My last two confessions, in preparation to entering the convent were made to "Father" Ceserri. When I had finished the last one, and he was expounding and explaining my admirable choice of sisterhood life, he raised his right hand while pronouncing the words, "I absolve thee, etc." and then he put his arm around my neck and very "fatherly" kissed me. In the midst of my sanctifying confusion I did not know whether it was the Holy Ghost, or if it was meant in brotherly love. But, I quieted my mind with the happy thought that as the priest was Christ in the confessional, it must have been Him who had kissed me, and I believed myself highly favored by this mark of His love.

This same priest, "Father" Ceserri, took me from my home, which was in the Palouse country in the eastern part of Washington, to Walla Walla, which was two days' travel by stage, and a few hours on the railroad. At the end of the two days' stage travel, we were in Dayton, Washington. It had been very warm and dusty all day. The clerk of the hotel showed us to a large room prepared for two. "Father" Ceserri, in a laughing, jolly, good-natured manner, remarked that the clerk took us for man and wife. The priest left the room while I was dusting and arranging myself. When he returned, he had a couple of bottles of porter, he called it, and two big goblets. He opened the porter and filled the goblets, handed one to me and kept the other himself. I would not take it, telling him that I never took liquor. He pleaded that I should drink it as it would do me good after the tiresome travel of the day. He could not prevail upon me to take it, so he left the room again, returning soon with some beer, saying that this was milder and insisted that I take it. I refused as before. He told me that if I wanted to be a sister that I had to learn to obey, as sisters made vows of obedience. So I consented to taste it in obedience to him. He was then satisfied, as I had obeyed.

The next day we went to Walla Walla, where I remained about a month with the Sisters of Charity, who took me to Vancouver, Washington, where I entered the convent.

It was understood between the priest and my mother, before I left home, that I would have a year's schooling before entering the Sisterhood. This promise had also been made to me by the Reverend Mother John of the Cross.

On the day set by the sisters, July 30th, 1881, I was notified that I was to be received into the novitiate that evening. I reminded the reverend mother of her promise to me in regard to school, and she told me that she had not forgotten it, that the two years' novitiate was all schooling. I believed her, and, as I had already had a few lessons in obedience, I thought it best for me to do as she directed. I had learned that the reverend mother superior was the same over us in the convent as the priest in the confessional and church. So I yielded in all confidence to her for my future interests.

On entering the novitiate, I was given a formula, which I said kneeling, as follows: "Reverend Mother, I beg to enter this holy house, and will submit to all the trials to prove myself worthy to become a servant of the poor, and pray for perseverance." I was then led into a large, barn-like hall or room, with a long, sort-of-workshop table in the center, and a number of plain chairs—this was all the furniture. There were a few holy pictures on the wall which broke the awful bareness. The frames were black, coffin-like strips of wood, very forcibly impressing the idea of death on my mind.

I was then led to a graded oratory where there were various statues and lighted candles, before which I knelt, ahead of the novices and the Mistress of Novices, and prayed: "Veni, Creator Spiritus," meaning, "Come, O Holy Ghost," and the Litany of the Saints. With this introductory ceremony over, the Mistress came to me with a large pair of scissors and cut off my beautiful, golden-brown hair, my only beauty. This was the first "mark of the beast," the first preparatory act for Rome's "holy" institution.

I was then a "postulant" which means on probation. The postulant period generally is six months. During that time the sisters decide whether or not the candidate has a religious calling—that is, to find out more intimately her character, disposition, temperament, inclinations, disinclinations—to see if she has the bodily fitness and soul requirements to be permitted the next step of advancement in this "holy" calling.

I was told by the mistress that the closing of the door of that "holy" house was a complete separation of myself from the sinful world. That if I wanted to be a spouse of Christ and a good sister, I had to absolutely forget everything outside the convent, even to my own parents and relations. "He that is not willing to leave father and mother for my sake is not worthy of me." The one important obligation that was repeatedly impressed upon my mind was that I had entered the convent to become a religious to save my soul. The quotation, "Let the dead bury their dead," was translated literally to me, and I was not to worry about any one outside the four walls that enclosed me.

As a postulant, I was to learn the fundamental virtues of the community of the Sisters of Charity—Humility, Simplicity and Charity. For the acquisition of these virtues I had to learn to diminish in my own estimation; be glad whenever I was given an opportunity to abase, to renounce or to mortify myself. By the interior and exterior practice of these virtues I had to prove myself. By true humility of heart, I had to bear all things and refuse the soul its desires. The poor and humble in spirit pass their life in abundance of peace, I was taught.

One of the first humiliating experiences I had, to illustrate the above teaching, was one Sunday evening soon after I entered. The sister who was to relieve me in the department I was working in, had failed to report and I had not had any supper. The next exercise was benediction in the church and I could not absent myself from this without being dispensed by my superior, and then for only very grave reasons. I went to the novitiate room about eight o'clock, and the mistress of novices rebuked me severely for not being in rank with the novices. I told her that I had not had any supper yet, as the sister officer had failed to replace me in time. I had broken a rule by being absent from supper without permission, so I went on my knees and asked a penance. The mistress told me that I could go to the pantry and get some eatables and take them up to the novitiate room and eat my supper before the novices. She also informed me that I had done wrong for blaming a professed sister for the breach of the rule.

This seems like a very childish occurrence, and so it was. But it was humiliating for me to sit before a number of novices eating a cold supper, and Rome had made her point by demanding from one of her dupes, and the dupe responded.

Almost from the first day I entered, I had to learn Latin prayers. This was probably the education I was promised. It would have been alright had I been taught Latin so it would have been of some benefit to me. But these prayers were taught me in a sort of parrot-like manner, the mistress of novices telling me how to pronounce the words in Latin, and I knew what they meant in English, having learned the prayers previously. If I were to see the same words written, explaining something I had not previously memorized, I would not be able to read or understand the meaning of them. I learned prayers in French in the same manner.

I will give you an example of a Latin prayer. This is the Angelical Salutation, or Hail! Mary:

Ave, Maria, gratia plena; Dominus tecum; benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Jesus.

Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen.

Quite often during my postulant period, while I was learning these Latin prayers, I would have to do sewing. This was a beginning of the vow of poverty, which I hoped to take in the near future—learning to be a religious, and at the same time working my hands for the Roman Catholic system.

The candidate is assigned her work by the mistress of novices and goes through a test to see in what way she can become useful in the service of God as a Sister of Charity. It is a case of getting all the work possible out of the girls from the very start, for these so-called "holy" institutions.

My two years' novitiate training was served in the boys' department of the Orphanage of the Sisters of Charity at Vancouver, Washington. There was an average of about seventy boys in this institution, ranging in age from three to fourteen years. Two sisters had all the care of these children, except the cooking of the food. And, oh, the care these poor children received. They were physically and mentally weak from having been underfed and poorly cared for, and being taught by two sisters who had a parochial school education such as I had.

One of my duties was to awaken these poor, little waif children for Mass at five thirty in the morning. If, on arising, I found that any of them had failed to get up during the night to attend to nature's call, it was my duty to whip them with a substantial leather strap, which was provided for that purpose. If some of the larger boys needed this persuasive remedy for their ills, they would be taken to the attic, stripped, and some sister would be there to administer the medicine in prolific doses. With this kind of treatment, it was no wonder that we had to be continually on our guard to keep them from running away. I have known as many as six at one time to run away for two or three days, and sometimes some of them would not come back at all.

On the twenty-fourth day of February, 1882, I was admitted to the "holy habit," in most orders called the taking of the "white veil," the next step to my "religious perfection."

I was now a "novice" and I must present myself every two weeks to the mistress of novices, and in order that she may direct my soul in the spiritual life, I must kneel to her in private and make what is called "manifestation of conscience." That is, to lay bare my heart and mind in everything I can possibly think of, excepting grave sins. If the mistress, who is a cunning director, has any dislike for any of the novices, this exercise is very cruel, for these "saintly" nuns know better than any one on earth how to cunningly torture those in their power—the system forcing them to it.

Every week I had to go to the priest for confession, whether I had anything to confess or not. Very often I had to search my heart and mind to find something to tell this "Christ" in the confessional.

Soon after I became a "novice," we were called to the novitiate for spiritual instruction. "Father" Louis de G. Schram was the chaplain. An orphan boy had been taken out of the orphanage on account of one of the younger sisters having talked a little too much. "Father" Schram said, "Now, sisters, always tell the truth, but to tell the truth you do not have to tell everything you know. Suppose, Sister O'Brien, if somebody would come and ask you, 'Is Johnny Morgan here?' you would not have to say 'Yes, Johnny Morgan is here.' You place one hand in the sleeve of the other hand, and you say, 'No, Johnny Morgan is not here,' and you will mean that Johnny Morgan is not up your sleeve."

This story was given as a spiritual instruction, but it very truly represents the system I lived for thirty-one years—deception, from beginning to finish. With teachings of this nature constantly before us, it was a case of lying, stealing, thieving and "swipping" among ourselves, from morning till night, to make life a little more comfortable for ourselves.

A novice is not allowed to talk in general conversation with a professed sister during her novitiate period, with the exception of the mistress of novices and the mother superior. These two sisters, and the priest, are the only confidents we have, as we are taught to talk among ourselves on religious subjects only, and if we hear another novice talking in any other subject or breaking any other rule, it is our duty by rule and conscience to report her to the mistress of novices. We are told that we are all "monitors," which means, carry the reports to the mistress of novices.

This practice destroys confidence and causes us to regard one another with suspicion, the result of which is distrust and hatred, and a general spy system. This is one of the most devilish practices taught in this part of a sister's life, one that stays with her throughout her whole sisterhood. Tattling, accusing, charging one another with the most trivial, cruel, and very often wicked acts. Many times the sister accused is innocent of any wrong doing, but there is nearly always a penance imposed upon her, and if she is not in the good grace of the mother superior, the penance is often very severe.

"Father" Louis de G. Schram (Johnny Morgan Story)