One of the things we enjoy at the convent is the gentle sense of humor. Nuns may have serious work to do, but they enjoy the antics of their goats, good jokes, and the quirks of human nature. They share smiles easily.
A precious memory is from enough years ago that we hope won’t embarrass the granddaughter involved, if she reads this.
We took three grandchildren with us on a three-week camping trip from Idaho into Montana, Alberta, and British Columbia, including a few days at the convent with Sister Mary. We hadn’t realized that the older one had entered adolescence with a vengeance, and by the time we reached the convent she was in full 13-year-old rebellion. During an argument—we don’t remember what it was about—she sat in our van pouting and threatening to run away. The Mother Superior, who has a background of musical education as well as an opera-quality voice now dedicated to singing in worship, leaned into the window and sang, in that same lovely tone and with perfect pitch (maybe the only time this has ever been sung in pitch!), “Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I’m going to go out and eat worms; little tiny stringy ones, big fat juicy ones…”
I don’t remember the immediate outcome, but we all survived the trip.
On this visit, we were reminiscing with our Sister Mary and discussing education. She told of a math-for-non-majors class in college—the only mathematics she truly enjoyed—and the professor whose test pm mathematical logic included the question, “How many legs does a cow have?”
The correct answer is, “Six. Two hind legs, and forelegs in front.”