St. Peter Martyr
The martyrdom of St. Peter of Verona.
He was butchered with an axe and began writing the Creed in his blood on the ground as he lay dying. I was so deeply impressed, I had to take him as my Confirmation patron, hence the name Peter, which I hyphenated with my Baptismal name, James-Peter. So I am really Terrance James-Peter Christian. Isn’t that cool?
Sr. Vivian, my teacher in 7th grade, hated me. She knew my mother was a divorced, remarried Catholic and my father was Lutheran, that we were poor, and at the time my dad a nerdowell sort of guy. Vivian was a very unhappy nun. Although, she had a pet, Philip was his name, and when it came time for us to stand up and relate the biographies of our Confirmation patrons, Philip was just ahead of me with his presentation.
He chose Peter the Apostle (boring!) because he was first Pope and Philip wanted to be a priest - like I wanted to be a priest too Sister. (I’m sure he became something else, like a mortician or something.) Viv was absolutely delighted with his story however, clapping her hands. Then, narrowing her beady little eyes, tightening her lips, she looked sternly at me and announced, “Well class, Mr. Nelson has chosen the same saint Philip has, so we don’t have to listen to him. Let’s move on.” And we moved on to hear someone else. I just stood there open mouthed, convinced she thought I copied Philip.
Yeah, so that is pretty much why I blog nowadays.
(And Cathy wonders why I tend to be misanthropic.)
Looking down to the ground, I say a lttle prayer for Sister, “I hope you’re happy down there.”
March 29th, 2007 at 1:29 am
Cruel. A salutary reminder that the “Catholic 50s” were not “the Bells of Saint Mary’s” for all of us.
March 29th, 2007 at 1:38 am
I was confirmed in 4th grade. Couldn’t decided between Saint Michael the Archangel and Saint Francis of Assisi for my Confirmation name. I asked Miss Keating if I could take both names, as in Michael–Francis. She scoffed at me, as I recall. I remember feeling humiliated and hurt. I finally chose Michael. Later I found out that Saint Michael is the patron of my mother’s grandmother’s family; they built a church in his honour. Michael is also the name of my younger brother who reposed in the Lord several years ago.
March 29th, 2007 at 8:24 am
Hey there, fellow Grumpy Old Man, I chose the Apostle, Peter, as my Confirmation name back in Sixth Grade. (I did then and probably still do, want to be in charge).
What have you got against him? You are aware that he holds the Keys to the Kingdom?
March 29th, 2007 at 9:12 am
Ditto what Father said. That was unbelievably cruel of that Sister. Not all religious and clergy are holy. I’ve always known that. I think there were/are some that don’t even try and that is a great tragedy for them and for all of us.
[big hug!]
March 29th, 2007 at 9:56 am
I’ve actually forgiven Sr. Vivian a long time ago, I’m just being silly when I “look down” and tell her I hope she is happy.
She had to be an unhappy nun - she probably had no place else to go but in the convent. Her best friend was the character actress Oona O’Neil who played the crazy housekeeper in “Frankenstein” and the “Invisible Man” movies. They resembled one another…in fact, Miss O’Neil may have based her characters upon Vivian.
I still pray for her. She always sat behind me at Mass, and if I didn’t kneel up straight, she twisted my ear lobe and would pull me up. I’m telling you, she really hated me.
But I learned from it. I learned that not everyone is going to like us in life, and I understood - even at that time - it doesn’t always mean that there is something wrong with me. I think I knew she was neurotic - or as I would say - nuts.
Sometimes when she would look at me with that hateful scowl, I couldn’t help but laugh. I didn’t want her to think I was laughing at her, so I’d push my pencil off of my desk, and quickly lean over to pick it up, so she wouldn’t notice my laughter.
Sometimes she would notice and say, “Mr. Nelson, would you like to stand up and tell the class what is so funny?” I could only shake my head no. Then she would say, “Then wipe that Chessy Cat grin off your face!” I had all I could do to keep myself laughing even harder, but by that time the entire class was laughing and she had to reclaim order - thus I was off the hook.
So there were light moments as well.
March 29th, 2007 at 5:30 pm
My husband had similar experiences with a cruel nun when he was in first grade who humiliated and degraded him in front of the class. She added injury to a difficult family situation, punishing an innocent child for the sins of his parents. He always laughs when he hears about people leaving the Church because of the “mean nuns” because he has as much reason to leave as anyone on that account, but he never left.
There were, are, and will be some dysfunctional people in the Church and in religious life, because we are in the fallen world. I could certainly tell stories of nuns who treated me in a totally sadistic way, stories that would make anyone’s hair stand on end. I was always able to differentiate between “people in the Church” and “The Church.” Others have trouble with that.
What we need to do is make sure that such ill people are not in a position of power over small children.
March 29th, 2007 at 6:11 pm
Elena, excellent point - friends have asked me how I can be Catholic after such treatment. But my faith is in God, not men. Nuns are people too. Thankfully, we have some very good ones today - as well as we had back then.
Sometimes I wonder if the mean nun thing isn’t just a blame game for people who don’t want to play by the rules? Although in severe cases, an abusive relationship accomplishes the evil one’s intent, loss of faith…pretty scary for the person responsible for scandalizing little ones.
March 29th, 2007 at 6:18 pm
Ah yes, this reminds me of my first day in Catholic school (1956). Sister asked me, “And what is your name, my child?” I replied, “Jill, Sister.” She paused, then went on, “And what is the rest of your name?” I replied, “That’s all there is, Sister.” She shot back, “That’s not a saint’s name.” I looked her in the eye and said, “Well, I don’t plan on being one!” A promise I’ve managed to keep to this day.
March 23rd, 2008 at 9:29 pm
Googling for Barque of St Peter and found your blog. Never know about St. Peter of Verona( learn something new).This saint took the name of the first saint Pope, so all comeback to the root, I guess.Stories of “beloved” nuns ignite some of my memories & a reminder to pray for all religious who courageously walk the narrow way.Thanks for your very though provoking blog