This article was printed in The Sunday Times just over a year ago.
A Life in the Day
Sister Mary Elisabeth
Interview by Caroline Macdougall
The 31-year-old is the youngest fully professed Carmelite nun in Britain. Formerly Lisa Tinkler, she lives with nine other nuns in the Carmelite convent in Darlington. They have a cat called Dom.
"I wake up at 5.30, when my alarm rings. All of us have to be up by 6am. I have a small cell with a single bed, and there's a sink, a bookshelf, a little stool and somewhere to store underclothes.
We're trained to give our first waking thoughts to God; that's what I try to do. Then I put on my habit. It's tricky getting your veil straight, with all the clips. After that, we have an hour of silent prayer. You can go to the garden, but I usually go to the chapel. Then we go to the refectory for breakfast. I have coffee with milk and a Sweetex; you can have cereal, or bread and butter. On a feast day we might have jam on toast. We eat in silence.
I tidy my cell before the first office of the day, which lasts half an hour. We recite three psalms and sing. Mass is at 8.30. There are places in the house where we can speak, but only necessary speaking, because that's part of our rule: solitude and silence. After mass and thanksgiving, it's work time: I design and print religious cards and I've got my own office. I use Photoshop, but I don't have internet. Only the prioress has that.
Lunch is at 11.30. We take turns reading from a book — at the moment it's a biography of the new Pope. It's full of German pronunciations — you make it up and hope everyone's too busy with their mashed potato to notice. I usually have fish, and there's a salad trolley. The prioress grows vegetables; we've started buying from Tesco on the internet.
I miss a long walk. I love expanses of space. Here there's always a door or a wall. We have two hours of recreation a day. I sometimes do yoga — I learnt it from a book, so I'm not very good. I'll walk in the garden or read National Geographic. It's also a time we can chat.
We're not usually allowed newspapers or TV, but for something important, like the London bombings, we go against the rule. We get prayer requests through the internet, and letters. I write to priests and to my parents — we're not really supposed to make personal calls.
From 1 to 3 it's very silent time, so you try to avoid meeting people. At 3pm we have tea. I have tea and a ginger biscuit. We have our own place settings in the refectory — it goes in order of who took their solemn vows last. That was me; I took mine in 2001.
I was 19 when I became a postulant. Nowadays we allow people to experience life before moving inside, but I didn't.
A school tutor advised me to see some sisters she knew. My mum was cooking chips one night when I said: "I'm going on retreat to the Carmelite convent in Reading." She said: "You better not come back with a veil on!" That night in Coronation Street, Ivy Tilsley said to her husband: "I'm going on retreat to a Carmelite convent." So I said: "You see, Mum? Everybody goes!"
I remember the last night with my mum clearly. We stayed in the lodge attached to the convent. She whispered: "Are you awake?" And I said: "Yeah." And then she said: "Come and give me a hug." The next day I went inside and the gates shut and that was it. I see my parents about four times a year now. And my sister, Sharon, comes with her little ones, Matthew and Katherine. My mum's accepted it now, and my dad is proud.
I grew up in Middlesbrough. My family didn't go to church, but from a very young age I felt a great pull towards Our Lady — a terrific sense of her presence.
I had this little picture of her I bought for 20p. And the first book I got with my own money was a Ladybird book about the Pope. If something came on TV about the church, my father would shout: "Your friends are on!" I'd say to my sister: "How do you fancy having a sister for a sister?" I felt it wasn't a choice I had to make: it had been made for me.
Once a year I go out to the opticians because I wear contact lenses. We get wolf whistles and people shout things like: "Nuns on the run!" People either put you on a pedestal and think you're not human or you're weird.
Occasionally we get schoolchildren visiting. You can spellbind a class of 16-year-olds when they ask, "Don't you watch Coronation Street?" and you say: "No." I explain our relationship with God by saying: "When you're in love with someone, you want to be with that person as much as possible, and you will sacrifice for them." Then they get an idea of what prayer is at a deeper level. It's not just asking for stuff.
We have supper at 6.15. It could be toast or a tin of beans, and we drink tea. At Christmas we'll have a glass of sherry, but normally we don't drink. We have another hour of recreation, and at 8.30 we have the last office of the day — we have seven in total. "Lauds" and "vespers" are the main ones. We have a final blessing, then the great silence begins. It's no talking, and we have to be as quiet as possible. It lasts till breakfast.
Between 9 and 10 I'll usually tidy my office and take a bath. I go to bed at about 10.30. I pray before I go to sleep, and I read. At the moment I'm reading The Way of the Pilgrim — a classic.
Things can be tough. Relationships can be stressful Š there are bound to be differences of opinion. But you can't harbour grudges: you wouldn't be trying to be a more Christ-like person. The hardest thing would be to have doubts about your faith. I never have. The only thing I've ever doubted is whether I'm worthy to be where I am. I think: "Gosh, it's such a high calling. Who am I?"
Full Version: Britain's Youngest Fully Professed Carmelite Nun
What a wonderful woman! I hope than many young Brits are moved by her example!
What a wonderful story! CARMELITES!! 
Interesting, the only Carmelites I've been fond of are Saint Theresa of Avila, and Saint Therese the Little Flower, and maybe a few others whose name I cant think of. 
In my quest to Carmelize phatmass, here is another beautiful article. 
I took it from the website of the Golders Green Carmel in London.
Sister Teresa and I sit on either side of the black grille that separates us, rather like a confessional. The grille is secured in the centre of the partitioning wall of two rooms. Visitors are not permitted any further than here and the chapel. There is a daily newspaper but no television or radio. Aside from a visit to the doctor or dentist, Sister Teresa and the 12 nuns of the Carmelite convent in Bridge Lane, Golders Green, rarely, if ever, leave the confines of the grounds. Don’t expect to see the nuns shopping at Tesco. The grocer, chemist and milkman all deliver. There is no noise. The nuns only speak to each other when necessary.
Sister Teresa of the Carmelites: “I miss many things. Travelling, the mountains, my family…”
Sister Teresa, 71, has been a Carmelite nun since 1952. A warm and unassuming woman, she dresses in the brown Carmelite habit. She greets her visitors like old friends whom she has not seen for ages.
“Of course it’s not easy and there are many things I miss. But it’s a life of devotion to God,” she says with a smile. “I miss travelling, mountains, beautiful scenery and of course my relatives.
“There has also been a time in my life when I miss not having a family of my own. But I made this my choice.”
This is one of the 22 remaining “enclosed” Carmelite convents in the UK. There used to be 39.
“The enclosure is not meant for security or to keep us in and others out. It’s a firm demarcation to provide us with a climate of prayer,” explains Sister Teresa. “Other convents are known as “apostolic” which means that the nuns have visible tasks such as teaching, nursing and social work. Their conditions and timetable are more flexible. Also they have a less institutionalised lifestyle. They’re outside meeting people, they’re more in touch with events and there’s a greater participation in the larger community. Our Order is based on a life of prayer.”
The Carmelite Order was brought to England from Lyons in France 150 years ago by a Jewish musician, Hermann Cohen, who converted to Catholicism. He opened the first Carmelite house in Kensington. The Carmelite nuns have been living alongside the Jewish community of Golders Green since 1908.
Sister Teresa says: “We see how assiduously they attend the synagogue and have a friendly interest in their customs. We feel an affinity in their worship and hope in the future to have closer relations and to understand their way of life.”
The most overwhelming feeling of tranquillity and serenity awaits visitors inside this Byzantine-style fronted convent. It’s white, scrupulously clean and the atmosphere is like manna from heaven. The silence surrounds you so peacefully, it feels as if it’s going through you.
The quadrangle building with a garden in the centre separates into four light and airy cloisters, with monastic-like arches throughout. One leads to a small room, where income is generated through making altar breads for many of the London Catholic churches.
Sister Mary, 73, looks after the baking. She explains: “It’s a paste made from water and flour which we sandwich and bake between two 18in hot plates. After a few seconds they are taken to a damping office, otherwise they become too dry and brittle for cutting. The altar breads are weighed in bags of 100 and dispatched in boxes of 1,000.” There are two breads, one the size of a 10p for parishioners and one slightly larger for the priest.
Another source of revenue until recently was the design and printing of greeting cards. A Heidelberg Press was installed when the convent won a contract to produce cards and gift tags for the Samuel Jones Butterfly Brand. Sister Teresa says: “We were like a little factory producing more than 25,000 quality cards every year. Eventually, the work became too pressurised and it took away our reason for being here.”
The printing press sits in an attic high in the eaves of the convent. To reach the attic you use a lift that sits out of place within one of the cloisters. It can only be described as an H.G. Wells time machine that you are more likely to get stuck than transported in. You don’t call the Fire Brigade if you’re trapped in it, though. “Don’t worry,” says Sister Teresa seriously, “if it breaks down there’s the emergency rope to pull us up.”
Another of the cloisters points to the “cells”. The nuns, who range in age from 35 to 85, sleep in rooms measuring 12ft by 8ft, each with a small bed, a chair and a locker.
The women, whose nationalities include English, Burmese and Korean, wake daily at 5.25am. In addition to prayers, they do housework, laundry and gardening.
The head of the convent is Sister Magdelen, 74. She is referred to as the Prioress, although in other convents she would be known as the Mother Superior. This is the only hierarchy within the Carmelites.
Between 9.30am and 10.30am every day of the year, the homeless and the needy gather outside the front door as they have done for almost 60 years and are given tea and sandwiches. Sister Teresa says: “They’re real characters, protective of each other. They’re mostly men whose lives altered through no fault of their own.”
The training with the Carmelite Sisters is similar to other convents. A year of “finding out” is followed by two years as a novice. After this they may take their first vows of poverty, chastity and obedience lasting three years. At the end of this time they are free to go or take their final vows, which represent a commitment for life.
“This is a difficult undertaking today. You need a certain amount of psychological balance to fit into enclosed life,” says Sister Teresa. “In the past, your hair was cut and this was symbolic of what you were leaving behind and what you were going forward to. It used to be a bridal ceremony in the chapel and afterwards in the enclosure you were given the habit. Nowadays, the habit is given privately within the enclosure.”
She admits that once you become a nun, you don’t become superhuman. “The way someone holds a soup spoon can drive you round the bend. Just as in marriage, you either say, ‘I’ve had enough of you,’ or you get beyond it.”
Living with a group of nuns can be as difficult as living in any community, she says. “Before I entered, I’d lived with people of my own age and shared interests. Then I became a nun and found that the greatest difficulty was living with people I hadn’t chosen to live with, or friends I wouldn’t have picked by choice.
“But the most important thing is that you learn about yourself by living in a certain solitude and with other people. It’s still my greatest difficulty but it’s a source of growth.
“It’s a wonderful place. A plumber came to work for us recently and he said to me: ‘Oh, it’s so quiet and calm here, I’d love to stay longer.’ I think he was quite envious really.”
I took it from the website of the Golders Green Carmel in London.Sister Teresa and I sit on either side of the black grille that separates us, rather like a confessional. The grille is secured in the centre of the partitioning wall of two rooms. Visitors are not permitted any further than here and the chapel. There is a daily newspaper but no television or radio. Aside from a visit to the doctor or dentist, Sister Teresa and the 12 nuns of the Carmelite convent in Bridge Lane, Golders Green, rarely, if ever, leave the confines of the grounds. Don’t expect to see the nuns shopping at Tesco. The grocer, chemist and milkman all deliver. There is no noise. The nuns only speak to each other when necessary.
Sister Teresa of the Carmelites: “I miss many things. Travelling, the mountains, my family…”
Sister Teresa, 71, has been a Carmelite nun since 1952. A warm and unassuming woman, she dresses in the brown Carmelite habit. She greets her visitors like old friends whom she has not seen for ages.
“Of course it’s not easy and there are many things I miss. But it’s a life of devotion to God,” she says with a smile. “I miss travelling, mountains, beautiful scenery and of course my relatives.
“There has also been a time in my life when I miss not having a family of my own. But I made this my choice.”
This is one of the 22 remaining “enclosed” Carmelite convents in the UK. There used to be 39.
“The enclosure is not meant for security or to keep us in and others out. It’s a firm demarcation to provide us with a climate of prayer,” explains Sister Teresa. “Other convents are known as “apostolic” which means that the nuns have visible tasks such as teaching, nursing and social work. Their conditions and timetable are more flexible. Also they have a less institutionalised lifestyle. They’re outside meeting people, they’re more in touch with events and there’s a greater participation in the larger community. Our Order is based on a life of prayer.”
The Carmelite Order was brought to England from Lyons in France 150 years ago by a Jewish musician, Hermann Cohen, who converted to Catholicism. He opened the first Carmelite house in Kensington. The Carmelite nuns have been living alongside the Jewish community of Golders Green since 1908.
Sister Teresa says: “We see how assiduously they attend the synagogue and have a friendly interest in their customs. We feel an affinity in their worship and hope in the future to have closer relations and to understand their way of life.”
The most overwhelming feeling of tranquillity and serenity awaits visitors inside this Byzantine-style fronted convent. It’s white, scrupulously clean and the atmosphere is like manna from heaven. The silence surrounds you so peacefully, it feels as if it’s going through you.
The quadrangle building with a garden in the centre separates into four light and airy cloisters, with monastic-like arches throughout. One leads to a small room, where income is generated through making altar breads for many of the London Catholic churches.
Sister Mary, 73, looks after the baking. She explains: “It’s a paste made from water and flour which we sandwich and bake between two 18in hot plates. After a few seconds they are taken to a damping office, otherwise they become too dry and brittle for cutting. The altar breads are weighed in bags of 100 and dispatched in boxes of 1,000.” There are two breads, one the size of a 10p for parishioners and one slightly larger for the priest.
Another source of revenue until recently was the design and printing of greeting cards. A Heidelberg Press was installed when the convent won a contract to produce cards and gift tags for the Samuel Jones Butterfly Brand. Sister Teresa says: “We were like a little factory producing more than 25,000 quality cards every year. Eventually, the work became too pressurised and it took away our reason for being here.”
The printing press sits in an attic high in the eaves of the convent. To reach the attic you use a lift that sits out of place within one of the cloisters. It can only be described as an H.G. Wells time machine that you are more likely to get stuck than transported in. You don’t call the Fire Brigade if you’re trapped in it, though. “Don’t worry,” says Sister Teresa seriously, “if it breaks down there’s the emergency rope to pull us up.”
Another of the cloisters points to the “cells”. The nuns, who range in age from 35 to 85, sleep in rooms measuring 12ft by 8ft, each with a small bed, a chair and a locker.
The women, whose nationalities include English, Burmese and Korean, wake daily at 5.25am. In addition to prayers, they do housework, laundry and gardening.
The head of the convent is Sister Magdelen, 74. She is referred to as the Prioress, although in other convents she would be known as the Mother Superior. This is the only hierarchy within the Carmelites.
Between 9.30am and 10.30am every day of the year, the homeless and the needy gather outside the front door as they have done for almost 60 years and are given tea and sandwiches. Sister Teresa says: “They’re real characters, protective of each other. They’re mostly men whose lives altered through no fault of their own.”
The training with the Carmelite Sisters is similar to other convents. A year of “finding out” is followed by two years as a novice. After this they may take their first vows of poverty, chastity and obedience lasting three years. At the end of this time they are free to go or take their final vows, which represent a commitment for life.
“This is a difficult undertaking today. You need a certain amount of psychological balance to fit into enclosed life,” says Sister Teresa. “In the past, your hair was cut and this was symbolic of what you were leaving behind and what you were going forward to. It used to be a bridal ceremony in the chapel and afterwards in the enclosure you were given the habit. Nowadays, the habit is given privately within the enclosure.”
She admits that once you become a nun, you don’t become superhuman. “The way someone holds a soup spoon can drive you round the bend. Just as in marriage, you either say, ‘I’ve had enough of you,’ or you get beyond it.”
Living with a group of nuns can be as difficult as living in any community, she says. “Before I entered, I’d lived with people of my own age and shared interests. Then I became a nun and found that the greatest difficulty was living with people I hadn’t chosen to live with, or friends I wouldn’t have picked by choice.
“But the most important thing is that you learn about yourself by living in a certain solitude and with other people. It’s still my greatest difficulty but it’s a source of growth.
“It’s a wonderful place. A plumber came to work for us recently and he said to me: ‘Oh, it’s so quiet and calm here, I’d love to stay longer.’ I think he was quite envious really.”
A girl from my highschool entered the Carmelite convent with perpetual adoration in Saint Louis at age 19 two years ago, she just took the habit i month ago.
Go Carmelites!!!!
I love St. Therese of Lisieux!!!!
She is why I hang out in the vocation station
I haven't decided whether that is good or not!!!
but that is great for Sister Mary Elisabeth!!!!!!!
I love St. Therese of Lisieux!!!!
She is why I hang out in the vocation station
I haven't decided whether that is good or not!!!
but that is great for Sister Mary Elisabeth!!!!!!!
QUOTE(Domine ut Videam @ Oct 27 2006, 03:11 PM) [snapback]1102540[/snapback]
A girl from my highschool entered the Carmelite convent with perpetual adoration in Saint Louis at age 19 two years ago, she just took the habit i month ago.
Hey I know her (well, ok, I've seen her at the Carmel and I've met her sister and her parents
)!I was sorry to have to miss her reception of the habit, I was out of town
Thanks for sharing the articles!
This is So beautiful, Thank you for sharing!
This article was printed in The Sunday Times just over a year ago.
A Life in the Day
Sister Mary Elisabeth
Interview by Caroline Macdougall
The 31-year-old is the youngest fully professed Carmelite nun in Britain. Formerly Lisa Tinkler, she lives with nine other nuns in the Carmelite convent in Darlington. They have a cat called Dom.
"I wake up at 5.30, when my alarm rings. All of us have to be up by 6am. I have a small cell with a single bed, and there's a sink, a bookshelf, a little stool and somewhere to store underclothes.
We're trained to give our first waking thoughts to God; that's what I try to do. Then I put on my habit. It's tricky getting your veil straight, with all the clips. After that, we have an hour of silent prayer. You can go to the garden, but I usually go to the chapel. Then we go to the refectory for breakfast. I have coffee with milk and a Sweetex; you can have cereal, or bread and butter. On a feast day we might have jam on toast. We eat in silence.
I tidy my cell before the first office of the day, which lasts half an hour. We recite three psalms and sing. Mass is at 8.30. There are places in the house where we can speak, but only necessary speaking, because that's part of our rule: solitude and silence. After mass and thanksgiving, it's work time: I design and print religious cards and I've got my own office. I use Photoshop, but I don't have internet. Only the prioress has that.
Lunch is at 11.30. We take turns reading from a book — at the moment it's a biography of the new Pope. It's full of German pronunciations — you make it up and hope everyone's too busy with their mashed potato to notice. I usually have fish, and there's a salad trolley. The prioress grows vegetables; we've started buying from Tesco on the internet.
I miss a long walk. I love expanses of space. Here there's always a door or a wall. We have two hours of recreation a day. I sometimes do yoga — I learnt it from a book, so I'm not very good. I'll walk in the garden or read National Geographic. It's also a time we can chat.
We're not usually allowed newspapers or TV, but for something important, like the London bombings, we go against the rule. We get prayer requests through the internet, and letters. I write to priests and to my parents — we're not really supposed to make personal calls.
From 1 to 3 it's very silent time, so you try to avoid meeting people. At 3pm we have tea. I have tea and a ginger biscuit. We have our own place settings in the refectory — it goes in order of who took their solemn vows last. That was me; I took mine in 2001.
I was 19 when I became a postulant. Nowadays we allow people to experience life before moving inside, but I didn't.
A school tutor advised me to see some sisters she knew. My mum was cooking chips one night when I said: "I'm going on retreat to the Carmelite convent in Reading." She said: "You better not come back with a veil on!" That night in Coronation Street, Ivy Tilsley said to her husband: "I'm going on retreat to a Carmelite convent." So I said: "You see, Mum? Everybody goes!"
I remember the last night with my mum clearly. We stayed in the lodge attached to the convent. She whispered: "Are you awake?" And I said: "Yeah." And then she said: "Come and give me a hug." The next day I went inside and the gates shut and that was it. I see my parents about four times a year now. And my sister, Sharon, comes with her little ones, Matthew and Katherine. My mum's accepted it now, and my dad is proud.
I grew up in Middlesbrough. My family didn't go to church, but from a very young age I felt a great pull towards Our Lady — a terrific sense of her presence.
I had this little picture of her I bought for 20p. And the first book I got with my own money was a Ladybird book about the Pope. If something came on TV about the church, my father would shout: "Your friends are on!" I'd say to my sister: "How do you fancy having a sister for a sister?" I felt it wasn't a choice I had to make: it had been made for me.
Once a year I go out to the opticians because I wear contact lenses. We get wolf whistles and people shout things like: "Nuns on the run!" People either put you on a pedestal and think you're not human or you're weird.
Occasionally we get schoolchildren visiting. You can spellbind a class of 16-year-olds when they ask, "Don't you watch Coronation Street?" and you say: "No." I explain our relationship with God by saying: "When you're in love with someone, you want to be with that person as much as possible, and you will sacrifice for them." Then they get an idea of what prayer is at a deeper level. It's not just asking for stuff.
We have supper at 6.15. It could be toast or a tin of beans, and we drink tea. At Christmas we'll have a glass of sherry, but normally we don't drink. We have another hour of recreation, and at 8.30 we have the last office of the day — we have seven in total. "Lauds" and "vespers" are the main ones. We have a final blessing, then the great silence begins. It's no talking, and we have to be as quiet as possible. It lasts till breakfast.
Between 9 and 10 I'll usually tidy my office and take a bath. I go to bed at about 10.30. I pray before I go to sleep, and I read. At the moment I'm reading The Way of the Pilgrim — a classic.
Things can be tough. Relationships can be stressful Š there are bound to be differences of opinion. But you can't harbour grudges: you wouldn't be trying to be a more Christ-like person. The hardest thing would be to have doubts about your faith. I never have. The only thing I've ever doubted is whether I'm worthy to be where I am. I think: "Gosh, it's such a high calling. Who am I?"
QUOTE(Cathoholic Anonymous @ Oct 26 2006, 11:01 AM) [snapback]1101493[/snapback]
This article was printed in The Sunday Times just over a year ago.
A Life in the Day
Sister Mary Elisabeth
Interview by Caroline Macdougall
The 31-year-old is the youngest fully professed Carmelite nun in Britain. Formerly Lisa Tinkler, she lives with nine other nuns in the Carmelite convent in Darlington. They have a cat called Dom.
"I wake up at 5.30, when my alarm rings. All of us have to be up by 6am. I have a small cell with a single bed, and there's a sink, a bookshelf, a little stool and somewhere to store underclothes.
We're trained to give our first waking thoughts to God; that's what I try to do. Then I put on my habit. It's tricky getting your veil straight, with all the clips. After that, we have an hour of silent prayer. You can go to the garden, but I usually go to the chapel. Then we go to the refectory for breakfast. I have coffee with milk and a Sweetex; you can have cereal, or bread and butter. On a feast day we might have jam on toast. We eat in silence.
I tidy my cell before the first office of the day, which lasts half an hour. We recite three psalms and sing. Mass is at 8.30. There are places in the house where we can speak, but only necessary speaking, because that's part of our rule: solitude and silence. After mass and thanksgiving, it's work time: I design and print religious cards and I've got my own office. I use Photoshop, but I don't have internet. Only the prioress has that.
Lunch is at 11.30. We take turns reading from a book — at the moment it's a biography of the new Pope. It's full of German pronunciations — you make it up and hope everyone's too busy with their mashed potato to notice. I usually have fish, and there's a salad trolley. The prioress grows vegetables; we've started buying from Tesco on the internet.
I miss a long walk. I love expanses of space. Here there's always a door or a wall. We have two hours of recreation a day. I sometimes do yoga — I learnt it from a book, so I'm not very good. I'll walk in the garden or read National Geographic. It's also a time we can chat.
We're not usually allowed newspapers or TV, but for something important, like the London bombings, we go against the rule. We get prayer requests through the internet, and letters. I write to priests and to my parents — we're not really supposed to make personal calls.
From 1 to 3 it's very silent time, so you try to avoid meeting people. At 3pm we have tea. I have tea and a ginger biscuit. We have our own place settings in the refectory — it goes in order of who took their solemn vows last. That was me; I took mine in 2001.
I was 19 when I became a postulant. Nowadays we allow people to experience life before moving inside, but I didn't.
A school tutor advised me to see some sisters she knew. My mum was cooking chips one night when I said: "I'm going on retreat to the Carmelite convent in Reading." She said: "You better not come back with a veil on!" That night in Coronation Street, Ivy Tilsley said to her husband: "I'm going on retreat to a Carmelite convent." So I said: "You see, Mum? Everybody goes!"
I remember the last night with my mum clearly. We stayed in the lodge attached to the convent. She whispered: "Are you awake?" And I said: "Yeah." And then she said: "Come and give me a hug." The next day I went inside and the gates shut and that was it. I see my parents about four times a year now. And my sister, Sharon, comes with her little ones, Matthew and Katherine. My mum's accepted it now, and my dad is proud.
I grew up in Middlesbrough. My family didn't go to church, but from a very young age I felt a great pull towards Our Lady — a terrific sense of her presence.
I had this little picture of her I bought for 20p. And the first book I got with my own money was a Ladybird book about the Pope. If something came on TV about the church, my father would shout: "Your friends are on!" I'd say to my sister: "How do you fancy having a sister for a sister?" I felt it wasn't a choice I had to make: it had been made for me.
Once a year I go out to the opticians because I wear contact lenses. We get wolf whistles and people shout things like: "Nuns on the run!" People either put you on a pedestal and think you're not human or you're weird.
Occasionally we get schoolchildren visiting. You can spellbind a class of 16-year-olds when they ask, "Don't you watch Coronation Street?" and you say: "No." I explain our relationship with God by saying: "When you're in love with someone, you want to be with that person as much as possible, and you will sacrifice for them." Then they get an idea of what prayer is at a deeper level. It's not just asking for stuff.
We have supper at 6.15. It could be toast or a tin of beans, and we drink tea. At Christmas we'll have a glass of sherry, but normally we don't drink. We have another hour of recreation, and at 8.30 we have the last office of the day — we have seven in total. "Lauds" and "vespers" are the main ones. We have a final blessing, then the great silence begins. It's no talking, and we have to be as quiet as possible. It lasts till breakfast.
Between 9 and 10 I'll usually tidy my office and take a bath. I go to bed at about 10.30. I pray before I go to sleep, and I read. At the moment I'm reading The Way of the Pilgrim — a classic.
Things can be tough. Relationships can be stressful Š there are bound to be differences of opinion. But you can't harbour grudges: you wouldn't be trying to be a more Christ-like person. The hardest thing would be to have doubts about your faith. I never have. The only thing I've ever doubted is whether I'm worthy to be where I am. I think: "Gosh, it's such a high calling. Who am I?"
QUOTE(Domine ut Videam @ Oct 27 2006, 02:11 PM) [snapback]1102540[/snapback]
A girl from my highschool entered the Carmelite convent with perpetual adoration in Saint Louis at age 19 two years ago, she just took the habit i month ago.
I just want to say a big sorry to all, if I've been rather annoying at times with my talking so much about the 1990/1991 Constitutions. No one said anything, I just thought this to myself. I just wanted to share this information with everyone, as it's a pretty big piece of recent Carmelite history among the nuns. But really St. Louis is a great community! Again, the special thing about their adoration is so great - to have a true Carmel, but also a lot of adoration.
They have a beautiful old chapel and monastery. Actually I don't believe their adoration is perpetual, but from 7 am - 8 pm daily, which is a lot! I talked for a while with a sister there from RI, Sr. Mary Grace. She was very inspiring. They make the most beautiful looking Christmas enrollment cards that I've ever seen! Each one is handmade and they're incredibly old-fashioned looking. I'm sure they make other enrollment cards too. If you ask them, they'll show you a display of all their different cards. They also harvest honey, and sell it there (the Srs of St. John do too, in Princeville
) I just found a new site of their's. They had a different one, but maybe this is their new one - Carmel of St. Joseph in St. Louis, MO
And here are a couple scans of postcards from there:
The public & private sides of the church with expostition.
It looks like they have a much prettier light for the nun's choir chapel now, too (from their site) - http://web.mac.com/stl_ocds/iWeb/Carmel/Wh...s%20Carmel.html
And an aerial view, wow!
Talk about "Carmelizing" us - it's working! 
In my quest to Carmelize phatmass, here is another beautiful article. I took it from the website of the Golders Green Carmel in London.
QUOTE(Cathoholic Anonymous @ Oct 27 2006, 01:50 PM) [snapback]1102476[/snapback]
In my quest to Carmelize phatmass, here is another beautiful article.
I took it from the website of the Golders Green Carmel in London.
Oh, how I wish I wanted to
I want to want to... because I so love the person who would be my novice mistress then! (Which isn't very hard, by the way.)
But no. Not for me.
I want to want to... because I so love the person who would be my novice mistress then! (Which isn't very hard, by the way.)
But no. Not for me.
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