CHAPTER 27 - PENNSYLVANIA
The postulant to monastic life was flustered, and this was rare for her. "I know it sounds ridiculous Brother Matthew, but that's what is on my heart and I thought I would share it with you before I went to the top, so to speak." Her composure was quickly returning and her joke about "the top" evidenced this.
"Sure, no problem. I understand. Do you have any more clarity than that on the danger Abbot Francis may be in?"
"I feel it has something to do with the Salesian parchments he is reading. It's almost as if that process is reactivating an old pattern. Our holy mother, St. Jane de Chantal, lost her husband in a shooting. Brother Francis was nearly killed in a shooting just about a year ago around Thanksgiving time. Our Abbot is half a world away and I think someone is after him there. Why the sacred letters of two spiritual friends would provoke such dangers is beyond me, but I suppose others have killed for less."
The young monk pondered this briefly. He initially thought that Clare might do well to talk to Sister Scholastica, who had been a CIA agent prior to becoming a nun. That in itself was unusual, but perhaps not so for their wonderful little monastery. Then he thought better of Clare talking with this woman. Sister Scholastica was cerebral, a kind of nuts and bolts person. "Why not simply share what's on your mind with our prioress, Sister Jane? I think Madam Wu would be an excellent resource as well, but we might do well to let Sister Jane make that call."
The prioress rocked in the creaky wooden rocker in the sun room. "How can I help you, dear? I've noticed that you seem a bit pensive these days. Community is here to help support you in both the joys and burdens of your life. If I can't be of help I'll find someone who can."
"I'm apprehensive about Brother Francis while on his present trip to China. When I pray I get a feeling that he is in danger. Perhaps I simply miss him, or it may just be my imagination, but I am relieved to be able to tell you about this." Clare seemed to melt back into the old orange wingback chair after she had spoken.
The prioress was a rather unflappable woman and she maintained her equanimity even now. "You know what, Madam Wu has been talking about having similar feelings. I don't have the kind of intuition the two of you appear to possess. May I see if I can round her up and have her join in on our conversation?"
The room was filled with sun but a cloud wandered through the sky and brought a momentary darkness. "I would like that very much, Sister."
It was Sunday afternoon, a day of rest, and Madam Wu had been napping. Though unusually neat even at home, her blond hair was now a bit askew, but her smile was as radiant as ever. "I'll sit on this wooden framed chair with aqua vinyl covering on the seat. It's a delight to see how you recycle everything, and hang onto old material things rather than discarding them simply because they are out of style. I must admit that I sometimes smile when I see how mismatched things are around here. The people, however, are all a wonderful match. Each person has his or her own unique personality and gifts, yet they somehow create a living mosaic.
Effie Wu looked directly at the postulant. "I do share your concerns, Clare. I think it has something to do with the four hundred year old Salesian parchments that Brother Francis is dealing with over there. It's as if they are a magnet attracting both danger and opportunity. As an aside, I understand that the Chinese characters for danger and opportunity, when used together, mean ‘crisis.’ Let’s hope that the opportunity aspect of that word dominates in this case. Chinese writing looks like so much chicken scratch to me, yet I admire the brains and hands that can write that way."
Clare began to smile just as Effie Wu had intended, and then she said, "That's exactly my sense too, Madam Wu--I mean the part about the parchments attracting both opportunity and danger."
The prioress momentarily reflected on what she was hearing. "What do we do next, girls?"