Meadowlark Story Society assignment: write a story based on a photo from the book "The Chronicles of Harris Burdick", illustrated by Chris Van Allsburg

The Nun

The bruise bleeds down her forehead, alerting others to her mishap, her clumsiness. The incident occurred four days ago, while chopping onions and reaching into a cabinet. She should know better…multi-tasking is never a good idea. Headaches have become a daily occurrence. Now, almost a week later, her sisters are encouraging her to see a doctor.

The last time she saw a doctor was when she questioned her life’s path. It doesn’t happen often, Teresa usually pushes these thoughts from her mind. She can do that, she’s been trained to be introspective so she knows when to consciously detour a line of thought.

Here’s how it went:

Teresa is the only woman in the waiting room. She’s nervous, but not too nervous to notice the pink theme of the room’s design. Pink flowers, framed in wood hues that lean in that same color direction. Someone has left half a plastic cup of water on the table. On a sideboard, there’s cookies, napkins, cucumber-infused water in an attractive glass dispenser. She doesn’t understand how anyone could drink water like that, so easily, when she’s so nauseated that the thought of cucumber burps is intolerable. She envies those who don’t have bodies that betray them in many ways, least of which perhaps isn’t a breast tumor. She’s so tired of her nerves affecting her thoughts, her muscles, digestive system.  She’s just tired.

Waiting in the room next to the consultation area, she’s one of several women who only sport a tiny gown. They all smile at each other, some just here for a routine mammogram, some here to find out if a growth has returned. Teresa can’t tell which women have more at stake…everyone thumbs through the waiting room’s magazines in a bland, disinterested way. She enjoys being anonymous, not a nun, just another woman at the doctor’s office.

Her devoted parents, in naming her Teresa, insured that her formal (nun) name would remain the same. This doesn’t always happen, of course, but the powers that be understood that Teresa needed to remain Teresa.

She dozes while waiting on the exam table. Teresa dreams of a parallel life. The one that would have unfolded had she not taken Father O’Connor’s advice and gone into the sisterhood.

Her life could have been this:

Teresa Goodrow’s big brown eyes are a magnet for boys. Her heavy brows, so cute in childhood, are becoming harder and harder to manage. Her mother would tell her “what’s to manage?” in admonition for her vanity, but Teresa wants desperately to fit in, to be like the other girls.

She grows to adulthood, marries. Like good Catholics, Teresa and Mike have many children. Like good Catholics, they bring them up in the faith, attending Catholic schools and participating in the church in ways other families not as reverent might skirt in favor of mainstream culture.

Teresa’s life consists of making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, carpools, bedtime.

Knowing God sees her in those moments that no one else does, all the private moments, is a comfort instead of a burden.

Teresa’s dream evolves into her current life. Sister Teresa’s life is vastly different from Teresa Goodrow’s life. Even resting thoughts are not the same. Is this surprising? Of course not. But it seems even Teresa’s core personality, who she is and was at birth, has changed.

She dreams of cardinals judging her, of nuns who came before her, of Hildegard. Hildegard, that amazing mystic from the twelfth century, has always been a heroine to Teresa. Someone she aspires to…perhaps even the reason she chose the sisterhood. In her dream, she sees herself in Hildegard, an impossible descendant, seated in the Santa Maria Maggiore. She sees this even as Notre Dame burns itself into oblivion, Parisians sobbing in the streets.

When the technician bursts into the room, apologizing for the wait, Teresa is grateful instead of irritated. She has welcomed this short dream, allowing her to view a life not taken. She is so happy to be returned to Teresa the nun instead of Teresa the mother of five that she feels tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Not wanting the tech to assume she’s nervous, she bares herself: “I’ve just dreamt an alternate reality of my life. I’m so glad to return to my real life.” The technician smiles, not really understanding. Perhaps finding her odd. Teresa doesn’t care. This is one of the many benefits of her life as a nun…the dismissal of others’ judgements of her. She relaxes into the routine of the exam, saying a short prayer, thankful to be Sister Teresa.