This is a hard year for me to recount. I spent years praying to know what I was meant to learn from it, then more years praying for grace to trust I didn't need to know. But there was one part of this season that was always bright, clear, and warm, and she was Sr. Janna.
We entered the convent as aspirants in the same year. The sisters called us "companions" and each maintained special relationships with their own companions from when they entered. Janna and I were thrown together even more completely because it happened that we were the only two aspirants in our province that year. Everything was done together. That was enough reason to form a strong bond, but when the thing you are doing together is "tryna be a nun" (as my non-Catholic cousin explained), the experiences are so unique that the bond is even tighter.
For example, we were each given a hand-me-down long blue jumper to use as our daily work clothing. Only Sr. Janna can personally understand the hilarity of the sisters' elderly Egyptian seamstress dressing me in a giant jumper and giving the firm assurance that I will "grow up." We received stares as we walked to the local park in our matching jumpers to cheer loudly for the Catholic high school soccer players we'd only just met last month. Janna saw me painfully parallel park in overcrowded Paterson, NJ to visit an immigrant family's apartment on a ministry call (then lock the keys in the car). And there was never anything in the world like the weekly 3-hour Zoom class with Sr. Judith's well-lit forehead that left us feeling like we were in a coma.
In these and many other funny situations, Sr. Janna always responded with her wide smile and head-throw laugh. Her laugh came easily, and progressed through stages starting with "ha ha ha ha ha," then five huhs, and finally five hees. She would give a look as if she thought you were the cleverest dog in New Jersey, and the encouragement was irresistible. I felt like a master impersonator when I did my bit as Sr. Teresita scolding us about the laundry.
One of our duties at the all-girl Catholic high school where we were assigned was to greet the students as they came in for the day. Sr. Janna's face lit up with genuine joy whenever she saw any of these beautiful daughters of God, and that is certainly how she saw them, because not everyone in the world would be delighted to see some of the groggy, messy-side-pony, attitude-dripping, sweatpants-hiked-under-plaid-skirt young ladies who walked in that door. But Sr. Janna knew the love of God, and so she held that love for others. We spent so many afternoons racking our brains for new ideas on how to greet those girls the next day with new creativity at our "free" table (free hand hugs, confidence boosters, bad puns, origami doves, cute puppy puzzles, and even free personalized haikus).
Among the sisters in the convent, Sr. Janna was also loving and beautifully humble. One time, she created a slideshow for some special occasion and wanted to have background music for it. When that turned out to be a tricky digital problem, she simply decided to do a live accompaniment on the piano. It was gorgeous. When complimented later, Sr. Janna acted delightedly surprised, as if the beauty that had come out of her fingertips had just spilled out accidentally. She was just happy they had loved it!
Despite the many wonderful times we had, that year was one of head-splitting cognitive dissonance for me. I needed Sr. Janna's encouragement in a desperate way. Almost daily, she listened to my frustrations and questions with complete attention and sympathy. Before I was about to depart on a flight home, she handed me an envelope filled with fifty personal affirmations, each written on little strips of classroom colored construction paper. I don't know where they are anymore, but I don't need to. It's enough of an affirmation to remember that she saw me in my lowest moments and found me worthy of the time spent on such a gift.
I may not know why God had me in New Jersey that year, but I do know that He ministered His miraculous love to me through Sr. Janna, and I am forever grateful for the mercies they showed me together.
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