, and serve God as they longed to serve Him. When thed had entered their home Mildred seated herself with pencil and paper to sketch the. log house which was to be their mission centre, and was to contain a chapel and a home for her brother and herself. Around it she grouped a hospital, a school, and an orphanage, then paused to wonder what should come next. John, meanwhile, had seated himself at the piano and was softly playing selections from Hymns, Ancient and Modern — music which was new in the Episcopal Church at this time, and beautiful enouglij^-jbo awaken the enthusiasm of the Oxford Party. ' Holy, holy, holy,' rang out the clear baritone in quick, yet reverent notes. 0 Jack, that is too fast,'-said-Mildred, advancing to lay her hand on his shoulder. ' Not a bit/ said her brother; ' now listen.' - He turned to the old missionary hymn, ' From Greenland's icy mountains,' and sang.it slowly through, playing an interlude between the stanzas; then repeated the entire hymn in quick, spirited fashion without interlude, ending with Amen. 'That is better, I admit,' said Mildred, as she turned to greet her mother who had entered the room. She seated herself at the table beside her and said in earnest, impetuous fashion: " . ' Mother, I want to "be a nun! > May I?' Mrs. Delano was never astonished by Mildred's questions. She took up her knitting and finished out the needle before she answered: ' No, you may not 1c a nun. Do not speak of it again. You may go over' to the church, now to get tKe*^ surplice which should be laundered before next Sunday. Mildred's only reply to her mother's refusal to grant the permission she requested was a slight grimace, She\

lose obediently to go in search of the surplice . Come * with me, Jack,' she^sal^i . - ■ * Hand in hand the brother and sister went, out to the * little *Episcopal church next door. Mildred was suftlciently familiar with the place to be able to find the sur- ' \ plice in the moonlight, and Jack seated himself at the c organ while she went to the sacristy in search of it. The c youth struck a few minor- chords and improvised a plaintive melody. Then voice and organ swelled in the ' Mise- * rere,' "When his sister joined him she knelt ; and all the " fervor of two young hearts was poured forth while their reverent tones filled the little church with pathetic, ear- * nest prayer. _ . ~ . ~ • I 'Sprinkle me with hyssop and I shall- be clean; -wash •*} me and I shall be whiter than, snow.' 1 'We must first conquer the Indians that are within } ourselves, Milly dear,' the brother said as they went home | together; 'and if we- have patience and do ihat well,, all l the rest will come. The brother returned next day to the theological j seminary, and the sister resumed lier ordinary duties with a slight sense of relief that no heroic sacrifice was demanded of her as yet. She was ease-loving by nature and there seemed to be no present reason why she should not indulge- in all that it craved. If, as occasionally happened, the longing for higher things grew so intense as to be troublesome, she would try to triumph over conscience by assuring herself that since her mother had forbidden her to talk of entering a Sisterhood, there was nothing better to be done than to make tlie most of the charming country life, to entertain and be entertained by congenial friends, and to give to the little Episcopal church next door such service as it required. So she made herself a dainty little housekeeper, and filled any leisure -that remained with desultory reading. Ordinarily, when conscience was stirred it was due to • a letter from Jack — Jack was so terribly in earnest. But - perhaps Mildred's letters were not quite satisfactory to ;■ him, for as the months wore on his religious enthusiasm found freer vent in his letters to his mother. She treasured these letters as only mothers can treasure the epistles of the boy who is closest'to their hearts, and she did not - . always share them, even with her daughter. Thus it hap- '_ • pened that Mildred was quite unprepared foT the news she was to receive when her mother called her from the lawn where she was enjoying* a novel while revelling in the delights of a perfect autumn day. The odor of ripened fruit ,the singing of birds, the chirping of insects were , thereafter associated in her mind with the event of that hour. "When Mildred had obeyed the unwelcome summons she found her mother bowed over an open letter in her brother's handwriting, weeping -with uncontrollable grief. Mildred could recall having seen lier mother weep but once before in her life. That had been when she had come from a neighboring town where she had seen a poor-". , widow with six little children suffering for want both of.-'- - bread and of fire — a thing happily unknown in her own prosperous little village. ' Mother ! ' gasped Mildred. Was her brother dead ? No, for tliere was his letter. The mother pointed to it, unable to speak. Mildred took it up and read: 'My dear Mother, — I have "before me to-day the hardest task I eyer had, one the very thought of which has taken the life all out of me for the past two months. It is to tell you that I was this inorriing received into the Roman Catholic Church". God knows how I have prayed, and do pray, that He" will soften the grief to you. You know how from a chiid I have liad an instinctive longing for the Catholic Church; but you do not know how I have struggled and fought down that longing. I made a vow* some time ago that -nothing bvit the conviction that I could not otherwise be saved would make me leave the Anglican Church for Rome. I never went near Catholic churches, never saw Catholics, priests or lay; but the difficulties I had put away were only growing steadily. Against my own will I have had to do what I have done, or have a bad conscience for the rest of my life. It is a relief to be rid of my only secret from you— though I know how much it will grieve the dear ones at home. ' Lovingly your only son, 1 JOHN.' Mildred was at first too, stunned to speak, but her mother's grief aroused her from her stupefaction. She put her. arms around, her and tried to soothe her with caresses and loving words. ' Do' not grieve so, dearest. We know that our Jack would do nothing.b ut what lie thought was, right. Who rt knows but,. what he may be as nearly" right as we are?' ' Mildred ! ' said her mother in a tone of stern reproof. { Well,' said Mildred doubtfully, ' when I told our rector a short time ago that I believe Our Lord is pre- . sent in the Blessed Sacrament, he asked me for my authority; and I could not answer him, I beard him

admit that he had always felt a great drawing towards the Church of Rome, and that he never allowed himself to read any woiks of controversy Jest his peace, should be disturbed. I cannot see why we should- fear to look at both sides, if we are certain that we, are in the right. I do not like the idea of looking at- ,lmt one side .of i -question.' - "_ -r\- "" ■ '"Am I to lose both" my children?' wailed "the -poor,' mother. And Mildred pub. her arms around- her and kissed and comforted her " as best ' she could: - - " . . The long loving letters which came to her from her^ boy did much to soothe the mother's grief, and time, the great .consoler, helped with the- work; but it was different with Mildred/ ' She had taken the" change more philosophically in, the _ beginning, .but ■as "the months, and* years wore on Jt was she. who suffered most. She had always"' looked -to her brother for guidance^ aaid she was like- a . ship without a rudder now that "she could no longer ..apply to him for direction. She lost her cheerfulness- and .went about^ her ordinary -duties so .listlessly tltat her mother became -seriously alarmed. _ _ -_ . . - The girl was seated "on the'portico alone one evening, when the rector came to call. Noting her dejected attitude, he seated himself beside her, asking, ' What is the matter. Miss Mildred ?" ' __>--" 'There is nothing the matter, thank you; I am quite well.' . . .- ' Are you grieving over your brother's delinquency ? ' 'Not at all,' said Mildred proudly." "'' John is thoroughly conscientious, and I should be sorry to object - to his following- his conscience. -I know there are people in this village,' she addeH with a touch of bitterness, " wlio would be glad to revive Puritan methods and force - all to revolve within their two-inch limit.' ' I am not" one of them,' said the rector gently. ' I know it,' replied Mildred, somewhat softened by the ready sympathy. lam not quite sure I know •, what the matter is with me, Mr. Richards. _ Nothing interests me, and life no longer 'seems worth while.' There was silence for a few moments, and then the - girl continued: - ■ ' I wanted to go to Baltimore to try working with .'our Sisters there, but mother objects. Of course I could* not leave here -unless" she were willing now.' .Would she object to a compromise? ' asked the rector. ' I have been thinking for some time of the great need of trained nxfrses which exists in this diocese. It is usually impossible- to obtain even a very poor nurse. Now, if you were to enter a training school in one of our largo cities and take a thorough course', you might perhaps be able to satisfy your religious longings a little later by founding sin Order of nursing Sisters who would be prepared to care for the sick in their own .homes at the call of ' the Bishop. I can think of no more 'useful life . for _ - women or of one. that would be more pleasing to Him _ commanded His apostles to heal the sick.' v V. • Mildred, had brightened perceptibly- while the rector : "-talked. -" She was now an entirely "'different person ;n__ appearance as well as in mental ' attitude- from the girl of half an hour ago. - -_-""" ' My life would be perfectly happy- if I could do that,' she said gently. ' - '.Well, think of- it, and pray for light. lam going in to have a talk with your parents now,' and the rector sought the little sitting-room where he was quite at home, leaving Mildred to think" and pray and dream in the oldtime fashion. .Only Jack could not share her life now! The subject was not mentioned- J» her by her parents that evening, and much, as Mildred longed to discuss ib ' she could not bear to wound them by broaching it. But ..she had not long to wait. Her mother joined her the next day in her favorite .retreat in tlie orchard, and after a little desultory conversation asked. ' ' Are you anxious to leave home, dear, to carry out * the rector's plan?' ' Mother! ' gasped .Mildred, springing" to^ her feet. 'Then you, may go,' the mother said quietly. And Mildred sobbed out her thanks in 'her mother's jirms. O incomparable deptlis of mother's love ! "--Mildred felt its full force in the convulsive sobs her mother could not suppress as she clasped her in h«r arms on the morning of her departure. It was very hard ,to go," and only pride prevented her from abandoning her project. She sjiad- overheard, lier father attempting to console her mother. He had said: ' Don't be troubled. It is only one of Milly's whims. . She will be back in a month and more satisfied than ever before to remain in the dear home nest.' But, save for an occasional vacation, Mildred was never to know the. dear old home again.

It was twilight in the old pavilion of one of our large city hospitals. Mildred had just been left on duty alone.She stopd at Qne end of the long ward and looked down

the rows of white beds .with mingled feelinigs of exultation of the responsibility and fear lest somethinig should go wrong while the .other nurses were over at the Nurses' Home. At the opposite end of the ward the convalescents and scrubbers were taking their sujJper. - Suddenly a loud, stern voice echoed through the ward : ' ~ 'Go and do penance for your sin.' ■ A tall, gaunt form stood 'near the supper table for a moment, then moved towards the end of the ward, where she stood as if petrified. • It was as if John the Baptist had entered the room. Seeing that she was somewhat alarmed the priest Bmiled reassuringly, then remarked : 'I hear that you have a Jesuit brother, nurse.' Mildred bowed. ' Why are you not a Catholic ? ' ' It would break my , mother's heart were I to become one, Father.' v ' Well, one of us is in the right and the other in the wrong,' and, bowing his. good evening, he passed out of the pavilion. Mildred approached one o£ the patients. ' Who is he ? ' she asked. 'Father Sullivan. 'He comes here every day. He told the scrubber to do ponance_ because he heard him curse.' Mildred could --not understand why the incident impressed her so deeply. A day or two later news came from home that the rector of their church had died suddenly. It was a... severe blow. For the second time she had lost her guide. Why should she go on ? No one else understood her aim, no one else would he interested in her work. She would give it all up and go back to mother and home. But this was aiot as simple a matter as it seemed. . She had signed an agreement promising to remain two years in the school, and the ladies in charge were not disposed to release her from her obligation. It seemed that she was in honor bound,, to remain, so remain she did. - - The years of hospital training ended, the day canw wlien the diploma that once she coveted was hers. She no longer valued it for itself, but she felt that the years of discipline ~had been useful, so she did not regret them. Her mother was dead now, her place had been filled in "the" home, and there was no reason why she should not join , the Sisterhood of which she had once longed to become a member. She made the necessary arrangements. During the evening of her last night at the training school many of the nurses gathered in her room for a farewell chat. At length all were gone, and Mildred was free to retire. She carefully excluded all light from the room and prepared for sleep with a tranquil heart. She was pleased now that she had stayed, more pleased still that it Avas all over, and that she would leave it all:for ever to-morrow. - ~ Mildred never knew how long she had slept when she was suddenly awakened by the feeling that there was some unknown presence in the room. She tried to shake off the feeling. She raised herself on her elbow and peered into the darkness. Yes, there in the centre of the room "was a luminous figure which seemed as if it were formed of mist or hoar frost. It wore a full white garment with a cincture around the waist, and the arms were extended before it. She sank back on her pillow and hid her face *" with her hands in her terror. When she again looked she was relieved to find that it was gone. What could ib mean? The next day brought her an unexpected guest — her Aunt Alexander from .her old home. Mildred was rejoiced to be able to talk to some one who had known the rector. She ,told her the story of- her visitation of the previous night. 'My dear,' replied the good lady impressively, ' you ■ are not the only one who has seen the rector. You know that Mary Rosa was to have entered a Protestant community a few weeks ago ? ' Mildred bowed. * The rector appeared to her. three times, each time in broad daylight and holding an inverted chalice in his hands. Mary tvent^ to your brother .to -ask for an interpretation of the apparition. Father John says that Mr. Richards wished to tell her that" there is no consecration, - no spiritual life, in the Church of England. I never thought much of,, those Sisterhoods, but Mary has gone from the frying pan into the fire. She* has become a Catholic and entered the Ladies of the Sacred Heart.'

' Yes,' "said Mildred quietly, ' and •so will I.' — The Magnificat.