It’s time to write again.

My friend Noreen is a nun in The Sisters of Charity of Jesus and Mary.  We’re taking the Social Integration Course, which teaches us about Belgian society.  And she invited me to lunch.  She’s the one dressed in blue and white.

A few sisters spoke some English but mostly we smiled at each other.  I was invited to sit on the honoured guest chair at the dining table.  A welcome sign sat with me.

It was quiet and sweetly vibrating in the convent.  A place of rest, of contemplation, of prayer.  Like home.

The meal was delicious, especially the traditional Belgian stew – stoofvlees.  A marvelous sweet sauce.

Noreen showed me the sisters’ two chapels:

The first was grand and silent.  The second would be my place of meditation.  Comfy.

When Noreen and I approached a doorway, she paused and extended her arm, inviting me to go ahead.  I have been well schooled in “Ladies first” so Noreen’s gesture took a few seconds for me to absorb.  But then it was “of course” … a request is made and that request is honoured.

In the bathroom, I discovered another reality: the toilet seat wouldn’t stay up.  I smiled.  Very few men grace the convent.

***

I was deeply included

I felt cared for

“Thank you for being here” roamed through my mind