At the Abbey of Regina Laudis, Part Three

     The guests at the Abbey of Regina Laudis are invited to help the nuns with various chores on the property. This is another Benedictine tradition. It isn't required of the guests, but most do it gladly. I myself was eager to experience firsthand what working at the abbey was like.
     Continuing from my journal:

    
     29 January 2007    The sun is bright, but there is a bitter wind, the kind that knocks the very breath out of you. I was supposed to have worked outside this morning clipping bracken with Sr. Esther, but she decided it was too cold, so we worked in one of the greenhouses instead, weeding, dead-heading, and pruning. Sr. Esther is a jolly soul, a former psychotherapist.
     Dinner and supper are provided in the women guests' refectory, an incredibly tight space into which are crammed two wooden tables and stools rather than chairs, the reason for which is, I assume, that chairbacks would only make it more crowded. In the corner of the room is a sort of booth through which the serving sister hands out the food on pottery made at the abbey, from which we help ourselves family-style.
     The noon meal was very merry. It was me, M., and a 60-something woman, B., who apparently is a regular visitor/helper. I'm not quite sure how all that works. The abbey seems to have quite an extended "family" among the local lay people.  B. spent this morning in the dairy, helping to separate the cheese from the milk, or curd from whey, I don't know. This afternoon I will be helping to wash wool recently shorn from the abbey's sheep. There seem to be so many chores to do; but what do I know? I'm a City Mouse.
     I forgot to mention the thing Mother Noella said to me yesterday that made the biggest impression: that whatever your particular gift is, the community encourages you to be the best at it. No false modesty here!
     P. M.    What a wonderful time I had! Sr. Jadwiga took me first to the weaving studio where we cleaned some freshly shorn wool from a ewe named Ochette. Rather than subject the wool to a harsh mechanical or chemical process, they pick out the bits of grass and hay by hand. A painstaking chore that must require an enormous amount of time; but Sister said it's worth it, and besides, it's much more monastic. My hands were coated with lanolin by the time we finished.
     We then went to the sheepfold to feed the rams, then to the sheepfarm to feed the ewes and lambs -- and the llama, Giselle. Sister told me that sheep don't take to people right away, and was surprised that they came right up to me, even the shyest. I mixed and put out their grain, then for dessert Sister gave me "treats" to feed them by hand. Not satisfied with that, however, they took turns sniffing my pockets and nibbling the snaps; they even started nibbling the velcro on my boots! Silly sheep. Giselle, the llama, is very stand-offish; it seems the more you ignore her, the friendlier she'll be, but if you rush the relationship it scares her off. Just like some people.
     I met the woman who is discerning a vocation here, N. She had been away for the weekend. By coincidence, she also lived in Houston for a number of years, working for British Petroleum. She has already visited the abbey several times and this current and final visit began way back in October! So the "screening process" is indeed very arduous.

     30 January 2007    The walk up the hill to Jesu Fili Mariae chapel is steep, but I enjoy it. Unlike Lufkin, however, I can't walk and look around me at the same time, the path here being very narrow and riddled with stones and roots. If I want to enjoy the scenery, I have to stop; whereas, in Lufkin, the paths are wide and manicured, with no danger of tripping up.
     I should be glad to come back to the abbey in late spring, when I can fully delight in the woods and birds. The woods on the lower part of the property (the public part) have but few evergreens, so everything is grey and brown and bare. But last evening on our way to Vespers, Sr. Hedwige decided to take a shorcut to the chapel, through the enclosure. She drove through a long "avenue" of pines, part of the original property given Lady Abbess Duss to found the abbey. (I don't suppose the gentleman donor was of dubious profession, as was the one in Come to the Stable, the film based on the story of Regina Laudis' founding!) There are pines all around the top of the hill.


To be continued . . . .