Mother Superior: a Catholic story

I did not go to catholic school.. but have had a few meetings with Nuns.

 

One of the best lines I ever heard in a movie came from , Trainspotting a rather graphic depiction of  young Scottish heroin hooligans...

The line was this, " They called him , Mother Superior on account of the length of his habit".
I like it , I like clever word play and I will forever, think Mother Superior when I run into someone with a lengthy habit.

This story was inspired by that line…

Mother Superior's shoes were those reserved for only severe women, such as prison guards, old lady spinsters, Witch shoes really but without a point..

We squirmed in our chairs , already hearing those pointless shoes trod the waxy wooden halls of St Teresa's, we checked or shirt to knee ratios, of which we were always dangerously on the hairline of harlotry.

We folded our hands on our desks and then focused our eyes toward the door , she entered our heads followed in unison like little Stepfford girls.

After school we would  don some pretty long habits ourselves, Mary Alice, Mary Beth and  yours truly,Mary Bethany,  under the trees behind the brick fence we lit our Pal Mals compliments of St Jude's boy's   who all had a weakness for plaid skirts and knee highs.

Our legs uncrossed as well as our hearts... we talked about boys and sex and rock idols and at night we said our prayers and asked to be forgiven for  talking about boys and sex and rock idols.

When we grew up , we shared stories of the mother superior, of the tortured saints and retain no guilt for the moments stolen for ourselves nor do we lament the fear we had in her presence, we remember and laugh and wonder what we were afraid of and we wonder what was she afraid of.

Reviews

[Doctor JKC]

Those shoes were medical. And Nazi.
Like Volkswagens for the feet.
I got kicked in the shins many times by such shoes and
the pathological sub-normal women known as nuns.

You might enjoy my Life in Queens stories as they rotate
mainly around catholic school.

I live in my old neighborhood a few blocks away from
Holy Child Jesus School, the church, and it's convent.
Each time I pass it I spit and give it the finger.

Love your piece!
Dr. Callaghan