The shame of Sister Mary

Sister Mary could hardly remember a time when she wasn’t a nun. She had entered the doors of the convent, aged 18, to become a novice in 1958. In the subsequent 49 years she had not left the convent, not even for the funeral of her father in 1972 and of her mother’s thirteen years later.

When she entered the convent Dwight D. Eisenhower was President of America, Harold Macmillan Prime Minister of Great Britain and Nikita Khrushchev was the first secretary of the Central Committee of the Soviet Union. It was four years before the Cuban missile crises. The Everly Brothers had the first of their four chart toppers with “All I have to do is dream”; and Elvis Presley had his second No1 with “Jailhouse Rock”.

Since 1958, not only hadn’t she left the convent she hadn’t watched television, listened to the radio, or read a newspaper. In reality she had truly cut herself off from the outside world. In addition she had joined a silent order, so the only time she heard a human voce was: during the act of worship, at her weekly confession and at interviews with Mother Superior. It was at such an interview that she was asked to become The Guest Nun, to look after the needs of visitors staying on retreat at the convent. Following her vow of obedience she could not refuse, but she did indicate her trepidation of having to interact with the outside world. Mother Superior reassured her that her contact with outsiders would be minimum. The brunt of the duties would be performed by Novices; her role would primarily be to provide supervision and guidance.

So it was, she had minimum contact with visitors, continuing to dedicate her life to devotion, pray and contemplation. So it would have remained had it not been for Kathaleen, a deeply disturbed young girl, who came to stay at the convent. She was disruptive and mischievous. After a week, Mother Superior decided enough was enough, and she was asked to leave. Her final act before leaving was to trash her bedroom.

There were tears in Sister Mary’s eyes as she viewed the damage, how could such a young woman have such hatred for the world. She picked up an upturned chair and placed it besides the bed. She saw on the floor a newspaper, something she hadn’t seen for nearly 50 years. She pick it up, and was appalled by the photograph of a scantily clad woman on the front page. As she threw it in the wastepaper bin it opened at a page with a matrix. Matrix, her mind flashed back to her school days and her favourite teacher Sister Agnes who taught her maths. It was through her influence she had become a nun. She looked at the matrix and saw a word she had never seen or heard of before Sudoku. It sounded foreign possibly oriental. Sitting at the edge of the bed she was expecting to read an article on mathematics, and was surprised to see it was some type of puzzle!

Involuntary she picked up a pencil from the table and filled in the first square, then the next, then the next. Soon brain cells which were about to die from the lack of use were sparking in full flight. She gave a little chuckle as she filled in the last square. What had she done? She felt a sense of shame! What if a Novice or Mother Superior had seen her! As she stood up she saw the puzzle she had completed was only the first of three, there was another labelled tough and one difficult. She hadn’t had to face temptation for over fifty years, the last time involved, she couldn’t remember. Like a little child sticking their finger in a honey pot, she quickly cut out the other two puzzles stuffing the piece of paper up her sleeve, she then threw the newspaper in the bin. She then set about tidying the room.

Returning to her own room she was in torment. Should she give in to her longing to complete the other two puzzles or destroy the piece of paper secreted up her sleeve?