Mother Superior smiled. “I called your name three times.”
“I was caught in gratitude, Reverend Mother. In prayer and thanks.”
“I thought so, child. There are none more grateful for their position here than you.”
“Thank you.”
“Come, child. You have visitors.”
“I do?” Maria asked, confused. Maria had no family—none but the family of the church.
“They have come especially to see you.”
Maria dutifully followed Sister Theresa, her Mother Superior, down the hallway that led to Father Quinn’s office and the education room. Head down and hands clasped, Maria tried to focus on God and Jesus as the custody of the eyes required, but her head was too busy with questions of who could be there to see her.
Maria’s questions were answered when the door to Father Quinn’s office opened and Fathers Murray and Quinn rose from their seats at the desk.
“Sister, good day,” Father Quinn said.
“Father Quinn,” Maria said softly. “Father Murray.”
“Please.” Father Quinn gestured to the seat on the other side of the desk.
“I’ll leave you alone.”
Maria didn’t look behind her as Sister Theresa left and locked the door. The room plunged into silence. Maria kept her head bowed, staring at her clasped hands.
“Relax, Sister Maria,” Father Quinn said. “You are not here to be reprimanded.”
Maria released a pent-up breath and lifted her head and looked nervously at the two priests. “Sister, we have been locked in study for a while now. Years in fact,” Father Quinn said. “In a few short months, novitiates, if they decide this life is for them, will take final vows.” He paused, watching her curiously. “Where do you stand on that? On taking final vows?”
“I am pledging,” Maria said quickly, confidently. “I already see myself as a bride of Christ. I want this. This life is everything to me. I understand now that it has been God’s plan for me all along. Everything that has happened to me . . . it was to guide me onto this path, as painful and difficult as it has been.”
Father Quinn and Father Murray looked at one another, seemingly sharing a private thought. Then Father Quinn turned her way and smiled. “You have no idea how happy this makes me, Sister Maria.” Maria exhaled a long, relieved breath. “But,” Father Quinn said, interrupting her relief, “there is something I’m going to ask of you.” Maria waited patiently for him to continue. Father Quinn leaned forward on the wooden desk that separated them, hands steepled. “Sometimes, sister, we, as priests and experienced men of the cloth, need novitiates to prove that they are ready.”
Maria’s heart sank, ripped in two, when those words left the father’s mouth. There was none more fit for a life as a nun than Maria. She wanted to argue that she was prepared, ready for what this life entailed. But she would never speak out of turn. She would never disobey a superior so rudely.
Father Quinn held up his hands. “No one doubts your faith, sister, nor your diligence to your duties. But what we believe you lack is conviction. The ability to do harsh, and often frightening, tasks for the sake of God and mankind. Being sequestered here at Sisters of Our Lady of Grace is noble and will prepare you for a life of service, but what we seek is proof that you are willing to step outside the shackles of these high walls and be a disciple of Jesus, not just His subservient bride.”
Maria’s hands trembled at the thought of stepping out of the gates that kept her safe. When she had decided to join the church at seventeen, Maria was the youngest nun in the convent. She was still only twenty-one; her twenty-second birthday fell on the same week as final vows. But what she lacked in age she made up for in life experience. At age sixteen, she’d felt as though she were ninety. Hardships aged the soul even if the skin your body wore told another story.
Father Quinn sat back in his seat. “Are you ready for that challenge, Sister Maria? One that pushes you, takes you out of your comfort zone and into the graceful arms of Christ?” Maria didn’t speak at first. Father Quinn took advantage of that silence. “Christ died on the cross, in slow, agonizing pain, to save mankind. Is it too much to make sacrifices for Him in return? Love is a two-way street. To take, you must also sometimes give.”
“Love and sacrifice, Sister Maria,” Father Murray said, speaking for the first time. His voice was gentle. “It is what our lives in the church are made of. The church protects us and our mortal souls. Sometimes we need to protect it back.”
Maria swallowed, afraid her voice would shake when she talked. “I-I . . .” she stuttered and cleared her throat. “I am willing to sacrifice myself for the church.” And she was. Her voice may have betrayed her fear, but she knew she was made to endure hardships.