Poem by Mother Mary Monica, O.P.

Part 1 of 3: The Journey Begins

This excerpt from Mother Monica’s Rhymed Narration of our Foundation tells of the restless (for some!) final night in Summit, New Jersey, and our foundresses’ eager arrival in North Guilford, Connecticut. The first item of business upon arriving was to participate in the celebration of the Holy Mass.

Twentieth day became twentieth night,
There were great goings on most all out of sight.
There were nuns – yes, asleep – but not in their beds –
‘Twas down in the storeroom they laid their tired heads.

But only a few were lucky thus
To sleep at all, though they slept in the dust,
For the rest were all scurrying around like a mouse
Moving choir books and dishes clear out of the house.

Near dawn the more daring went up to their cell
To await and jump up with the loud rising bell,
Then out with the others they ran when it rang—
“Good morning, good Mother,” they prayed and they sang.

Then back in their cells they grabbed all that they had
And down the back staircase they ran just like mad—
Burst in on the people who slept in the dust.
Outside they could hear the purr of a bus.

So, one by one at late dawn of the day
Assembled the group who were going away.
One little trustee locked the great cloister door:
Their home they were leaving for good—evermore.

And with eager eyes we were longing to see
Our future home, just what it would be.
‘Twas well we relied on God’s strong, strong grace
When just about noon we arrived at the place!

At twelve-fifteen in a parlor space
We knelt for Mass and prayed for grace,
And begged little Agnes, the saint of the day,
To come with courage, without delay.

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