Still Life With Nun

I'm not sure why I feel the need to tell this story.  It has nothing to do with Wicca, it's not a snappy comeback story, and it's not likely to impress, inspire, or inflame anyone.  There are just those little moments in life that stay with you, and sometimes you need to write them down, so indulge me for a moment.  It's brief.

About ten years ago I was living with a boy and a high school friend, in my first apartment in Austin.  That situation went pretty far south on us all, but in the year that we inhabited that two-story townhouse in the scary Riverside neighborhood, I spent way more time at the Greyhound station than any human should, especially at night.  Said boy's family lived in the Dallas/Fort Worth area and he often took the bus up to visit.

One night, the high school friend and I had dropped him off to catch his bus, when a tiny wizened black woman came up to us and asked for a ride.  She was wearing an odd looking plain blue-grey dress, and had a sweet, almost beatific smile. 

I had not yet learned to be afraid of strangers, and I wasn't alone, so I asked where she was headed--it turned out, not far from our part of town, on the East Side.  I had also not been in Austin long enough to be uneasy driving through the East Side at night, so I agreed to take her.

I don't remember much of our conversation on the way south, but during the course of the trip I found out she was a nun, in town to visit a relative who was dying of cancer. She had a soft voice and positively radiated peace, and carried a rosary that trailed out of her pocket.  When we reached her destination, a dilapidated old house with no lights on, I was a bit concerned about leaving her there but she assured me that she was expected, and Jesus would take care of her in any case.  She pulled out a wrinkled, age-worn five-dollar bill and tried to give it to me in return for the ride, but I wouldn't take her money. 

"Well," she asked, "would you let me say a prayer for you, then?"

Who on earth could say no to such an offer?  She took my hand, bowed her head, and asked her Lord to bless the "sweet precious angels who took care of me tonight," and asked that we be blessed in all our travels, and that Jesus keep watch over us, amen.

Then, she was gone; I watched her walk slowly up the driveway and disappear into the old house before I would drive off.  I looked over at my friend in the back seat.  Neither of us seemed to know what to say.  The whole trip home I kept staring at the hand she'd held, as if I'd been touched by a ghost.

It's an odd experience to feel the need to relate here in a blog.  I don't know why it's stayed with me for so long, wrapped up in the cloth of time and stored away in a box that holds the few genuinely good memories of that part of my life.  For some reason, that sweet old nun has been on my mind a lot lately.  I hope she stayed safe, and that her God took good care of her, and still is if she's still alive.  I don't even remember her name.  The cynic in me keeps insisting that the woman probably wasn't a real nun, or that her story was bogus, but really, who cares?  It was a moment of beauty in my life, and I'm grateful for it.

And if Jesus really is watching over me, I'm grateful for that too, as long as he's not watching me in the shower.

Comments

[Luna]

Hi, I thank you for sharing this story. I'd say this person was sort of a guide. Even if in the timeline she appeared in it doesn't seem so, the fact that her story continues to stand out for you is important.
When I was a little girl attending Catholic school, I had to leave church one morning because the incense was making me sick. I sat outside on a very sunny doorway; it was very quiet and deserted. out of nowhere, an old woman in a trenchcoat came up to me and said, "Just pray to the Virgin, and everything will be alright." i was slightly embarrassed and looked down for a split second. I looked up and she was gone. Like you, I don't know what meaning I'm supposed to take from this (aside from giving the Maiden her due), but the story sticks with me as a sign of something, some kind of validation.

[Anna]

What a lovely story! What freaked me out a bit was that I just yesterday started to think about such a memory fragment too. Those people you meet everyday but never really see. For me it was this guy that I worked (not closley) with for 4 years. I remember him asking about my pentagram once and I rambled a bit about witchcraft. then on my graduation several years later he brought me this tiny book he found at a second hand store aboutthe burning-times in Europe. Just because he remembered me being wiccan. That really touched my heart. Today I have no idea where he is or what he is doing, which I regret.

[Cynthia]

Personally I think she was an angel... I don't know if you believe in them, I sure didn't. But when I started working with the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram I met the angels and it changed how I feel about them.

And that is what I think she was.

[Cynthia]

Personally I think she was an angel... I don't know if you believe in them, I sure didn't. But when I started working with the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram I met the angels and it changed how I feel about them.

And that is what I think she was.

[Melissa]

I think that there are people that come into our lives to teach us profound lessons in a subtle way. They can be a friend, stranger, coworker, anyone.

Those people who have devoted their lives to the Divine have a different understanding of the world and they can put things into a different perspective. Learning the beliefs of others can definitely help us figure out what we believe in ourselves.

[mahala]

Actually, it sounds to me like she was a real nun, in the original definition, with a true power of goodwill.

I was attending an Episcopal funeral some years back. As the priest blessed the wine it took on the most brilliant glow. Taught me a lesson I badly needed at the time: the people, not the religion, are the conduits of gods.

But yeah, I have to agree about Jesus and the shower.

[Danmara]

Beautiful story. Just beautiful. :)

Every once in a while, someone comes into our lives who will change us forever. They rarely stay long...just long enough to touch our lives, and then they're gone...

Those memories are the most beautiful, I think. Ghost like and unspoiled.

[Sara]

I'm down with believing that she was an angel, according to my definition of that term (which does not involve anything teal or peach colored, remarkably). I'm also down with just believing that she was a delightful nun lady that was in your life for a brief moment and touched you with something ineffable that has stayed with you. Either way, it's beautiful. And reminds me of a handful of wonderful Austin stories of my own. Seems to me that there are a lot of disguised "angels" running around that city...

-S

[Jax]

An odd-looking blue-grey dress on a little old lady traveling by bus...yep, all signs point to nun. What a beautiful woman you were privileged to meet!

(A twelve-year Catholic school survivor, I can pick nuns out of a crowd every time, no matter what outfit they've got on...)

[Karen]

There doesn't have to be a point--it was a beautiful moment. And the retelling has made me teary.

[lactose intolerant lisa]

That is a beautiful, evocative story, and I'm glad I got the chance to read it.

[Patricia]

Thanks for sharing this story. It's obviously touched you deeply for a long time, and now it's touched others as well.