Mother Aloysius, D.C.- life story
Mother Aloysius of Our Lady Of Good Counsel, D.C.
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CHAPTER 3.
Bettendorf
It was difficult to think of leaving the affectionate surroundings of Baltimore, and though the thought of final farewells was diligently pushed aside, this only served to make everyone and everything seem dearer than ever. The feast of Mary's Presentation was memorable because the four Sisters who were going to Davenport were scheduled to leave the following morning, and try as she might, no one seemed able to enter into the proper festive mood. Every year thereafter on November 21, it became traditional for Mother Aloysius to "tell us about Baltimore" during the afternoon, and she would reminisce to her hearts content on how sad the Sisters were and how little anyone had to say, and how cheerful everyone tried to be in spite of her gloom. November 22, 1911, dawned at last, and Mother Clare, Sister Aloysius, Sister Gertrude, and Sister Gabriel found themselves comfortably situated in a Pullman compartment which stood out in sharp contrast with the dusty, smoky coach-chair which had been Anna's “Pullman” twenty years before. Transportation had progressed. The beautiful snow-capped Appalachian Mountains were left behind, with the countryside becoming less hilly and less picturesque the farther West they traveled. They were awed by the towering sky-scrapers of Chicago, which had not been noticed before, but the dense traffic of the downtown business district made them glad to be on their way for the last lap of their journey.
The Nagle family of Dubuque, Iowa, Mother Clare's relatives, who were the founders of the Carmel, escorted them from Baltimore to Davenport and to their provisional convent on Brady Street, conveniently- located next--door to the residence of Bishop Davis, who frequently said Mass for the Nuns and remained their staunch friend throughout the years. As might be expected, there was much to be done before Father Garrett Nagle could celebrate the first Mass in the little chapel, and the Sisters wasted no time getting everything in order. In spite of the excitement of making a new foundation, Sister Aloysius felt home- sick for Baltimore, and although she had no intention of returning, the finality of it all was almost more than she could bear. However, she threw herself into her work, and soon made the adjustment with all the generosity of her fervent soul.
It was not long before everyone settled down to the usual convent routine, but the Foundresses Looked to the future and knew that regular observance would not be stabilized unless they expanded into larger living quarters. After careful deliberation among the Sisters and frequent consultations with His Excellency and the architect, it was decided that the provisional convent could easily be enlarged into a permanent monastery. The beautiful new Chapel wing was soon completed, but the Davenport location proved unsatisfactory, and the Bishop advised the Sisters to look far a new site outside the city limits. Day after day, for several weeks, Mother, Clare and Sister Aloysius drove around, looking here, looking there, but with no tangible success. A novena was begun to Our Lady of Mount Carmel., and it was during this time that the Bishop sent word through Father Nicholas Meinhardt to inspect a beautiful piece of property in Bettendorf overlooking the Mississippi River. The whole countryside at that time was a veritable forest with a few scattered houses here and there, but the hill. commanded a magnificent view of the river and its adjacent shorelines. The Foundresses instantly agreed that the site was a direct answer to their prayers, and when they returned home that evening, Mother Clare produced a sprig of apple blossoms as a token that she felt their ark would very shortly be anchored in Bettendorf.
Bishop Davis generously donated the property to the Nuns, while bricks and other materials were carefully salvaged from the Davenport Chapel to be used in Bettendorf. In the designs of Providence working all things unto good, the decision to move was most prudent. Brady Street, where the Nuns originally settled, has since become one of the busiest thoroughfares in Davenport with a continual roar of traffic every hour of the day and night. The suburb of Bettendorf is a paradise of quiet by comparison.
The erection of the building, therefore, began in 1915, and on June 29, 1916, the Nuns moved to their new home with every movable piece of architecture they could take with them. Two cars were placed at their disposal for the trip. Mother Clare, three other Sisters, and a portion of the baggage traveled in the better looking vehicle. Meanwhile, the second auto, a dubious looking Model T Ford, which managed to lose sight of it's companion three or four times on the short trip to Bettendorf, followed along as best it could. As was previously mentioned, the new monastery wall built an the top of a high hill, and in those days, the hill was almost perpendicular with the valley, below with only dirt roads leading to the brow. The first car, occupied by Mother Clare, drove half-way up and suddenly stopped short. Its motor simply was incapable of more, so there was nothing to do but get out and climb the rest of the way on foot. But the dubious looking Model T Ford cheerfully chugged along and deposited its occupants right outside the door of the house. Mother Aloysius used to laugh and say, “We even learn from Model T Fords that he who humbles himself shall be exalted. I hope they will never put me in the ‘limousine' if I ever have to drive out to Bettendorf again."
The middle section of the building was finished when the Nuns arrived. Sad to say, however, the electricians had been misinformed and had left for the day 'without hooking up the wiring. Worse still., the water was not running. With the temperature hovering at a mere 101 degrees, the lack of water might have been a greater calamity if the Nuns were not so elated to be in their new home. The next day, which happened to be First Friday and the Feast of the Sacred Heart, Our Divine Lord took compassion on His Spouses, and in no time at all. the water was running and the electricity turned on to the great relief of one and all.
Carmelite observance could at last be carried out with greater exactitude than was hitherto possible. Although Sister Aloysius continued to act as Subprioress, she supplied as Turn-Sister, and as Infirmarian, until the younger sisters could relieve her of these extra burdens. Many promising subjects were added to the Community, and Mother Clare was quick to make good use of their brilliant talents. She herself assumed charge of the novices, but she employed Sister Aloysius to teach them the Divine Office, and those who were fortunate enough to receive her training on rubrics and choir ceremonial assert that they had an excellent teacher whose instructions they have never forgotten.
In an effort to push the building program as much as possible, the Chapel wing was begun in 1918, and Mother Clare accepted generous offers from wealthy friends to finance her undertakings. But as happens so often in projects of this kind, just when the creditor were ready to receive their first partial payments, God called to Himself the one she had depended upon most for financial assistance. Unfortunately, this good man neglected making a will, and as a consequence, after the estate was portioned out to his various relatives, Carmel received little. The building debt was tremendous. When things seemed at their worst, another blow fell. Mother Clare suffered a severe stroke which paralyzed her entire left side and impaired her Powers of speech . In the meantime, the Bishop, who was in poor health and unable to perform all his duties, appointed a certain priest to act as vicar-Superior and be Carmel's chaplain, assisting the Nuns as their priestly adviser. Although a very holy, soul, Father knew next to nothing about good government, and his constant interference with internal management caused grave misunderstandings to arise, making the Nuns uncertain whom to trust or where to go for authentic advice. This was the beginning of Sister Aloysius' great purification which stripped her soul of everything and forced her into a deep night of faith from which she emerged with greater mastery of herself and a larger vision of the ways of God.
Perhaps because Sister Aloysius was acting in Mother Clare's stead due to the latter's incapacity, perhaps because of a clash of temperament; whatever the cause, this good priest took a decided dislike to Sister Aloysius right from the start. Although she would never do anything contrary to an expressed order, Sister was regularly accused of disobedience, imprudence in the affairs of Monastic government, and one day , Father even felt obliged to inform her 'that it was commonly agreed that she was the solitary cause of all the internal dissension in the Community. This was too much! What was the explanation? Sister Aloysius was at a loss to know. Regaining her composure somewhat, she began:
“Father, in the interests of charity, and for the love of God, please tell me plainly what it is that displeases you in order that I may correct it.”
The answer was emphatic: “Frankly, you bungle everything. You have never learned to take orders, and now that you have assumed control of the Community, your headstrong character and multiple indiscretions are playing havoc with the welfare of the sisters.”
“Father, please, what indiscretions?”
"Why, your mismanagement of the workmen, for one thing. Your mismanagement of regular observance, your mismanagement of all Carmel means. In a word, your downright disobedience, more than anything else, accounts for nine-tenths of your mismanagements. If you will take my advice, you will go back to Baltimore and leave this Community in peace!”
Sister Aloysius was stunned. The injustice of the accusation shook her to the very depths. Her worst fears were realized. It is always difficult to do one's best and to be found wanting. But to be sent back to Baltimore in disgrace because she was a danger to the Community with no definite crime to account for it was absolutely incomprehensible. Did God really want this? Broken-hearted, Sister wept. True Carmelite, she sought relief from her Heavenly Spouse Who alone can bring consolation to the grievously afflicted. St. Paul says: "The sufferings of this time cannot be compared with the glory to come.” But to understand this perfectly, the distressed soul first learns to lose itself in God through suffering, and then it can run like a giant, finding its peace in God alone. Hidden, wrapped away in heroic Christ-like charity, secret strength is found. Consequently, in spite of this trial, or rather, because of it, Sister's soul expanded and she was able to rise above the weaknesses incumbent in human nature by the practice of heroic charity. Her notes reveal the grandeur of the grace she received at this period of her life, summarized by the following quotation from the Cure of Ars:
“(Let us) recognize, then, how saints meet calumny and reproach, even as the King of saints stood before Pilate with His eyes cast down, as a convicted criminal. Men of the world suffer wrong as heros; ordinary Christians as martyrs; saints as penitents. Nor is there affectation or delusion in their estimate of themselves. Humility is but another name for truth. They who dwell in the light of God's Presence see their own stains to be darker than the blackest slander, can paintthem, and they accept contempt and ignominy as their due. The saints move along their VIA CRUCIS not with the proud step of conscious virtue, and the upward glance of injured innocence, but on their knees, with their heads veiled, their eyes cast down, answering ‘mea culpa' to their, accusers, and ‘we, indeed, justly' to their crucifiers.”
No, God was not asking her return to -Baltimore. Her humble, forbearance in forgiving the injury opened the heavens, and God came down to fill her soul with a deep, abiding peace, that indefinable quality of soul acknowledged by all as her chief characteristic. God taught her to cling to Him alone in naked faith and to accept everything that happened with serenity of spirit. And from now on, God could make use of her as His special instrument of grace in leading souls to heaven. Serenity of soul, gained through the practice of heroic charity, was her principle grace and the great theme of all her future instructions.
Superior. But Father X_____, her vigilant director, promptly exploded her lovely air castle. He told her this would be a positive calamity for her spiritual life, and forbade her to waste her time thinking about such trifles. Besides, her very eagerness for the office betrayed her immaturity, and lacking depth of judgment, she did not fear the responsibilities attendant upon superiorship. His disapproval was the death blow for- the idle temptation, and when the election finally took place in Bettendorf, Mother had grown totally indifferent. God's Will was all that mattered to her now. Just three months later, an August 18, dear Mother Clare died, and the entire burden of the Foundation fell to the lot of the co-foundress, who wasted no time in taking the reins of government firmly in hand so as to guide her charges into fruitful pastures of Carmelite silence and prayer.
The new Prioress concentrated on stabilizing the finances of the Monastery. The debt was still tremendous, but by utilizing the talents of all the Sisters in the production of articles for sale, by the baking of Altar Breads to ensure a steady income, and with the assistance of such generous benefactors as Rt. Rev. Msgr. M. Flavin, P.A., whose timely liberality will never be forgotten, all the creditors were paid in full, and the debt cancelled in its entirety. She was likewise assiduous in building up the archives, keeping carbon copies of valuable documents on file so none would be lost; co-ordinating dowries, Professions, etc.; and the management of the archives alone would be a lasting monument to her talent for organization. But there are others.
As an aid to recollection, Mother Clare and Mother Aloysius had planned the landscaping of the grounds with an eye to beauty as well as utility, and the terraces mere laid out in such a way as to suggest the scene of the Prophet Elias' vision of Our Blessed Lady on Mount Carmel. Speaking of gardens brings to mind Mother's love of birds. Her father once told her that if she would shake salt on a bird's tail, she would be able to catch one of them, and seizing a saltshaker, the little five-year old scampered all over the farm after those lovely creatures. Trees planted in our enclosure attract more birds than she could ever have caught with her saltshaker, and year after year we have all kinds and varieties.
Mother held the office of Prioress six different times, and her new title, “Mother,” is a perfect description of her method of government. Not that she could not be stern when a principle was at stake.
But she constantly gave heed to the admonition of St. Teresa of Avila that the Prioress should win the Sisters' obedience by kindness rather than by severity, and she tried her best to give each Sister the same consideration and affection. It is strange, though, how blind we can be when evaluating ourselves. Mother persisted in believing her personality to be very unattractive. It seems that her director had once mentioned to her that she possessed no talent for winning people to herself, but that she could learn to win them to Christ. “To win them to Christ' -- what a beautiful vacation! And now, as Prioress, that is what she set out to do.
Soul of charity, she always displayed a great delicacy of attention.to the needs of all, the Sisters. Consequently, she was an excellent infirmarian and held this office for many years, giving the sick every consideration and relief, though, of course, always in deference to the Prioress. Such a gift proved a powerful asset when in office, in gaining, the confidence of the Sisters. For example, she never seemed to be too busy to listen, and she would know days of continual interruption from beginning to end to frustrate the best of nerves. Yet, no one ever heard herself dismissed abruptly from her presence. To appreciate, the self-control this involves, one would have to be Superior with its multiple matters of grave importance constantly demanding complete attention. Her powers of concentration were great, but interruptions can be nerve-racking even for the best. Nevertheless, Mother maintained her calm and would send each Sister away in peace. Secrets, of course, were inviolable, and she never referred to them again unless the sister herself reopened the discussion. She respected the privacy of the Sisters, in little things as well as in great. She habitually avoided embarassing the Sisters by refraining from mentioning their shortcomings or pointing out their mistakes in the company of others. Should this occur inadvertently, she suffered more than the one whom she thought to have offended. Better to allow mistakes in grammar and punctuation than to wound charity by unsuitable correction,” --was the keynote of her approach.
Charity was the principle theme in all her exhortations, and she never tired speaking about it, nor we in listening. The question arose regarding the interior and exterior practice of virtue, and she was asked to explain apparent and real differences between them. Following St.Thomas' outline more by instinct than by memory, Mother began:
"Whenever in doubt, look to the end, as Scripture would say. For what end, --is this or that particular virtue intended? An interior act of faith, hope, or charity tends directly to God as its end. Whereas eterior act of any virtue is always a means to an end, being the offering of our body to God in some indirect form.
“Therefore, the measure of the act is observed accordingly. When there is question of end, i.e., acts of faith, hope, and charity which tend directly to God, there is no measure limiting them. But an exterior act, (like temperance, obedience, etc.), is a means to the end and the measure is always proportionate. As St. John of the Cross teaches: ‘Man should place no bound to his charity; but on the other hand, in his exterior acts, he should employ a discretion governed by charity.'"
Mother enjoyed great liberty of spirit throughout her life and abhorred rigidity in all its forms. Minor details of ceremonial were always settled by her in short order, (usually by the common sense method), because her mind was set on sanctity which means charity and not argument about peccadilloes. She never risked endangering fraternal charity if she could possibly help it, as she attested in her little brown book of spiritual thoughts:
"The virtue of brotherly and sisterly charity is the touchstone of true holiness. ...It is the clinical thermometer of the spiritual condition of a religious soul. Deliberate violations of this virtue, no matter how small, indicate some infection in the soul's spiritual makeup; whereas, the absence of them is an infallible sign of advancement to a high degree perfection. There can be no genuine sanctity if wilful failings against neighborly charity are freely committed and allowed to pass unheeded.”
She was particularly insistent about fraternal charity during recreation. Lest the time for relaxation degenerate into dissipation she exhorted her daughters to be vigilant and go to recreation to cheer the others rather than to be cheered.,themselves. A practice she recommended highly was that of sitting next to a less congenial companion. She condemned coolness in one's approach as being a loss to the soul which prevents that expansiveness of spirit which characterizes the true Carmelite. A kind word in adversity benefits spiritual progress more and develops character with greater rapidity than the wearing of a hairshirt or fasting on bread and water. Dom Marmiom warns against acting in a cool manner, and Mother used to quote him often:
“Let us take care. The least voluntary coldness, deliberately cherished against one of our brethren, could form and obstacle more or less grave according to its degree, to our union with Christ.”
But perhaps the beat proof of Mother's mind on this favorite topic is to be found in the advice she gave to a Mistress of Novices:
“The care of novices ... is the most important office in the house, for on it depends the true spirit of Carmel. I am responsible to God for these tender souls who are docile and imbibe the spirit that is communicated to them. While you cannot neglect the small things, your utmost attention should be given the weightier things of the law -- the greatest of these is charity. Our Holy Mother says: ‘If we knew the importance of this virtue, we would mind nothing else.'
"Teach the novices how to turn their minds away from what disedifies them. St. John of the Cross says: 'Think no evil of your neighbor for that takes away purity of heart.' ... 'No matter how suspicious the circumstances appear, if it is not your business, avert your mind from passing judgment even mentally.'
"These things came before me at Matins last night that it kept me awake even after I had gone to bed. Human nature is so prone to fail in charity that it is of the utmost importance to strive against it. ...
“Do not seek guidance from any other Siaster in the Community regarding the novices. ... God gives light and advice through duly established authority.
“I tremble when I think of the responsibility in the guidance of souls, and its far reaching effects. If you do not build them up in charity, they will make no progress in virtue notwithstanding all their strivings.”...
When our Sisters left Bettendorf to found new Carmels, Mother intently followed their progress with. her prayers, and advised them whenever her opinion was asked. In 1939 she received a request from one of her daughter Carmels to come and preside there as advisor concerning traditions which surround regular observance. She was eminently fitted for this, and in five months time returned to Bettendorf with a great admiration for the docile obedience of the Community she had left. When questioned about her method of procedure on this occasion, she admitted that at first she had felt totally inadequate for the task, but remembering that God's grace was never wanting, she proceeded to do her hest with her usual serenity of soul. As she once wrote to the Prioress of a Carmel:
“I have a great attraction to follow the grace of the moment without looking forward or backward, -- and accept everything as coming to me directly from the hand of God. This makes the soul live on a supernatural plane and establishes it in deep peace and tranquillity. As long as St. Peter kept his eyes fixed on Jesus, he walked on the water, but as soon as he lowered them to look at the creature (water), he sank. Make no plans for the future but Let God guide you day by day.”
But of greater interest is the opinion of the daughter Carmel concerning her presence with them:
“With consummate art, Mother Aloysius went about her task of guiding us, steering our little ship with a gentle and sweet sureness, giving us confidence by her own confidence in us.....Mother distilled her wisdom so unobtrusively, with such quiet gentleness, that one could easily have mistaken the results as our own initiative rather than her gift to us. Yet, for all the sweetness, there was authority in her guidance, and we felt safe, indeed..... We recall how she delighted our younger Sisters on Holy Innocents by imitating,- them at table in devising a concoction that only- the young would savor. ...
Parenthetically, may we insert that Mother Aloysius told us she had mastered the art of making a sandwich that famous day.
*.... Mother's sober efforts over the performance were the success of the evening-, as well as an unconscious lesson that grace bends our natures under the sway of charity.”
Her spiritual counsels were always a wealth of grace remembered and meditated upon for many, many years. She seemed to sense exactly what would best suit each soul. At the times of Clothing and Profession, it is customary with our Community to write little congratulatory notes for the occasion. Mother Aloysius would write promptly, and each novice treasures the words which came from her pen - -understandably so, if we can judge from this sample written for a Profession:
“Dear Sister ------
Long before the creation of the world, God saw you and chose you. He reserved the very best that He could give--He would make you His Spouse. How holy you must strive to be in view of the wondrous grace with which you have been favored.
Endeavor to please Him with all the generosity of your soul and shrink from no sacrifice He may ask of you. A vigorous effort and these graces with their unction bring joy, peace, and strength.
All Camelites must be fervent--to be happy she cannot be mediocre. God grant you that firm resolve always to strive with great earnestness to reach the summit of the mystical mount of Carmel.
Your devoted mother in Our Lord,
Sr. Aloysius, D.C."
As might be expected, the cultivation of prayer was of paramount importance in Mother's estimation, and like St. Teresa, she stressed establishing personal contact with Christ in our daily lives, the more intimate the better. This has always been the shortest road to contemplation, and once understood, most prayer takes this form. By temperament, Mother was direct, and so was her prayer. During the Christmas festivities one year, Mother announced to the Community that she had a very urgent intention, and she wished the Sisters would go to the Crib and ask Little Jesus to grant it. Her voice was so moving that the Sisters prayed long and fervently at the Crib. That evening when they asked Reverend Mother if her intention had been received, there was such genuine pleasure in her voice when she replied, "Yes," that the Sisters could not resist gently inquiring further as to what the intention might have been. "Well, "she explained, “I did not think the Sisters were giving Little Jesus sufficient attention during His Birthday Octave, and today they did. That pleased Him very much!" And so, my intention was granted.”
Interior prayer becomes stagnant without constant vigilance, and the war against self ends fifteen minutes after we die, according to St. Francis de Sales. Mortification is the true beginning of all spiritual endeavors, an important tool to get us to God, and Mother would begin with interior mortification as being more fundamental than exterior mortification without, however, disregarding the latter. Silence, she would say, is an excellent form of mortification; repression of curiosity another; care of one's own duties still another; and forgetfulness of the words, acts, and duties of others absolutely essential. The diligent practice of these kinds, of mortifications, Mother would assure us, will give time for prayer, the great end of a Carmelite vocation. With the spirit of player we have all, no matter how occupied we may be.
But speaking of mortification brings to the foreground the possibilities of self-will wherein, a fervent soul might be misled into thinking her own judgment is invariably God's Will for her and every one else. Mother made a clear-cut distinction between a stubborn will and a strong will:
"There is a great difference between a stubborn will and a strong will. A stubborn will is a weak will. When anyone is desirous of reaching a conclusion and makes up her mind from the very first not to change no matter how much additional light she may receive, this shows that she has a weak will, not having the strength of character to avow that she has been in the wrong.
“If the will changed without additional reasons, it is also a weak will. As, for instance, when a child asks its mother for something and the mother refuses its request; if the child persists in whining and the mother finally yields, this is weakness of will also.
“Impetuosity is not always a sign of a strong, determined will. When a vocation begins ardently, impatient of accomplishment, ardor seems to die just as suddenly. To act by caprice, or pleasure of the moment, also serves to weaken the will.
"But a determined will, a strong will, always acts quietly. Watch the beginning, the middle, and the end of a series of thoughts when examining this point, and if you discover they distract and follow you to prayer, taking complete possession of you, as it were, and degenerating into lessgood, you can be certain this is the cause of vascillation in your prayer-life. It takes a strong will to banish such pleasantries from over-active imaginations."This analysis proves, once again, that psychology merely describes in grandiose technical language what spiritual teachers have preached for centuries, namely, that character is moulded by the will, and that every act we perform has unsuspected repercussions. A correct evaluation of the great gift God had given man in allowing him free will is the difference between a saint and a mediocre religious, and Mother would often drive home her point by a further example. In the carrying out of resolutions, for instance, if anyone would resolve to do a thing and would have the ambition for it today, but not so much ambition for it tomorrow, and even less the following day, this would be a sign of a weak will, a weak character, whereas, if repugnance should accompany
the first resolve but the thing is accomplished whenever the occasion arises, then there is strength of will, strength of character, present in the soul.
Poverty of spirit is the normal outgrowth of interior mortification, and Mother liked to divide it into three parts: poverty of dependence, poverty of detachment, and poverty of suffering, and she particularly liked St. Paul of the Cross' words on the subject:
“Spiritual poverty, in virtue of which it is not permitted the soul to dwell upon consolations and divine favors, ought also to be practiced with regard to sufferings and contradictions. For if the soul attends, in a reflex manner, to the thought that these trials by which God intends to purify her and cause her to advance in mystical ways, the fact that she fixes her eyes upon them causes the same disadvantages as do consolations and favors .... Conformity to the Divine Will in the midst of every trial is the most perfect act of love one can accomplish.”Although Mother was insistent upon interior mortification at all times, she did not belittle the use of corporal austerities if a soul felt attracted to them. Whenever there was good reason to believe that such penances would faster spiritual growth, Mother freely gave her consent and even encouraged their regular use among the Sisters in the Community. Nature is too prone to be lazy, and extra austerities can be an excellent prod if they are not too novel nor overtaxing to the strength of the individual Nun. In preparation for a feast someone asked to perform an extra penance of this kind and was refused. Hoping to persuade her superior to revoke the decision, the Sister pointed out, "But, Reverend Mother, love never says, 'Enough.'" The answer was instantaneous, 'But those who have care of those little Loves sometimes have to say, ‘Enough.'"
As Superior, she was ever desirous to advance in union with God, eager to do everything with the greatest possible perfection. This ambition, however, made her an easy prey to sensitiveness, but in spite of the hurt, she refused to retaliate and was as ready to forget as she was to forgive. Perhaps her greatest suffering as Prioress was a reproach when she had been faithful to duty, possibly because it was an old wound that cut deep. But the grace she had received remained with her to the end, and she met reproaches of this kind with gentleness and peace. In the matter of making any personal defense she would quote the words of St. Augustine:
"Far better to suppress a truth, (even in self-defense), than to utter it with bad grace, else you might as well serve up a dish badly prepared or give a medicine out of time."Undoubtedly, the reason why she was able to win souls to accept contradictions with tranquillity was because she herself practiced what she preached. This is worthy of mention because her natural impetuosity might lead one to expect the direct opposite, and though there were times when she did not conform to her ideal, her keen appreciation of the sensibilities of others kept her vision broad. True interior soul that she was, she readily recognized the value of contradictions in daily life, and to impress this on the minds of her daughters, she again quoted St. Augustine, who as usual goes to the heart of the matter:
"There is no better test to distinguish the chaff from the grain in the Church of God than the manner in which contradictions and contempt are borne. Whoever remains unmoved under them is grain. Whoever rises against them is chaff, and the lighter or more worthless he is, the higher he rises -- that is, the more he is agitated and the more proudly he protests.”
To the uninitiated, Mother gave the impression of being rigidly austere, heedless of human weakness. Newcomers to Carmel stood in awe of her because of her age and the high veneration for her held by the community. A shy little postulant once remarked that although she knew Mother to be genuinely interested in her personally, nevertheless she could not help feeling awkward in her presence. Later, when Mother was elected Prioress for the sixth and last time, her age, poor health, and multiple duties made it imperative that she be kept on a milk diet and be behind the board partition placed on the last table as a division, in the refectory on Black Fast days (Fridays, Lent, Ember days, etc.). But this also meant that now the Prioress would be seated next to our shy postulant who anticipated great austerities from this mighty soul, and she intended to follow suit if it were physically possible. To the child's amazement, the first feast day candy was served and Reverend Mother slipped her share to her neighbor who realized for the first time that such sympathetic treatment could come only from a soul filled with ardent charity.By word and example, Mother urged the Sisters to leave no stone unturned to attain a high degree of sanctity, and she did her best to encourage each one to cooperate with the lights and graces God gave. One Sister received high commendation for working out a beautiful spiritual program, and in her note of approval, Mother gave this advice:
I most heartily approve of it (the spiritual program). If you persevere in it, not that you may not often stumble and even fall, but promptly rise and endeavor to (reach) your high ideals with renewed ardor, you will without any doubt reach a high degree of sanctity.
May God bless and strengthen you in your resolutions.
Devotedly your mother in Our Lord,
Aloysius of Our Lady of Good Counsel,D.C.u.”
To another generous soul who needed encouragement of a particular kind but who was unable to formulate her deep aspirations, Mother wrote as though she had been inspired:
"....You are a consecrated chalice wherein Jesus finds His delight. Carefully exclude selfish thoughts and earthly attachments so you may radiate only Jesus and have great influence for good on these who come in contact with you. And with St. Paul- (you) can say, ‘I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me!'”And on another occasion to the same generous soul on her Profession Day:
“ .... In the words of the Canticle, you have found Him Whomyour soul loveth. He has shown you how He may be found. He is drawing you to an intimate union with Him in a special manner not granted to all. Let your thoughts be centered on Jeaus. Strive to give Him pleasure by little acts of Love and sacrifices which occur daily. In this way you will advance rapidly in the way of holiness.Your devoted mother in Our Lord,Sr. Aloysius of Our Lady of Good Counsel, Prioress”
It was characteristic of her to go to the sources of things. Projects were always studied in their inceptions so as to compare all progress in that light. Baltimore, the first Carmel in America, won her for this reason. Again, the works of St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross were held in veneration because they embodied the Discalced tradition in its purest form, and her devotion to Carmel's great Reformers deepened with the years. In early Baltimore days, the works of Our Holy Mother were very familiar to all the Sisters, but a tacit agreement prevailed that the books of St. John of the Cross were meant only for the very far advanced, which more or less relegated him to comparative obscurity. Wisely had Reverend Mother Raphael urged Mother to acquaint herself with Our Holy Father, and the latter had become so enamoured that she kept a volume of THE ASCENT AND DARK NIGHT in her cell for years -- that is, until she scrupled about being "attached" and promptly returned it to the library for a time. This devotion to tradition was a predominant trait of character, but it also had another side and accounts for her imposing collection of antiques. Thanks to her, many relics from Baltimore are to be found in Bettendorf today, for instance: one of Father Charles Neale's blankets dating back to Port Tobacco days is preserved inside Mother's quilt.
From one of her daughter Carmels, we have this further paragraph on the subject of tradition:
“For those who have lived in a Carmel where generation has succeeded generation in the normal way of living, and where old traditions have been an unconscious heritage, it is difficult to understand what security came to us just from the presence of this serene old warrior. (I say it very reverently.).....As Mother Aloysius would tell us of Baltimore Carmel and the Mother's of long ago, I remember wondering if those tales -- to us so fresh and new out of 'ancient history' -- ever became stale in her own Community when they were told and told again.”
Strange as it may seem, we never Wearied of Mother's familiar tales of long ago. Were we, perhaps, learning to love tradition, too?
Although Carmelite authors were always her preference, she did not limit her reading to them alone, and her spiritual notebook abounds with quotations from St. Francis de Sales, St. Augustine, Tauler, Cardinal Newman, St. Alphonsus, St. Paul of the Gross, the Cure d'Ars, Dom Marmion, to mention only a few. At recreation, nothing pleased her more than to hear someone relate an anecdote culled from some good book or magazine article, and she always spoke enthusiastically about reading that interested her. It was a constant source of amusement to watch Mother pick up a biography, for instead of opening it at the table of contents to decide its interest value, she would invariably turn to the last two or three pages and if the life ended properly, according to her liking, only then would she return to page one. When reading, she watched for sentenced that would be applicable to spiritual needs of the moment, and she collected them in a little brown notebook that she used at regular intervals. About twelve years before her death she was appointed Mistress of Novices, and she invited the novices to keep little notebooks like Mother Raphael had taught her to do. This device was calculated to channel over-active imaginations and be a private incentive for spiritual advancement. In Mother's own case, this proved to be extremely beneficial to the end of her life.
During her first triennial, she began writing a journal describing her impressions of the ensuing years in Bettendorf. About twenty-six years later, she mentioned this project to one of her confessors. His advice was to burn the thing without delay for various reasons, mainly because he considered it a waste of time. God alone knows its historical worth, but sacrifices of this nature were no longer problems in her life. The end was drawing near.
Hers was a distinctly German temperament, and as a general rule, she would cling tenaciously to her own viewpoint long after the discussion might reasonably have been closed. She was prone to draw rapid conclusions concerning domestic affairs, conclusions she found difficult to revise in spite of compelling proof. On the other hand she was quite guileless in many respects, accepting an easy explanation rather than decide a matter that would cause unrest or prove disagreeable. This refers to smaller annoyances, because whenever she recognized her duty, she firmly rectified the wrong to the beat of her ability.
As the years went by and her faculties began to slow down, changes of any kind usually caused alarm. The new regulation concerning abstinence in 1926 was a source of worry to her because her Final Profession formula had ended with the words; "...according to our Constitutions without mitigation,” and because this change was one of leniency, it was therefore a mitigation. But ten or twelve-years later, after she received the explanation that "mitigation' meant "Calced Carmelite" and that a directive from the Generalate is never a relaxation or “mitigation" strictly so-called, all her fears vanished and she was the first to speak favorably of the point. She was never afraid to admit she was mistaken. The same might be said when, we discussed the adoption of Gregorian Chant for Mass. Its use for the liturgy being approved by the Order coupled with her anxiety to conform to the mind of the Church finally convinced Mother, and we marveled how rapidly she learned the fundamentals of Gregorian rhythm and notation during the last year of her life.
So many, outstanding events occurred during her years in Carmel that it would far surpass the scope of these pages to list all the interesting details. Two foundations were made, in Indianapolis and Milwaukee. Important guests, such as the Apostolic Delegate, three Discalced Carmelite Generals, ex-Governor Dunne of Illinois and his retinue, visited inside the enclosure. The translation. of THE GIFT OF ONESELF was published. Public novenas and solemn triduum celebrations 'were held for major occurrences like the canonizations of the Little Flower and St. Teresa Margaret. She celebrated her Golden Jubilee in 1942 and received numerous tokens of congratulations on this memorable occasion. And she lived to see the world engulfed in two grim wars.
But the climax of her life and her greatest consolation came in her declining years when, God granted her the privilege of making her Solemn Profession with her daughters on April 11, 1949. It was an unexpected grace for all of us, and how fitting that she should be the one to receive our Solemn Professions on this memorable occasion. Although she predicted this would be her “Nunc Dimittis,” God kept her with us long enough to celebrate her Diamond Jubilee during the Marian Year, April 26, 27, and 28, 1954. Messages and congratulations poured into the Monastery from every part of the country, and the recreation room became so crowded with elaborate gifts from her many friends that we had difficulty moving about in the room. A detailed description of our family celebration was mailed to all our sister Carmels, and further mention would be superfluous here.
How shall we describe her declining years? Just as the sun when setting in the west lights up the sky with a deep crescendo of color and beauty, and then, quietly disappears into the vast depths of a boundless horizon, so did Mother's life recede into God, with the same steadiness and sureness that characterized it right from the start. Towards the end, her pursuit of God by way of total detachment and faithfulness to prayer won that supreme grace which early in life she had once defined as “a will burning with fervor.” But now, during these final days, Mother's sole interest was centered in God and her will was in perfect truth set firmly in Him, burning steadily and evenly with fervent charity. A few weeks after she was out of office as Prioress, she remarked how much she appreciated this time in order to prepare worthily for death. She wanted to be certain that her detachment was as complete as she could make it, and she lovingly whispered, “Come, Lord Jesus,” as she went about her daily occupations. As the years rolled by and we received death notices of those she once knew, Mother began to feel an understandable loneliness and must have shared the Apostle John's affectionate impatience at being the last to die. She was certainly resigned to whatever God might ask of her, but she admitted that she secretly longed to have someone of her own era in whom to confide, especially when she wanted to speak of Heaven.
Her example in Community as a Sister in the ranks was a precious grace for Bettendorf. She wanted to give her best to the Community at all times, but we were particularly impressed by her carefulness not to show disapproval publicly at recreation, or out of time, of things she might dislikes but would wait for an opportunity to speak privately to the Prioress. In the matter of disapproval, it is human and easy to show one's displeasure in act. Mother was never surprised by this weakness, but as Prioress she would rarely make provision for a person she knew would be displeased at the common fare, and Mother's direction would be, “Let those Sisters have the satisfaction of being able to refuse but never treat them differently from the rest -- you are dealing with self-love, not necessity, in instances of this kind.” And now out of office this broadness of view remained with her to be our beacon along the way. She always felt responsible for us, as was only natural, but she tried earnestly, to conform to the wishes of others, old and young alike.
As is common with the elderly, new ideas different from one's own are difficult to accept. Mother felt it keenly when the Landscaping was revised with bushes uprooted or transplanted to make way, for new trees, flowers, etc., not of her own planning. To her, this was a description.of a life-time of Labor being cast aside as though it were nothing. But after the work was done, Mother never showed resentment, and this was true whenever her opinion was not accepted -- things of earth simply were not that important, and she approached, every problem in a truly detached sort of way that was beautiful to behold.
The question of Federation aroused great anxiety, and she was shocked by, the necessity of Carmelite Nuns leaving the, enclosure at regular intervals. But as she rightly concluded, “I might: as well keep my peace because I'll be dead before it's in force.”
However, these last years, were not years spent in complete forgetfulness of the needs of souls. if anything, her, thirst for the spread of Christ's kingdom on earth within the heart of every, human being, intensified to such an extent as to make her forget all else.She realized the Church is, the Life of Christ and thus her own lift belonged not to private pursuits but to the Church, which is Christ on earth. In 1953 she was able to say:
"We must ever keep before us the ideal of our consecration- -- that we are dedicated to the Church and to the salvation of souls. We are dedicated by the Church to the exercises of prayer -- that of the Mass, of the Divine, Office, and all other prayers. We must never forget that we no longer belong to ourselves so as to dispose of ourselves, but we belong to the Church.”Our prudent virgin, always kept her lamp well oiled, and when the Bridegroom finally came for her, He found her watching, and waiting for His call.
A sketch of Mother's life is hardly complete unless there be some word about her personal appearance. Pictures rarely did her justice, and words can be misleading but at least a general Idea may be gained by those who never knew her if some attempt at describing her be made. She was of a slight build about five feet - four inches tall, and as she grew older she acquired a certain stoop with shoulders rounded and bent forward although when she stood in the Choir or elsewhere, she usually leaned backwards just a bit. The shape of her face was round with high cheekbones that became a pretty pink whenever she was excited or unexpectantly surprised but her complexion, was otherwise a nice tan without too much color. Her nose was thin across the bridge and slightly turned up and broader at the nostrils, but the most remarkable thing about her was the unusual smoothness of her skin especially her face, which always belied her age. There was a suggestion of laugh wrinkles around the corners of her steel blue eyes that became more pronounced with the years. Her forehead was high, and she used to tell us that the correct way to wear our toques was to have a good part of the forehead exposed, Her nicely molded features gave her a dignified beauty and we shall never forget the childlike candor and simplicity that shone out from her eyes as she looked at us, ever the tops of her extremely thick glasses, which gave the effect that she was peering at us. Although she was very careful to keep her hands and feat covered with the Holy Habit, the tips of her, toes could be seen peeking out from under the hem whenever she was seated. Incidentally, we were always amazed how she was still able to sit back in the Choir during prayer, and she genuflected until the last two or three years of her life. She walked with a kind of meandering stroll, toes pointed inwards, and a whispering sound of her alpargates used to identify her approach in the dormitory. She had a distinctly Austrian build with its suggestion of heaviness typical of German lineage. In short, her bearing was noble, but unaffectedly simple withal, giving her an aspect that was extremely attractive.
Mother was too matter-of-fact ever to be witty, and though she would smile indulgently during the telling of a joke, the point usually escaped her and required special explanation, which was always entertainment in its own right. An amusing incident occurred when our Superior and good friend, Bishop Henry P. Rohlman, now the retired Archbishop of Dubuque, stopped a few moments to speak to Reverend Mother. During the course of the conversation, he inquired about the health of the Sisters, and Mother Aloysius explained that many of them were suffering from colds due to the unsettled October weather. Just then, the five o'clock prayer bell rang. The.Bishop rose to his feet and asked, "'What do you have on now?" -- Winter habits," Mother re- plied. (It happened to be the first day they were worn that season.) The Bishop's roar of laughter was heard on the other side of the house, but it was not until later that Mother fully comprehended the meaning of all the merriment.
At the close of Mother's final triennial, one of her daughters asked for a few well chosen sentences that would epitomize the content of the advice she had given during her years as Prioress and spiritual advisor of the Sisters. That evening, the following message was slipped under the Sister's cell-door, her spiritual legacy to all Carmelites, but especially these in Bettendorf:
"....Thinking what would be my parting advice to you, this came before me. The great danger is when the first fervor has passed away, we fall into a routine in our daily exercises, join the rank of mediocre Sisters. Strive with all the fervor of your soul to make daily progress.
Your old mother in Our Lord,
Sr. Aloysius of Our Lady of Good Counsel, D.C.”
CHAPTER FOUR >>>