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Growing up in a small village in the mountains of Austria, I was raised Roman Catholic. We went to church on Sunday, because everyone else went to church. My grandma carved a cross on the back of every freshly baked bread loaf before she cut into it, and we bent our heads down before we ate, to either quietly say grace or give others the time to do so.
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When I mention that I was raised by nuns people look at me funny, like I just confessed that I grew up with wolves. It’s true though, I spent ten years in a boarding school that was part of a convent of the Salesian Sisters.
The election of the Pope begins tomorrow and Francis’ succession is still considered open. The choice of the name of a new pope is also eagerly awaited because the name says a lot about the agenda of the NEW ONE.
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Today in the morning I smiled when I got ready for the day and it took me by surprise. I felt calm. So much has changed in such a short time. I had no idea how frustrated and hopeless I had felt until it all went away.
We all have childhood memories triggered by certain smells from a kitchen or the sight of a dish we haven’t seen in a long time. I am no exception. I love the smell of roasted chestnuts or freshly baked apple pie like everybody else. But in my case, it’s much simpler. There is no smell, no sight of cake, torte, or roast that transports me back to my childhood as quickly as a jar of chocolate spread.
I watched the news last night, saw the pictures of our “new” old schools and I while I am glad they made them safer, I feel saddened at the same time. Many of the schools now look like prisons. The school shootings have left marks. Locked and guarded doors, steel walls, double entrees and armed security guards on duty are now the norm in many schools.
“Where do animals go?” That was one of the main questions I asked when I was a child, “Do they go to heaven too?”
I remember the last day in school, like it was yesterday -it was 35 years ago. I had spent the last 9 years here at the boarding school, so far away from home and it felt bitter sweet. We all were excited, children and adults were running around like chickens. It was time for our theater play, afterwards the nuns and our choir would sing for the last time, before it was time to part.