Most of us, as we look back and think about our vocation story, will find that the desire to become a religious started in the early years. For me, it was around seventh grade when I became serious about what I was going to do with my life. I felt drawn to religious life and especially to be a missionary. When I went to High School, I chose First Year Spanish because of my missionary desire. The Sisters of Christian Charity had been my teachers from first grade through tenth grade. In my senior year I asked one of them to help me in writing my letter asking for permission to enter as a candidate. The first thing Sister said was that they are not a mission order and I should consider a different community. My response was: If God wants me on the missions I will get there!
I did enter, but this desire to be a missionary never left me. I offered my Final Vows in 1964 and left shortly after that on the night train for our North Carolina mission, teaching and working with the poor. While I was there I received a phone call from the Provincial asking me if I still wanted to go to the missions (meaning our South American Province in Uruguay/Argentina). Without hesitation I said, yes! I was ready to go and my prediction to the Sister who doubted I’d get to the missions came true! Immediate preparation began: within 3 days my trunk was sent off to our motherhouse in Mendham, NJ. I first had to get travel vaccinations, and then within 5 days I was on the night train heading back to Mendham. That was a trip to remember; it was war time and the train was filled with sailors, soldiers, marines all passing by me, walking up and down the aisles, all saying “hello” and “please pray for me,” (which I do to this day.)
One other Sister was chosen to travel to Uruguay with me, Sr. Maria Nicholson. Our trunks were sent by cargo ship and when they landed we found out that what they “robbed” from my trunk, they left in hers. The boots from her trunk, they left in mine. Blankets from one and towels from the other, etc. – all gone!
When I arrived to Uruguay, I immediately felt right at home, feeling the charism and spirit of our Foundress Mother Pauline. I taught in Spanish at our very poor school called Escuela Madre Paulina. Though I was in a Catholic School, the state would not accept my teaching degree so I could not teach in the 5th or 6th grade. Instead I taught 3rd and 4th grade in Spanish. I loved it! The parents would say to me, “You teach in Spanish with a Bronx accent.”
With very little financial resources, we had lots of work to do. To help the families get ahead, we connected with the United States Ambassador to Uruguay and submitted a plan for the purchase of 6 machines for the mothers to do weaving and to make other homemade items. There were many other fulfilling happenings, so many other ways we were able to reach the children, little sacrifices, all done for the sake of the MISSION. My classroom, a one room cinder block, was outside. And even though Uruguay doesn’t get extremely cold in the winter, the dampness was so bad, I taught with my coat and gloves on. The children did the same. There were no radiators in La Casa Madre, being built Spanish style. It had an open patio so the dampness came right in. The Sisters knew that most North American Sisters are not used to not having heat in the house. They were so kind to me, that when I went to bed, I had a hot brick with a towel wrapped around it for my feet. The kindness we experienced during those years was overwhelming! Sometimes I think the less one has, the happier you are.
We Sisters had many laughs also. The Sisters would love to “pick” on me: French sheets and pajama sleeves sewed up during the damp weather, the next morning at breakfast asking if I had a good night’s sleep. We had fun!
The difficult part for me was that I was there before communication was set up. Mail straggled in or was “lost.” These were also dangerous times, with revolts, rebellions against the government, Tupamaros, etc. I rarely heard from Mendham, and we couldn’t phone home. Only once we were able to connect via “ham radio.” Despite all of the difficulties, I loved every minute of it.
I eventually returned to Mendham because my mom was ill with cancer and she needed my help. What I will never forget is the invitation I received, before I left Uruguay, from one of the parents for lunch at her home. The couple had four children, and lived under a water tower. They were so happy I was coming to their home. They had one big bed for all six of them, which is where they sat when I came to visit. They only had one chair, “that was for Sister to sit in.” As I looked at the shelves nailed to the walls, I saw the cleanest newspapers folded with a few dishes on top. The mother had saved up money to buy one large bottle of coke and some cookies for me. She was so proud of her home and her children. All I could think of was how much this cost her, bought with the “widow’s mite” as the Gospel says.
I have wonderful memories of my time in Uruguay which I cherish. I wouldn’t trade those 9 wonderful years for anything, and I thank God every day for the gift of my religious vocation. I will always be grateful for my time spent in Uruguay!