Sister Elenita

There is a feeling of sheer terror, without virtue or reason, which comes over when you believe you are in danger of being mauled by a weasel.  I can still remember days when I was the first to arrive at the lab, cracking the large wooden door open just enough to peer in and gauge my chances of survival. 

I was about 10 and a half when I landed my job in the high school biology laboratory. I remember there were lots of large, almost floor to ceiling windows in the room so every day seemed bright and sunny; but in addition, the job was fun.  I learned a lot about animals, fossils, plants and just about everything that had to do with biology.  What I think really made this job nice, was how I felt so welcomed every day by Sister Elenita, the high school biology teacher. Without a doubt she was the nicest nun I had ever met.  She exuded warmth, kindness, and acceptance like I had never seen or experienced before.

Sister Elenita kept a weasel in a cage in the lab… not a bunny, not a hamster, not a guinea pig, a large weasel.  It terrified me.  I once saw it eat a mouse… an image that stuck in my head. So in my 10 year old mind, it was not a giant leap for me to think that it could somehow get out of it cage at night and be waiting for what unfortunate soul came sauntering into the classroom first in the morning.  I’ll be honest; I did not want to go out that way. So before I entered the room I would always check to see if the weasel was in its cage. I would slowly crack open the door and look and always felt relieved it was still caged in.  Only then would life go on as normal.

Life at Maryville had a strange flow to it.  Mundane boredom, hardship, and loneliness were sporadically interrupted by church and school run events. Every year there was an indoor fair at Maryville.  On display were crafts and other creations done by the high school students.  As a result, the higher ups at Maryville decided only high school students would attend the fair. It would have been educational and a lot of fun for the younger children, but that never seemed to be of paramount importance at Maryville.  One day while working in the biology lab, Sister Elenita approached me and said she understood two of my older sisters were going to put on a big display at the fair and she asked if I would like to attend and see my sisters’ event.  I told her I would love to.  She said she would check and try and get permission for me to attend the fair.  I was ecstatic.

She received permission for me to attend. That night I left Isabelle Hall and walked over to the gym where the fair was being held.  I walked in, I felt so grown up and very special.  But as usual this happiness was not to last.  Within seconds of my arrival, Sister Madelyn, my home room nun, came up to me and asked, “What are you doing here?”  I told her I had received permission to attend so that I could see my sisters’ event. Looking disgustedly at me, she told me to leave immediately and go back to my hall.  I was crushed; Sister Madelyn had a talent for that.

The next morning, feeling absolutely robbed, I went back to work at the biology lab and saw Sister Elenita sitting behind her desk.  She said “Come here Genevieve... I heard what happened last night and I am very sorry.”  She followed with “I have a surprise for you.”  With that she pulled out a foot long pencil (yes an exceptionally oversized righting utensil) and handed it to me. She said, “I hope this makes you feel better.”  There are certain moments in your life when you just absolutely need someone to tell you that things will be ok.  Sister Elenita was there for me when I needed her.  In the end, it had nothing to do with the gigantic pencil or the fact that I knew the weasel was firmly secured (which was still a relief). What really made me feel better was her sensitivity and kindness.  I think of her often.  

 

   

     

Goodbye To Tonsils

I don’t remember being sick very often in the five years I was at Maryville.  It was likely because we were so isolated and not exposed to everything like kids in the city. In addition to the isolation, all the children had to be inoculated against a bevy of childhood diseases and illnesses, further lowering our chances of getting sick. When I arrived at Maryville the one ailment I did often have was a sore throat. Today when kids have sore throats, they are given antibiotics but, when I was a kid, it was customary to have your tonsils removed.  So because of my sore throats, it was decided I would have my tonsils taken out.

One day I was put in a van along with another little boy and we were driven to St Francis Hospital in Evanston to have our tonsils removed.  After arriving at the hospital I was put in a room, given a gown and told to undress and to put the gown on.  I looked at the gown and didn’t see any bottom, just a top – so I stood there until the nurse came back.  I looked at her and said “I usually put my bottoms on first;” she snickered and said “Oh honey there is no bottom.”  With that she put her hands on the bottom of my dress and lifted my dress and undershirt off of me and I was standing there nude in front of a total stranger and I felt completely humiliated.  I was extremely angry she had done that without any warning or without my consent.  Shortly after that the nurse returned and told me the little boy who had arrived with me was being sent back to Maryville because he had developed a fever – I prayed that I too would develop a fever, but no such luck.

Soon a gurney arrived and I was transferred on to it.  I was taken down a long corridor to the operating room. While being pushed down the hall I asked “Is my Mother here?”  The nurse replied, “No, she is not here.” With that I was pushed into the operating room and standing there were many strangers and I was very frightened.  A Doctor approached me and told me I was going to be put to sleep.  With that a glove of some type was put over my nose and mouth and I panicked.  I tried to get the glove off my face, I was frantic, and I didn’t know what was happening.  A number of people came over tried to restrain me and as I was being held down I could hear the ether coming into my nose and mouth.  I don’t remember anything else. 

When I woke up I was back in my hospital room, my throat was very sore and my Mother was standing next to me. I looked at her, I was happy to see her, but I felt she was just a little late. I needed her earlier; she could have helped me undress and maybe reassured me that everything was going to be all right but she was not there when I needed her…sort of how things always went with her.