In the early morning darkness, neighborhoods of modest wood and stucco houses rolled west from downtown San Antonio, until Alice and I eventually reached St. John Bosco School and Convent. Entering the lobby at 7:15 am we were greeted by my younger sister, Mary, a Salesian Sister, who introduced some of the school staff, and a few moments later whisked us into our room adjoining the convent. For the next two days, amidst excursions in and about San Antonio, we had the unusual experience of sharing life with the Sisters.

The convent, a two-story brick structure attached to one side of the large school complex, was home to ten Sisters ranging in age from their twenties to eighties, all engaged directly or indirectly in educational ministry. When we arrived, their day had already begun.  Morning prayers, Mass and breakfast were over. The teaching Sisters soon stood with their staff of lay teachers for morning prayer in the lobby and at 7:45 the entire student body of children from four year old through 8th grade, gathered on the floor of the gymnasium.

The children show signs of being cared for. Before the ceremony began, 300 children with their school-colored back packs and uniforms, sat on the gym floor quietly chatting. At a signal from the school bell, they formed into lines, older students processed forward bearing flags and the Book of Scripture. The student body leaders led the salute, opening prayer, and read scripture.  “Children can do anything, if one makes the effort to educate them,” my sister explained.  There was an unusual calmness and seriousness to the scene that seemed to emanate from the personalities of the Sisters who were present.

Catholics are strangely conflicted in their thinking about convents. From the beginning, the Church gave special prominence to communities of women who consecrated their life to Christian service. But for centuries, such women were kept secluded within cloistered walls, and there is still an aura of mystery about life “behind the walls.” Many modern Catholics, living in a society that emphasizes independence, creature comforts, and designer goods, have convinced themselves that convent life is hopelessly old-fashioned. What we experienced was quite different.

The Sisters live in an environment with strikingly conventional values. The Sisters’ community room had functional couches, lounge chairs and a wide screen TV that someone had donated on which they watched the news each evening.  But apart from the tastefully decorated chapel, virtually everything was  understated. The material setting of the convent was a blue-collar working woman’s world in which creature comforts were entirely subordinate to the children they served and to the life of prayer. One could suggest that the life style was as radical as the Gospel message.

We found ourselves in a Christian commune in which individual effort was selflessly put to the service of the community. An elderly Sister tended a large garden of potted plants in the school patio. Another did the laundry; a third oversaw the school’s motor pool. Every sister had a clearly defined role. A tall sister, who had once been responsible for all the Salesian Sisters in the Western United States, now watched over the business aspects of the school and its maintenance personnel. Another took care of the chapel. It was a place in constant motion.

During our two days at the convent, I made an extra effort to attend daily Mass, usually arriving a few minutes late where the announced starting time of 6:30 am was typically moved ahead a few minutes to match the end of morning prayers. On the two days that I arrived at 6:30 am, Mass, celebrated by a retired priest from a nearby university was already underway. Early arriving children were shunted into the Sisters’ Mass where they could be watched over. Mass over, the pace quickened. The younger Sisters who were teaching, ate breakfast and were quickly gone from the dining room, not to be seen again until their hurried noon meal.  But even the elderly Sisters did not sit about. Before Alice and I had finished eating, grace after the meal had been recited, dishes were being washed, and tables set for the next meal.  The Sisters worked together in a purposeful way, were always gracious to their visitors, but did not loiter.

The group of Sisters had a very clear group identity of who they were and what they were about. The Daughters of Mary Help of Christians, as the Salesian Sisters are formally known, traces it origins to a group of women gathered together in 1867, by a 30 year old daughter of a Northern Italian peasant. Mary Mazzarello.  Their initial purpose had been designed to educate country girls and save them from the danger of street life. Five years later, they had been accepted by Rome as a religious institute and professed their first vows. Mary Mazzarello, died at the age of 44 and was canonized in 1951. Today the Salesian Sisters are the one of the largest institutes of women’s religious in the Catholic Church, numbering over 12,000 members. They are active in some 90 countries around the world  and are known for their service to the young, particularly the poorer classes. For many retired Sisters, the pleasure of remaining in a school contributing in some minor way and being close to the children, is a coveted goal.

Alice and I left the convent on a rainy Thursday afternoon two days after we had arrived. No individual aspect of our visit had surprised me. My sister had been in the convent for more than 50 years and I had visited her and the Sisters many times. But the experience of seeing the daily life of the Sisters in context was new to both of us. As we walked through the dining room several Sisters came up to us and thanked us for coming.  But it is we who had been blessed. The graced witness of the Sisters, quietly living a life style that few Catholics ever saw, had been a most wonderful gift.