CHAPTER 8
FAREWELL TO SANTO DOMINGO
D ON GONZALO was not the only one to think it well for Rose
to be a Poor Clare. Her old friend, Doña Maria de Quiñones, had had the same
idea ever since she had helped her uncle, Archbishop Turribius, establish the
Franciscan Monastery of Santa Clara.
"Why don't you want to be a nun?" she asked one
day, as the two sat talking in Gaspar's garden. "Think of the peace you
would have in the convent! Think of the happiness of giving yourself wholly to
God! My dear, Don Gonzalo has told me everything. If it's a matter of the
dowry, or what your family will do without the money from your flowers, don't
worry another minute. Don Gonzalo will look after everything."
Rose nodded. "He wants me to be a Poor Clare," she
said slowly. "And you have the same idea. Oh, Doña Maria, I don't know
what to do!"
The woman smiled. She knew what was the trouble. Long ago
Rose had given her heart to the Order of Saint Dominic, and as yet there were
no Dominican nuns in Lima.
"You're twenty years old now. If you're really sure you
don't want to marry..."
"I'm very sure, Doña Maria."
"Then why wait? If God wanted you to be a Dominican,
surely He would have seen to it that a convent of those nuns should be here for
you." "Saint Catherine of Siena wasn't a nun. Perhaps I could be a
Dominican Tertiary just as she was." "And live in the world? Put up
with all kinds of misunderstandings? Rose, my dear, a long time ago I told you
how hard it is to lead a single life in the world. It takes a very special
grace. With the love God has given you for prayer and sacrifice-well, I can't
help thinking you belong in a convent."
"In Santa Clara?"
"Naturally the Monastery of Santa Clara is very close
to my heart. But there are four others in Lima. How would you like to be an
Augustinian? The Monastery of the Incarnation is the first convent for women in
the New World. It would be a great honor to be accepted there, Rose."
The girl sighed. It really shouldn't matter so much. One
could serve God under the Rule of Saint Augustine or of Saint Clare as well as
under that of Saint Dominic. Yet why did her whole soul cry out to be a
Dominican? Why had she always taken Saint Catherine of Siena for her special
model? Even the black and white butterflies in her father's garden-she had
always preferred them to any others because they reminded her of the two colors
in the Dominican habit.
Weeks passed, and finally Rose confided to Ferdinand that
she had made up her mind. If Don Gonzalo was still willing to provide her with
a dowry, she would become an Augustinian at the Monastery of the Incarnation.
"An Augustinian? But what made you change your mind,
Rose? I thought you didn't want to go into a convent."
"Ssh, Ferdinand! You mustn't let anyone know about
this."
"You mean you haven't told Father or Mother?"
The girl shook her head. "No," she said slowly.
"Just now only my confessor at Santo Domingo knows about it-Father Alonso
Velasquez."
"And what does he think?"
"He didn't say much-just gave me his blessing and a few
words of advice."
The young man looked at his sister thoughtfully. Better than
anyone else in the family, he knew how faithfully she had given herself to
prayer and good works. It had always been that way, even when they were small
children. And now she was about to make the greatest sacrifice of all.
"You're sad about something, Ferdinand."
"Not exactly. But I'm going to miss you, Rose. I can't
imagine what it's going to be like to come home and not find you somewhere
about. You've always been here when I wanted you. Now if I want to talk to you
there'll be bars between us; maybe other nuns listening to what I say. That's
the way it is in convents, isn't it?"
"Hush! Someone may hear you."
"What if they do? They'll have to know sometime."
"I wish," cried Rose, "I could tell the whole
world right now. But Father Alonso says to keep it a secret. Even from Father
and Mother. By the way, will you do me a little favor?"
"What?"
"The Mother Abbess expects me at the convent next
Sunday afternoon. Will you take me there, Ferdinand? I can't very well walk
over by myself."
The young man nodded. It was the Spanish custom that no girl
of good family should ever walk through the streets unescorted. Many a time he
had had to accompany Rose on a visit to some church or convent.
"Of course I'll take you," he said quickly.
"Maybe such a good deed will go down in history."
For the rest of the week Rose was very busy, and not only
with her flowers. For some time now she had been doing fine sewing and
embroidery. Several wealthy ladies were her steady customers, and the money
that came in from this new venture was a great help to the family.
"It won't be too different when I've gone away."
she told herself, "thanks to Don Gonzalo. What would I do without such a
good friend? Not only has he given me a dowry, he's promised to look after the
family and see that things go along as usual. Dear Lord, I do thank you for Don
Gonzalo! Bless him every day of his life!"
At the hour appointed on Sunday afternoon. Ferdinand and
Rose set out for the Monastery of the Incarnation. It was hard for the girl not
to say goodbye to her parents, to her sisters and brothers, to Marianna. But it
was not to be. Father Alonso Velasquez feared the arguments that might follow
if her intentions were made known to her family.
As the familiar wooden gate clicked shut, Rose turned to her
favorite brother. "I hope all this is God's Will, Ferdinand."
"What else could it be?"
"I'm not trying to run away from hardships."
"Of course not! In fact, you're taking more upon
yourself by going into a monastery."
As they walked through the streets the girl was silent,
gazing for the last time at the squat adobe houses, the beggars, the little
Indian children playing games. Suddenly a black and white dog darted playfully
toward her. Ferdinand threw out a protecting arm.
"Be careful, Rose! He may bite you. And he's not too
clean."
"He wouldn't bite anyone, Ferdinand. He's only a puppy.
But isn't it strange-he's black and white."
"Black and white! There you go again-still thinking
about the Dominicans!"
Rose laughed. "Not really, Ferdinand. But I do wish, if
there's enough time..."
"What?"
"I'd like to go to Santo Domingo for a last
visit."
The young man nodded. "All right. We can spare a few
minutes, I guess."
Once inside the Dominican church, the brother and sister
separated. Ferdinand stayed near the back, while his sister went up the
right-hand aisle to the Rosary Shrine. She knelt before the golden altar
dedicated to Our Lady and once more offered herself as a servant to the Blessed
Mother and her Son.
"Help me to be good," she prayed. "Dearest
Mother, have mercy on the poor, the suffering, the ignorant. Ask Saint
Augustine to pray for me, that I may save many souls as a nun in his holy
Order."
As the minutes passed, Ferdinand grew uneasy. Rose was
forgetting she had promised to stay only a little while in the Dominican
church. The Mother Abbess of the Augustinians had told her to be at the
monastery for Vespers. Now, if they walked quickly, they would have just enough
time.
He slipped out of the back seat and went rapidly up the
aisle. "Rose, it's time we were leaving," he whispered.
The girl looked up. There was very little color in her face
and her dark eyes were wide with wonder. "Ferdinand, something's happened!
I can't move! It's just as though my knees were glued to the floor!"
"What?"
"It's true. Ever since I knelt down I've had to stay in
the same spot. There's some strange power holding me here!"
The young man stared. What had happened? Was his sister
coming down with some strange illness? Or was she playing a joke on him? One
glance at her pale face, however, and he knew that she spoke the truth.
Something mysterious had really taken place
at Our Lady's shrine. Rose really could not rise from her knees.
"I'll help you," he said in a shaky voice.
"Here, take my arm. But be quick about it. Some of the people in church
are forgetting to say their prayers. There'll be a crowd over here any minute
to see what's wrong."
Rose took her brother's arm, but even the combined efforts
of the two young people were in vain. Before the golden altar of Our Lady of
the Rosary, with its flowers and flickering wax tapers, Rose remained on her
knees.
Ferdinand looked about helplessly. What were they going to
do? By now the nuns at the monastery would be waiting for their new Sister.
Perhaps they would even send a messenger to the Flores house to see why she had
not come. If that happened, Rose's plans would be secret no longer.
"Say a prayer or something," the young man suggested
quickly. "There must be some way to get you loose."
Rose looked up at the statue of Our Lady. It had suddenly
occurred to her that perhaps God did not wish her to be an Augustinian. Perhaps
He had worked this wonder to prove to Don Gonzalo and others that her place was
in the world, not in a convent. Perhaps-oh, happy thought!-she was meant to be
a Dominican Tertiary after all!
"Dearest Mother, I won't be a nun if it isn't God's
Will," she said simply. "I'll go back home and live with my family.
I'll do my very best to serve Him well there. Only please let me get up!"
The words were no sooner out than Rose knew she could rise
to her feet. Her brother stared as she stood up beside him.
"But what happened, Rose? How were you able to get up
after all?"
The girl's dark eyes were shining. "She did it,
Ferdinand-the Blessed Mother! She doesn't want me to go to the monastery this
afternoon. She wants me to go home. I heard her voice in my heart."
The young man shook his head. What was the Mother Abbess of
the Augustinians going to say to all this? And Don Gonzalo de Massa?
கருத்துகள் இல்லை:
கருத்துரையிடுக