Tuesday, August 11, 2020

It was Spring..







  It is Spring, it is Long Island and we are young.

The road winds through tall oaks and shadows move over our bus. We are headed for a retreat house that perches above the Long Island Sound. It comes into view, a  huge grey stone building with many windows reflecting the afternoon sun.We see white turrets hanging from the building and are impressed. All smiles and giggles, we take down our suitcases and head for the tall wooden door. Before we know it we are assigned a room on the top floor and lugging our stuff we climb.I fell in love with the room the minute we opened the door. Sloping ceilings, bright white walls, black square key holder and beyond, the still water of the Sound.

We are four high school friends.Patti and I are besties, Carole and Maureen are too and the four of us find delight in almost everything we do.To be together for a week-end seems almost too much. We can read each others minds and a raised eyebrow will send us into fits of glee.

A soft knock comes right after we are settled into our spots.A  black robed nun comes in with a companion. The girl is thin, has white hair and thick glasses.We are asked if we have room for her as she has come alone.We are good Catholic girls and know what we should do but I must say I am extremely  disheartened  that our foursome will be invaded. It was not me who said: "sure, we'll be glad to have her."And now we were five.

The rest of the retreat is a blur to me but this moment, this moment,  I hold in my heart. The stranger, I wish I could recall her name, is walking alone along the beach towards the rock jetty the next afternoon. To understand what came next, I must self critique. I know this auburn haired slender girl who is me, She is shy, introverted, uncomfortable socially in most instances and was taught never to speak until spoken to. And yet, in that moment she goes and engages with the girl. This is totally out of character. We chatted, laughed a bit. Does she remember?

I think of this girl coming alone to a retreat. How did she feel? What drew her ?. I can still see her solemn face. I now know this: that was the first time the Spirit made a request. It is so clear to me.

Now, I offer this prayer: "Thank you, Spirit, for being there that day. For the urging then and since that have borne fruit. Today, I pray for those two girls, both shy strangers, who You showed a way to be friends."

3 comments:

Teri said...

Such a beautiful sweet story. I'm trying to remember my first encounter with the request of the Holy Spirit. Thanks for prompting me to remember! Teri

georgia peach said...

Teri,Thank you for commenting..I bet you will remember.

patricia said...

I love the way you brought this memory of friendship into the present moment...powerful to imagine for your readers. I also love, more, the ways the Holy Spirit gently blows wisdom into our hearts, such an endearing story for anyone.