For school, my parents enrolled me in St. Joseph’s Convent. Our principal, a tall, stately woman as I recall, was Mother Superior Theresa Corbie. However, the nun I feared the most was Mother Sebastian. An ominous figure in starched white, she crackled with every step as she bustled down the passages of the cloistered buildings. Her pale Irish face, as white as her garments, only glowed a warm pink if she was angered, but most times she wore a blank stare that made me wonder about her next move. Often my knuckles gleamed red from the whack of her ruler, the disciplinary stick never far from her grasp. It wasn’t until I joined Mother Sebastian’s mandatory embroidery class that I came to respect her and see her in a completely different light. read more…