CHAPTER 11
Brother Benedict’s extensive and angry-looking surgical wounds were healing. Pleasant Valley Manor was a much easier placement for everyone concerned—including the woman stepping off the plane at the Lehigh Valley International Airport. Her dark and round Jackie O. glasses shielded her eyes from the sun and surrounded her in an aura of mystery. Her large-brimmed blue hat added to the effect.
She rescued her small suitcase from the conveyer belt at Baggage Claim and hopped into a cab with the practiced ease of a seasoned traveler. In forty-five minutes the mystery woman was paying the cabbie and walking through the automatic glass doors of Pleasant Valley Manor.
Her attitude became more pastoral as she transitioned from the role of traveler to that of a hospital visitor. “May I visit with Brother Benedict please? I understand that he was recently transferred here.”
“Certainly, but do you have his family name so that I can look his room number up on the computer and let him know that you are here Ms….?”
“Of course. Let’s see. It’s been a while since…. Kelly, that’s it, Kelly!” she said with triumph. “it is now Brother Benedict Kelly.” Memories of their early years flooded into her mind. Their mutual decision to go their separate ways was right for both of them, but also bitter-sweet.
“Your name again?”
“Oh yes. Can you just say an old friend is here to visit? We told one another long ago that if the other was in need that ‘an old friend’ would be a little code phrase we would use. One never knows.”
The receptionist looked a little stunned but had seen many strange events in her work at the Manor and smiled wanly. Then she nodded to the visitor, looked up Brother Benedict’s room number and went off to tell him about the mysterious visitor who wheeled a floral suitcase behind her.
The receptionist returned. Her face said it all. “Brother Benedict is delighted that you are here. Just give the nurses a few minutes to make him a bit more presentable. He’s rather weak and not at his best, just so you know.”
The blue hat bobbed up and down. “I expected as much. Thank you for your kindness. May God bless you.” She sat down on the less than comfortable couch in the lobby and drifted into a light sleep almost instantly. A nurse in a white smock with pink hearts all over it touched her hand.
“You can visit with Brother now, ma’am. He’s really perked up since learning that you are here.”
“Thank you so much, nurse. I admire your profession greatly. It seems to me that doctors sort of ‘do it and run.’ You folks stay in for the long haul and are on the front lines.”
“We all do what we can. Please follow me.”
She lifted herself up off the couch with some effort, fighting against jet lag, general fatigue, and a headache. They walked down a hallway with large windows which flooded the building with sunlight. The place did not have the often encountered smell of strong disinfectant straining to mask foul odors. Perhaps the sunlight helped. Her stomach tightened. This probably would be the last time she would ever see George.
The nurse stopped at a doorway and nodded her head toward someone lying in a bed within the room and hurried off to her many other duties. Obviously she had slowed down her pace out of consideration for the visitor but now it was time to pick up the tempo again.
He was railing thin but his smile was a sure sign that she had been lead to the right person. “Hello George, or shall I call you Benedict? Are you reasonably comfortable? Can I do anything for you??
“Yes,” he murmured weakly, “Hush up. I’m as good as can be expected and much better now that you have come to visit. It’s just the way we said it would be when we parted over twenty years ago. Even though we dated, we both knew that our vocations lay elsewhere—mine in monastic life—and yours using the gifts God gave you.”
She took his emaciated hand in hers. It was bruised from medical puncture wounds. “Of course, dear old friend. I’ve kept an eye on you over the years. Abbot Francis saw to it that I remained on the monastery mailing list so I received a newsletter about the community twice a year. I was with you in spirit with every step you took on your monastic journey, from Postulancy through Solemn Profession.”
“It’s about time for me to go to glory old girl. You’ve got work to do here yet but I believe that mine is completed.” He smiled wistfully.
“I tend to agree dear Brother. Please remember me to our Good God, and please tell me if I can do anything to ease your transition.”
“You can my dear. You may remember how very much I love the Liturgy of the Hours, the prayers monks and nuns chant in the monastery or sometimes say privately. Even when said alone, they are the public prayer of the Church and we celebrate the Hours in the name of the entire world, remembering the needs of all God’s people.”
“I do indeed. It’s one of the things that attracted you to monastic life and, in a sense, away from me.” She teared up. “It was right, however. We both followed the paths we were led to and no one can do better than that.”
“Quite so. It’s moving toward sunset and so am I. My eyes and mind are tired, not to mention even my arms. Will you pick up that Office book on the windowsill and pray Vespers out loud so that I might join you in spirit?”
“I would consider it an honor and will do so with great joy.”
She fumbled with the four brightly colored ribbons which served as book markers. She found the right marker for Sunday Evening Prayer I of Week I in the four week cycle of prayer services. The Solemnity of Sunday actually begins on Saturday evening, a tradition inherited from those of the Jewish tradition. Their Saturday Sabbath begins on Friday evening.
She whispered the opening verses with a jumble of feelings. “O God come to my assistance. O Lord make haste to help me.”
The dying monk made the sign of the cross over himself as is the custom during the opening verses of each Hour or part of the Divine Office. His friend continued on through the recitation of three parts of the psalmody and a reading from the late Trappist monk Thomas Merton. Intercessions for the needs of the world, both local and beyond, were prayed. Mary’s Song of Praise from the Gospel of Luke was recited in thanksgiving for the graces of the day just passing into evening.
She dabbed behind her Jackie O. glasses with a tissue as she completed the simple service about fifteen minutes later by praying a final blessing. “May our Good God bless us and our world, protect us as we strive to protect others, and bring us all together one day with the Risen Christ forever. Amen.”
Brother Benedict had silently made his transition.