It was through the coordination of a special nun that the CCD coordinators were organized. Our coordinator was Sister Claire Hudert. I loved her. We became friends outside of our religious duties. She invited me one time for tea at McDonalds and as we began to chat, she opened up to me that she didn't understand why the priests would sit around and complain about all the duties they had and needed help with when the nuns of this particular parish had repeatedly offered their services. Women weren't allowed.
|Sr. Claire Hudert OSB|
One time upon arriving to do one of these games, I hugged my male partner who I had recently helped recover from a serious car accident. I mean helped him, like carried him into the bathroom with the open robe in order to urinate help. I was so happy that he and I were going to officiate together but more importantly that he was given another opportunity to officiate by the grace of God. He had told me the story of how he pleaded with the paramedic before he passed out from the trauma of the car accident NOT TO CUT THE SHIRT. I've heard that more than one time by officials who have been in car accidents upon returning from officiating a contest while wearing their stripes.
When I got home from this game, my booking commissioner had called to ask me what happened when I arrived and how did I hug Kevin? What? Evidently a nun at the game thought I hugged him "too affectionately" and called him to complain about it.
I didn't hug him lustfully, it was with relief of knowing what he had gone through to get back on the court. Not only surviving the car accident and rehab but taking the blood thinners too. I thought why on earth would a nun think that hugging is inappropriate? Surely we teach children to love one another. I wasn't sexual in my contact with my partner at all. That disturbed me that her perception was this reality.
Sister Claire wasn't like that at all. She was kind, friendly and loved teaching the children about life and relationships. I was surprised when she was transferred back to the convent near my home town. We kept in touch and she invited me to go on a hunger walk when I was in town. I said sure not knowing what I was getting into. We ended up walking for over thirteen miles in silence to raise money for the hungry. We went back to the convent (now known as the Mount Saint Benedict Monastery) where we were ravished and ate fruit, cheese and soup. I had never done this and it was an experience. Imagine walking with hundreds of people and not saying a word for hours. Strange but fulfilling. Like basketball...being a part of something bigger than yourself.
|St. Benedict Statue|
Cheaper than bathroom deodorizers, matches will do the trick. I love that I learned this from a nun. Or if you prefer, a real live sister. But more importantly from Sister Claire who was a match herself. When you lit her up, she got rid of the odors. This is probably why they transferred her back to the convent from my college town to my home town which was two hours away. Oh and the Easter Vigil was something I will never forget. To hear all these female voices that were graced with divine beauty is really from another place...another place where smoke and fires don't exist.