Habit

 

              Habit...no not that meaning...

                    I'm writing about a nun's uniform...The habit.


When I was going to change schools I begged my parents to send me to Catholic school. You see, I was bullied all throughout elementary school and I feared that it would get worse. 

My parents agreed and so I attended Catholic school.

The nuns wore something like this.

                                     
                                                             source


When I was little I toyed around with the idea of becoming a nun. I think It was because of the movie The Bells of Saint Mary.

                                          Ingrid Bergman looked so beautiful and she was so kind and tough when she needed to be.
                                            

I was never scared of nuns even when they wore the black habit covering everything but their faces.

I was never afraid ...until.

I went from being afraid of bullies to having a bully for a teacher.
I was scared to death of her.
She was mean.
and yelled a lot.
She made it a point to humiliate students.

Reviewing homework in class was where my anxiety would reach it's peak. There was so much homework and more often than not I would be up until 11pm trying to finish it. Many many times I just couldn't. All the other kids seemed to be just used to the load, but I sure as heck wasn't.

She would make the dreaded announcement and everyone would take out their homework. She would walk up and down the aisles looking down at our work as the students would take turns answering each question. 

Now and then she would pick up a child's notebook and criticize their penmanship or the fact that the page was ripped or she looked at a child and comment that there was something wrong with their uniform or if their hair was unkempt.  Once she made a boy stand in front of class and asked him why his hair had not been cut yet.

"My, mom has been busy Sister, she's been working overtime, she couldn't take me"

She answered " If you dare come into school tomorrow like that, I'll cut it myself!!!"

She meant it

He was absent the next day.

Even though I was so happy all my friends from our neighborhood church attended that school, I was living in fear of this nun.

The day came when it was my turn.

I was fiddling with my pen as she was teaching.

I was paying attention.

I was not clicking the pen or making any noise with it.

She just wanted every one's hands on the table and eyes in her.

She yelled my name

I froze then said "Yes, Sister?"

She yelled again " What are you writing?"

I answered " I'm not writing anything Sister"

She stomped her swollen legs towards my desk and I swear I thought I was going to pass out.

She grabbed some old papers on my desk and accused me of working on homework and not paying attention. She yelled at me and made me feel like a liar.

I looked around at all the relieved faces of children that were glad it wasn't their turn yet.

They were scared too.

I became angry

and I prayed silently that God would do something about it,

and then something happened

She hit her side on the corner of her desk and I could tell it hurt.

She winced,

and I am ashamed to say I smiled just a bit.

I could tell my classmates were cheering in in their heads. I could almost hear it,

because for one moment she felt the sting. 

I decided then and there if I were to become a nun that she would be the example of what NOT to be.

There were plenty of nuns in my life that were kind and tough and funny and cared about children.

I wanted to be like them. They would be my example....

and then I discovered boys...and that was the end of that.