I sometimes go nun-hunting. My kids are friendly with a whole variety of priests, but the only nun they have regular contact with is the principle (or possibly even the principal) of their school, who is a great lady and we love her, but she doesn't wear a habit. Or rather, she wears the habit of the 1970s, polyester knit, so I'm not sure the fact that she's a nun registers in the kids' minds. There are some Italian nuns in full-length habit who attend daily mass at our parish, but my daughter doesn't see them, since school starts at the same time, and she doesn't speak Italian anyway. So this is why I nun-hunt when I'm out with my daughter: nuns are signs to us all that there is more to life than the material.
Last month when I bought my tomato plants at Franciscan Monastery, there were two Missionaries of Charity in line ahead of us, so I took the opportunity to strike up a little chat with them, primarily for my daughter's sake. I kept it light:
Sr, how on earth with the humble work you do do you keep your sari so white?
(And how do they? My whites don't look like that & I have bleach and a washing machine!) "Grace," said she, laughing. And then, not one to miss an opportunity, she took my opening and explained a little to the kids the meaning of her habit, and how Mother Teresa came to choose the Indian sari for her order. Then she turned to my oldest son and said,
I don't know, he laughed, rather nervously.So, do you think you might be a priest when you grow up?
"Better ask Jesus," said she. "We must always ask him what he wants."
So, who was doing the hunting, I ask you?
