SISTER ANNE MARIE, CARMEL DCJ

My religious vocation didn’t begin with me. The first hint that God had something special in mind for my family was back in the 1970s. From a respectable Protestant family, my grandmother decided to pursue a degree at a Catholic college. Her studies ended in her conversion, which in turn resulted in the conversion of my grandpa, my mother who was 16 at the time and my aunt. Were it not for that, I doubt I would ever have found the Church on my own, let alone my vocation.

My mom got married and soon found out she was pregnant. Her second major role in my vocation now appears, because in her fear that she would lose her baby, she made an art of abandonment and gave her baby to God. Had she known that He would take her so seriously, she might have hesitated!

I grew into my vocation very naturally. My mother was involved in a prayer group when I was very young, and some of my earliest memories are of being with her, praying at people’s houses, praying in churches, praying at home. She used to waken me very early on Wednesday and we would drive out to a convent of cloistered Carmelite nuns for mass. All through my childhood, whenever I was happiest, or rather, most peaceful, I wanted to be a nun.

I wasn’t personally involved with any prayer groups, youth groups, clubs, sports, which made my vocation a very private thing. Nor did I ever go “convent shopping,” visiting communities or writing for information. I prayed to the Lord that if He wanted me to be a religious, then He’d better do something about it, because I had no idea what to look for. Of course, we had the same understanding about marriage; I avoided dating for the same reason that I avoided nuns.

However, I couldn’t avoid a nun one Sunday in our parish basement. Before mass, I was in the ladies’ room, trying to put up my long, static-plagued hair. Two Carmelite nuns walked in. My hair battle finished, I began to walk out, only to have a hand plucking at my elbow. One of the sisters introduced herself and handed me a brochure. I took it home and threw it in the bottom of my closet.

It would have stayed there, but several months later I found myself desperately in need of a class to fill my schedule in my last high school semester. Every class was, oddly enough, full, and the only choice was to intern at a local business. I remembered meeting a nun at church who was from the nursing home located only five minutes from my home. I dashed into my room and started chucking stuff out of my closet, hunting for the brochure. I found it, nervously called and managed to fill the hole in my schedule.

Gradually my prayer started to change from “Dear God, whatever You want,” to “Dear God, please, please, please let me be a religious!” In the spring, my eyes were opened, and I saw clearly that God was asking me to be a Carmelite of the Divine Heart of Jesus. My dear sisters accepted me with open arms that fall, and my brave parents let their only child go willingly, something I am eternally grateful for. God reward the people in my life who helped to form my vocation.

Sister Anne Marie, Carmel DCJ