Cloister Garden

Until someone looked me in the eyes, listened to my story, and understood me…I would never get better. I would never be healed.

Before I left, I wanted the home visit to be longer. How many friends and family members could I see within a span of 120 hours?

Oh Lord, I need to talk to someone! As a postulant, I usually found the convent’s silence difficult. Today, it seemed impossible.

My brain was hurting again, but in a good way. I was making some brand new wrinkles in it, re-training it to think positively about myself.

That's the source, I realized. The psychological reason for my back pain!

Deep down I knew there must be more to this wound than met the eye. There had to be, or why hadn’t it gotten better after 12 long years?

I didn’t feel the sun’s warmth. My back pain had overwhelmed every other sensation, any other thought. “Please,” I asked her. “I need help.

The morning bell broke the convent's silence with bold, inescapable tones. Ding-ding, ding-ding, ding-ding, ding-ding…