Do nuns go straight
to heaven? (Part 1)

(First of two parts)

IF you ever attended a Catholic school run by nuns, you may have mixed memories of how these women affected you: Were you awed by their piety, thinking they had a direct line to God? Were you comforted by their compassion and readiness to listen, thinking they were lucky to have no problems of their own? Were you moved by their selflessness and heroism, thinking they had dedicated their lives to serving God and other people? Were you terrified by their discipline, thinking they made up rules impossible for ordinary humans to follow? In fact, did you think of them as extraordinary, people who are not like the rest of us, in a category of holy and therefore superhuman?

Where do nuns go when they are old and gray? Do you think they lie peacefully in a serene setting, perhaps a lovely cottage surrounded by a garden that is spring-like all-year round, until an angel comes for them to take them straight to heaven? If you think that, you have been reading too many fairy tales.

We may have a romanticized image of these ladies in gray, white, or black robes, their hair veiled at all times. We may imagine them to be saint-like, as many of them do exude such aura, and therefore immune to the harsh realities of life. But the truth is that they are all normal people just like the rest of us: they grow old, they get sick, and they suffer, before they die.

In reality, the nuns of our childhood memories are regular people, just like us. Before they go to heaven, their bones grow brittle, their joints start to ache, their hair turns gray, and their memories become less sharp. But where do they spend their last few years? They do not have spouses or children to take care of them in their own homes. When they entered the convent in their youth, they pledged themselves into the service of Jesus Christ, marrying into his family, for the rest of their lives. They left their biological families for their spiritual family. These "brides" of Christ call themselves sisters -- and truly that is what they become: sisters who take care of one another until their last breath.

If they are nuns belonging to the Philippine branch of the international congregation Sisters of St. Paul of Chartres, they live out their final years at the "vigil house" in Quezon City, a home for nuns who have "retired" due to old age or illness. Yes, they do get old and they do get sick. The facility was originally built to house only 40 people but is now packed with 70 retired nuns, 30 of whom are non-ambulatory.

The cause to improve the living conditions of these aging nuns has spurred into action St. Paul College alumnae in the Philippines and in the U.S., spanning many generations. E-mail after e-mail (collected in http://paulinian.homestead.com/files/2001vh.htm) tells of emotional visits by the former Paulinians to the vigil house.

"We were all teary-eyed upon seeing our dear sisters helpless and really wanting for attention. Sister Josefa would not let go my hand and kept asking me to come back to visit her. I had a hard time fighting back tears as I remember how she was when she was our Dean of the Commerce Department," wrote Sol Balda-Ilagan, class of 1965.

Ilagan now chairs the board of the newly formed Paulinian Global Foundation in Maryland, U.S.A., a non-profit organization whose first major project is to raise funds to build a new vigil house in Pasig City. When this is done and the retired nuns have been moved from the old to the new facility, the old vigil house will be converted into The SPC Socio-Pastoral Development Center. The latter will be used as a home for the rehabilitation of street children, specifically young girls in the Quezon City area, a crisis intervention center for battered and abused women, and a training center for caregivers caring for the sick and the elderly.

The new vigil house being envisioned will be a four-story building with medical and geriatric facilities, a chapel, and an elevator. It will have enough room for the elderly nuns as well as for younger nuns assigned to care for their retired sisters.

(Concluded next week)

Romina Saha is a fulltime mom, freelance writer and copy editor based in San Jose, California. She may be reached at ConnectionsRS@aol.com.