My First Mission

My novitiate training of two years being finished, I was now ready to be prepared to become a "Virgin Spouse of Christ." My "canonical examination" was conducted by "The Right Reverend" Aegedius Jounger, Bishop of Nesqually. This examination was a very private affair. It consisted of rigid questioning in regard to the vows I was about to take, poverty, chastity and obedience, and especially the vow of chastity. I was asked what I understood by the vow of chastity, and if I thought I could keep it through my life. I was also questioned very closely as to my fitness to take a vow of this nature.

I was informed that my examination had been satisfactory, and on the sixth day of August, 1883, I made my profession as a Sister of Charity of Providence, in the convent of that order, the House of Providence, in Vancouver, Washington. Bishop Jounger officiated at this ceremony, assisted by "Father" Schram and several other priests.

This ceremony included the "nuptial mass" which is the wedding ceremony between the novice, or candidate, as the bride, and Jesus Christ, the absent bridegroom. At this ceremony I received my wedding ring (which I have yet) and took the perpetual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. These three things—the wedding ceremony, receiving the ring and the taking of the vows—made me a "virgin bride of Jesus Christ." The head-gear of the garb was changed at this ceremony of my "religious profession," which was the only difference between the garb of the novice and the professed sister in the order I had entered. I also received my number, 554, which meant that I was the 554th sister to enter that order, and which I kept throughout my sisterhood life. All clothes and articles assigned to us for our use are marked with the sister's number, just as seculars (people of the world) use their names or initials, or the numbering of convicts in the penitentiary.

The following is, in substance, the form of the final and perpetual vows I took:

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. I, Elizabeth Schoffen, in religion Sister Lucretia, wishing to consecrate myself to God as a daughter of charity, a servant of the poor, do hereby make to the Divine Majesty the perpetual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, under the authority of the General Superior, and according to the constitution and laws of the institute and organization.

"I humbly beg the Divine mercy through the infinite merits of our Lord Jesus Christ, the intercession of His glorious Mother and the prayers of the Patron Saints of this Institute, to grant me the grace of being faithful to these vows of poverty, chastity and obedience; for the dispensation of which I will humbly submit to my Mother General and the Holy Father, the Pope. Amen."

After the taking of these vows, there is more mass during which the act of "Consecration to the Holy Virgin Mary" takes place. I had just been consecrated to Jesus Christ as His virgin spouse, but now I must be consecrated to His mother. Let me say right here that once each year the sisters are required to renew their vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, and the act of consecration to the Holy Virgin Mary.

The act of consecration to the Holy Virgin Mary is as follows:

'O, Holy Virgin, virgin among all virgins, and queen of all religious associations, we humbly prostrate ourselves at your feet in order to acknowledge that after God, it is to you, O good mother of ours, that we owe the grace of our vocation—devoted and consecrated in a special manner to the devotion of your sorrows. Being called to take care of your dear Son in His poverty, His suffering and to assist Him when dying, we desire that you make us share in your feelings as a mother. Therefore, please make us partake of your compassion for all the spiritual and physical miseries of the children that you have begotten on the cross. Be pleased to look at us as the daughters of sorrow. Deign to receive us in your most amiable heart—this heart of yours that was pierced with the seven swords of sorrow We willingly love this heart of yours so good. You know the dangers we go through in the exercise of Charity; take great care of us in the midst of our perils, O you who are the helper of all Christians. In acknowledgment of your kindness, we shall work with all our strength to make all people love, serve and glorify thee. Amen.'

Allow me to explain, in a concise manner, the three vows, poverty, chastity and obedience:

By the vow of poverty, I had to give up all the material goods I possessed and all that I ever hoped to possess either by service or inheritance—being guided according to the Lord's counsel, "If thou wilt be perfect, go, sell all thou hast and give it to the poor." Even my material body no longer belonged to myself, I was an inherent part of the order. Nothing belonged to me—the clothes I wore, even to a pin, belonged to the community. I had to always say, "This is ours," never say "This is mine." If any presents were given to me in any of the work I was to do, I had to turn them over to the superior. Not a minute of time is mine any longer, the twenty-four hours of the day belongs to the community, and if I wish to do anything other than the daily routine, I must be dispensed by my superior.

By the vow of chastity I was forbidden to think of a man or marriage. I was not allowed to kiss and fondle children, especially male children, or to kiss another sister. After a long absence, sisters may embrace and greet each other by rubbing head-gears against the cheeks. I was not allowed to enter the curtained-off apartment of another sister in the dormitory. I was not allowed any more liberty towards even my mother or any of my relatives than I was towards strangers. I may, as my book of rule reads, see them for one-half an hour, upon permission from my superior, and if the time is extended I must be dispensed by my superior for the non-observance of this point of the "holy" rule. Now, when I had this permission to speak to some of my relatives, or some one else, I must never speak in a language not understood by the sister in near surveillance. If these visits occur more than once or twice a year, it is ample ground for humility, and mean, cutting things said by the superior and sisters. This is also a breach of the vow of poverty, as the time spent talking does not belong to the sister but to the community. She is told that it is a bad example to others who may wish the same privilege. It is a continual determined vigilance, keeping the sisters from any communication with the outside world. The rule particularly emphasizes that the sisters shall not keep birds or pet animals, as it would take time, which is not hers, and divert her affection which, as a sister spouse, must be given entirely to her heavenly spouse, Jesus Christ.

Another great teaching of this vow of chastity is modesty. A sister is taught to keep her eyes modestly cast down, fold her hands in the big sleeves of her garb when in the presence of the "opposite sex" (as men are called), and never look them in the face any higher than the chin. I tried this teaching for some time, but somehow Mother Nature was still with me, and every once in a while I would take a quick look at a man full in the face to see if he was good-looking, and if I could not see a good-looking man, I would look at the priest to see if he was handsome.

As an example for this virtue of modesty, we were told of the young Jesuit priest, St. Aloysius, who was so good and pure and holy, that he never looked his own mother full in the face.

By the vow of obedience a sister is to yield entire obedience of thought, word and understanding to her superior. The will of her superior must be her will, believing that black was white if the superior said so. Literally, she was like a corpse in her superior's hands, and still a tool to work for the Roman Catholic system. What is worse than mental slavery, the stultifying of all our intellectual powers and bringing them under the despotic will of another, and this behind the prison walls and barred doors of the Romish religious convent?

Obligations to convent life and practices crush all natural instinct. If the sister desires to aim at the high "ideals" taught in the sisterhood, she must abase and humiliate herself. If she has not the courage to make a fool of herself, by abasing and humiliating herself, she must ask her superior to give her some humiliating penance to suppress her feelings of higher nature as proud and coming from the devil. The more sinful and criminal a sister can believe herself in the eyes of God, and the more deserving of prisonlike treatment, and as a worm under the feet of all her companions, the more perfect and saintly she becomes in her own eyes and in the eyes of her superior, who can then use her as a better tool for the benefit of the system.

Any one who knows anything about nuns knows that they are nearly all like children, for under the ironclad, narrow and restricted rule, the sisters retrograde from the day they enter, and as time goes on they become as the rule itself—bitter and heartless, from a sense of morbidness and from the unnatural conditions, circumstances and environment surrounding them. There are the sisters who are childish and silly; others who are the cunning hypocrite. The latter type become the schemers among the sisters for the system, and believe me, they will leave nothing undone to gain favor with the heads of the order and the priests that they might gain some high office for themselves.

For nearly a year after I took my vows, I remained at the Orphanage in Vancouver.

As you already know, I was raised on a ranch, and was accustomed to being in the open air and having plenty of sunshine. These three years of almost complete confinement in this institution, and the long hours of hard, tedious work had begun to tell on my health. And, now as I could hardly attend to my duties, I was transferred to an Indian Mission at Tulalip, Washington, about June, 1884.

I was at this Mission five years. The first eight months I worked in the boys' department, assisting in the industrial training of about seventy-five Indian boys. The part I had in training these boys was more manual service than real instruction. But my labors kept me out of doors considerably and at the end of the eight months, my health was practically restored.

I was then given charge of the girls' department of the Mission where the work was again very confining.

Imagine, if you can, the terrible conditions I had to contend with at this school. There were about sixty girls, ranging in age from five to twenty-five years. They all slept in one large dormitory with beds so close together, that there was barely passing space, and I occupied one corner of that room. The accommodations for cleanliness were very poor, and the stench in that sleeping room was simply nauseating, and there was no remedy for it, with the existing conditions. In the morning, I had to dress about twenty-five of these girls, and care for the running, mattering sores of many, who were diseased (scrofulous), with an ointment supplied for that purpose by the government physician.

After this doctor had made a few visits and I had become a little acquainted with him, the superior came to me and asked me about our conversation. When she found out that we had talked about some things that were not strictly business, I was not allowed to be in the room when he came again. She told me that I should be very careful around a man, that I might lose my vocation.

I had to take my turn in the laundry nearly every week, and I remember one instance which occurred which will illustrate how the Roman Catholic system makes a "mountain out of a mole hill" and causes so much sorrow over practically nothing. I had damaged a little red-flannel shirt belonging to one of the children, while washing it, and I never heard the end of this terrible thing until after I wrote to my father and asked him to send me five dollars, that I might replace it. A very trivial thing in itself but the superior kept talking about it, causing me very much sorrow and grief that I shed many tears over it.

While I was at this Mission, I received a letter from my father informing me that my mother was very ill, and that in all probability would soon pass away. This letter had been addressed to Vancouver, and my Mother Superior had opened it and knew the contents. When she forwarded it to me, she inclosed a letter to my superior at Tulalip, telling her to tell me that if I could get some one to take my place and get the money necessary for my fare from my father, she would give me permission to go home to see my mother before she died. She knew very well that it was an impossibility to get any other to take my place, as I did not have the assigning of sisters to work of any nature, and none but sisters were allowed in the Mission. The answer was simply that my mother died and I never saw her after the day I left home to enter the "holy" convent.

Again, after four years of confining work in this department of the mission, my health absolutely failed. I asked to be transferred to some other house where I might have a chance to recuperate. About the first of September, 1889, I was transferred to the Indian Mission at Colville, Washington. At this Mission I had charge of the sewing and assisted in the dining-room. The responsibility was much less than it had been at Tulalip, and, having been relieved of this strain, and depressing conditions, I gradually regained my health.

I had now spent a little over six years in Mission work, and being naturally of an active disposition, both mentally and physically, I knew that I could not endure this banishment much longer. I say "banishment" very thoughtfully, for banishment it was. No companions with whom to converse, as the other sisters in these Missions were generally foreigners who could speak very little English, and as for being companions they were little better than no one. Then, the work was very tiresome and monotonous, with no physical exercise attached to it, nearly all being done in a sitting posture, with nothing to use or enlighten the mentality.

So, realizing these conditions, I asked to be given some work of a more active nature. And, about the first of December, 1890, I was transferred to the Sacred Heart Hospital, Spokane, Washington.

I was at this hospital only a short time, but while there I had charge of the laundry, which meant doing most of the work in that department, and also charge of a ward of fourteen patients, regardless of the fact that I had never had any previous experience of this nature. And, believe me, there were many trying, disagreeable experiences both to myself and the sick, due to my being untrained.

I recall one instance when I nearly injured myself for life lifting a patient when I did not know how to handle a person in a helpless condition. My back was crippled for about a month, but they say experience is the best teacher, and I had had my first lesson of this nature.

A physician had prescribed a seidlitz powder for a patient I was attending, but I had never given one and did not know how to proceed. I asked the sister superior, and then endeavored to carry out her orders. I took two large tumblers half filled with water and a powder in each. Hurriedly I poured the contents of one tumbler into the other and the effervescing saline ran all over the poor man and bed, while he was making desperate efforts to drink a little. All the men in the ward raised their heads to see the experiment and enjoyed a hearty laugh, while the patient received his prescription and a shower bath, both at the same time.

This was one time in my convent life that I received what I had asked for, in fact, it was just the opposite extreme of what I had been experiencing in my previous Mission. I was on my feet from morning till night, and even for recreation and diversion, I was sent to the kitchen to assist in the work there.