SHE ENTERS THE CONVENT

On September 1, 1764, Cavalier Ignatius and his daughter presented themselves at the door of the Convent of St. Theresa in Florence, (now a prison). Its little church, so pure and artistic in its simple lines, rises not far from the Church of St. Ambrogio at Porta alla Croce.

After having exchanged a few words with the portress through the grille, they were shown into the parlor. It was a poor looking room, large and square, with white-washed walls. At one end was an internal window very heavily barred both down and across, behind which hung an impenetrable veil of black cloth.

On the walls hung two oil paintings of the great Reformers: St. Theresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross.

Over the "grilled" window was an old black crucifix; two small notices on either side of it bade you: "Remember that you have only one soul, that you can only die once; you only have a brief span of life, and it is given to you for a purpose, there is only one glory and this is eternal; I would give up many things for this." --- Holy Mother Theresa of Jesus.

"Having to pass your time here and render an account of it, why do you not spend and employ it in the way you would wish to have spent it when your death is at hand?" --- St. John of the Cross.

Anna Mary sat down in silence. Cavalier Ignatius paced up and down the room, looking with unseeing eyes now at the pictures and then at the inscriptions. In vain he tried to pass away the time that seemed to him interminable, and yet he did not wish that it go any faster.

Suddenly, the black veil was pulled aside and the Mother Prioress, after a few words of kindly welcome, told them that all was now in readiness for Anna Mary's ceremonial entry. Father and daughter then left the parlor and wended their way to the entrance of the cloister of the convent. Only a few moments more --- a bell rang sharply from inside --- a shuffling of sandals on stone, a swishing of skirts and a clicking of many rosary beads; all these sounds seemed to be coming nearer and nearer. Finally the heavy door of the enclosure opened and down the long corridor, they caught a glimpse of the Nuns standing in a double row along the walls, clad in their habits of russet brown; their faces were entirely hidden by long black veils which fell down to their bare feet.

A last embrace from her father ... a last blessing, then with rapid steps, the young girl crossed the threshold and entering, passed between the rows of the community.

The humble cloister absorbed her in the gathering twilight, and in the perfect silence, the closing of the outer door could be distinctly heard.

Like a lake whose waters have been ruffled by a sudden breeze, the monastery's peace once more descended calm and solemn, after having welcomed one more soul into its limpid depths.

Anna Mary faced her new Mother, and then knelt at the feet of the Prioress to receive the blessing and to kiss the picture of the Master Whom she had gone to serve within those walls. All the Nuns clustered round and embraced her, showing her their affection in various ways of which, later on, she was to have ample proof. A while later, she found herself in the choir, ready to offer the immolation of herself to Our Lord and the Blessed Virgin. Then she was taken into the enclosed garden of the Novitiate where the young Nuns gave her a warm welcome and loving smiles, as they tried their best to soften the bitterness of the terrible farewell to home and to her loved ones.

A small room was then assigned to her, a cell rather, small and bare, the walls white-washed, the narrow low door of deal painted brown, a white deal table, a woolen mattress on three planks, propped up by a couple of trestles; its sole ornament was a plain black cross with no figure on it. The window of the cell looked out on the convent garden --- it was dusk --- the sounds of the city seemed far away and hardly disturbed the silence and solitude. The stars lingered in the sky and shone with greater brilliance as the night grew darker. Two silences seemed to unite, one of Heaven and the other of earth, weaving a tender harmony and then ... nothing but silence ... and the silence of a Carmelite monastery is absolute.

Anna Mary began to feel the fascination of the place... God was passing in the shadow of that summer night and the invisible Presence animated the praise that ever rose to Heaven from sleeping nature.

The soul of the young girl was insensibly uplifted to the contemplation of God. Far away from the world, in the solitude, a wide desert was forming in her, and the Divine Presence was beginning, even then, to shower graces on her superabundantly.

Contents  Next