Being a nun

must be very different now. 

I went to visit a very elderly nun yesterday. It was her birthday and I had made a card for her - a card with a great many quotations on it. 

Now I have just looked at the last two sentences again and thought, "How extraordinary is that?" 

The very fact that I should even know a nun, let alone know her well enough to give her a card for her birthday, is something I would not once have contemplated. Here I was pedalling in to the convent, another nun gave me a cheerful wave. "We gave her a morning tea!"

I had thought they might so I had timed my visit for after that. I did not want to go in the afternoon. B... likes to have a "snooze" in the afternoons. It isn't an indulgence at her age. It is a necessity. 

At the back door, where almost everyone goes in now, I was about to knock when yet another (elderly) nun came along and said, "She's just back but do come in. I know she will be pleased to see you."

One of the outside carers who comes in to help her shower and dress was there and said, "I'll tell B.... you are here. She's in her bedroom."

I followed her in and, on seeing me, B..'s face lit up with her wonderful smile. She has one of those smiles that starts at her eyes as she sees you and then spreads to the rest of her face. It's a real smile.  "Cat!"

I kissed her, said the usual birthday things, and handed over the card. She may be 95 but she can still read without glasses and she is still very mentally alert. "Oh, I like this...and this..." she told me as she read some of the quotations aloud. Then she put it down and we chatted for a few minutes. I knew she would be tired as she is physically frail. It meant not staying for long so I soon left her and went to find P... in their kitchen. She was tidying away plates and mugs. We hugged as we usually do but I didn't stay much longer. There were other things I needed to do.

"Come down soon," P... told me, "B... would love a proper chat."'

She knows I will come too but I pedalled off thinking how different things were. As a mere kitten I could not have imagined any of this. Nuns were "Catholics" and we Presbyterians did not mix with them. At school we thought the "Catholic kids" were strange and did strange things. My mother didn't care for Catholics at all. The Senior Cat was much more accepting. His father went out of his way to support a close by orphanage the nuns struggled to run. (It was considered absolutely extraordinary when several of them attended my grandfather's funeral. They stood, dressed in their black habits, at the back and left immediately the service was over but it still caused a lot of comment throughout the community.)

B...'s bedroom is not much tidier than mine. She may not have as many books in it but she does have a full bookshelf of her books. She has a small television set, her "comfortable chair" and other belongings. It is "ordinary" I suppose. P...'s bedroom is much the same...perhaps a little tidier. Neither of them own a habit now. If the occasion requires it they have plain skirts and jackets that look a bit formal...the sort of thing I would wear into court if it was not acceptable for me to wear trousers. 

The Senior Cat, having had more than one cup of tea in their kitchen, said of their home, "Some of it is a bit austere - or is it just a bit tidier?"   I suspect the latter. Perhaps they don't have quite as much as many people but they are comfortable.

It is as it should be now. Yes, they are still devout. They believe things I do not believe. I believe things they do not believe or perhaps even understand.  I respect their beliefs and they respect mine. We do more than "get along with each other" however. We are friends - and that is as it should be too.