The Park Bench
Sr. Patricia Edward Jablonski, FSP

I believe God can call you to religious life at any age, in any way. He called me when I was only seven. I said yes. And it’s made ALL the difference in my life….

Jesus used the Sisters who taught me in grammar school to first attract me to the religious life. Everything about them fascinated me. I watched them like a hawk. Even though I was too young to understand a lot of particulars about their life, I did intuit the most important thing—they were in love! These women genuinely loved the Lord, and through him, everyone and everything else he had created. It was all mysteriously beautiful to me. I wanted to be a part of it. Somehow I knew that this strong desire was not my own idea, but God’s. Yes, God had put it into my heart. That made it even more awesome.

I was a second grader in 1964, just before the close of Vatican II. Although I could tell there was much more to being a Sister than wearing special clothing, I wanted to imitate the Sisters in any way I could. The teaching Sisters at our parish belonged to a Franciscan congregation. Their habit was a challenge for a seven-year-old to reconstruct, but I tried hard. Everyday when I got home from school I hurried to my room and shut the door. There I donned my "habit"—a long, white bath towel (I couldn’t find a black one!) pinned over a white hair net, cardboard headdress and matching cardboard collar. The towel held out fine, but the cardboard soon showed signs of wear and tear. One of my aunts, an expert seamstress, came to the rescue. She began attending Sunday Mass with the Sisters in her own parish so as to observe them before and after Mass. In a few weeks she surprised me with a miniature habit. I was thrilled! I wore it every day for as long as it fit me.

Months stretched into years. The idea of giving my whole life to Jesus as a Sister persisted. My family was sure I’d "outgrow" it. My friends thought I’d change my mind. But the thought just wouldn’t go away. I admit that sometimes I tried to push it into the background. But it had a funny way of popping right back out at the oddest times. And...it kept growing stronger. It was as if nothing else in life would be "enough" for me.

Most of the kids at school thought entering the convent was a very weird thing to do. And so by seventh grade I was keeping my desire a secret. Then I met Denise. She guessed what I was thinking and confided that she wanted to enter religious life too. We became a real support for one another. Toward the end of eighth grade we decided that we needed more information on religious life. We scoured our diocesan newspaper for vocational ads, then divided the addresses between us so that we ended up writing to all the congregations listed. At first we made the mistake of revealing our age—thirteen at the time—in our letters. Some congregations didn’t answer. Others wrote back telling us to contact them after we’d completed college. After that, we never mentioned our ages unless someone wrote back and specifically asked. Soon we began receiving invitations to visit various convents around the country. That was out of the question since transportation, not to mention parental permission, were real problems.

Then came the memorable day. In reply to one of her letters, Denise received a phone call from the vocation directress of the Daughters of St. Paul. Sr. Sharon Anne was going to be visiting another girl in our area. Could she stop over at Denise’s house to meet her and her family? Of course not! Denise’s parents, like mine, didn’t even know that we had been sending away for information on religious life. In a panic, Denise told Sr. Sharon that she’d have to call her back. Hanging up, she immediately called me—right in the middle of lunch. "I told Sister about you, too," she confessed. "Now what do we do?"

"Well, she can’t come to my house either," I answered adamantly. "Just tell her to meet us in the park."

The large city park located halfway between our houses seemed a safe enough place for this important meeting. And so, a few hours later, under a light drizzle, Denise and I found ourselves sitting between two young Daughters of St. Paul on a bench facing the duck pond! It was the climax of our vocational search. The Sisters were unruffled by the setting. We took turns shooting questions at them. They patiently listened, smiled a lot, and gave us some intriguing answers. I could have never imagined the new direction my life would take after getting up from that park bench.

The following year the Sisters invited Denise and me to their Boston convent and house of formation for a vocational retreat. By that time I had gotten up the courage to ask my parents to drive us. They did. It was great. We prayed with the Sisters, worked side by side with them in the apostolate rooms of their publishing house and asked more questions. Twenty-two years later I can still remember the greatest impressions that visit left on me: 1) the Sisters were very happy, 2) I felt I was home. It was the first of my many visits to the large brick convent.

The idea of having a religious vocation never interfered with my life as a normal teenager. I continued to argue with my two younger brothers. I loved being with my friends. I enjoyed music and pets, especially my cats, guinea pig, and parakeets (I didn’t have them all at the same time!). I was active in several high school organizations, wrote for our local newspaper, worked part-time giving guitar lessons, using some of the money I’d earned to travel twice to Europe with a group of students and teachers from my school.

I also attended the senior prom when I was a junior. I entered the Daughters of St. Paul ten days after graduating from high school. It was the beginning of an adventure in love, an adventure that continues to challenge me every day. Two things especially attracted me to our congregation—our blending of the contemplative and active lives and our profoundly Eucharistic spirituality.

The deeper I explore our Pauline charism, the more I realize that I’ll never fully understand the mystery that is my vocation. As a Daughter of St. Paul I’m called to surrender my entire person—my mind, my will, my heart—to Jesus, my Divine Master, so that his own mind, his own will and his own heart can gradually live in me. I need to fill myself with Jesus so that I can give him to others, just as Mary did. It’s a vocation that reaches far beyond me to the thousands of persons whose lives I’m called to touch, in imitation of Paul, as an apostle of the Master.

People today are starving for the love, hope and peace that only the truth of the Gospel can bring. What better and quicker way to bring them Jesus and his Gospel than through the media?

At the mention of religious life many people immediately think about giving things up. It’s true, there are very real sacrifices and troubles in religious life, just as there are in every state of life. But there’s also the "hundredfold" Jesus promised to those who leave everything to follow him. I’ve been blessed with the deep peace and joy that come from knowing I’m doing God’s will. I’ve gained 2,600 Sisters of every age and nationality.

My "homes" have continuously multiplied and are now spread over 49 countries, since every convent is "home." The spiritual formation I’ve received has rooted me in the Eucharist and Scripture, helping me to center my life on Jesus. My vows free me to follow the Master in a more radical way than would have otherwise been possible for me. And partici-pating in our media apostolate has allowed me to place whatever gifts and talents I have entirely at the service of the Gospel.

It was a long journey from that park bench to the convent door. But I’ve discovered here the fullness of life and love. (So has Denise.) A beautiful fullness. I wish the same for you.