Tales from the cloister - II
The novitiate that fell apart.
Once upon a time, there was a monastery with seven novices. They had a very nice young monk as their Father Master. It was an odd little group, and the Father had a difficult time keeping his little flock together. (It is just too bad I can’t tell the whole story right now.) Suffice it to say, each novice left one by one, until the Father Master couldn’t take it any more either, and then there was only one. Seven monks left the monastery, and only one novice remained in the community. Hence the statistic: only 1 in 8 men understand monastic life; as well as, only 1 in 8 persevere; and the other, 8 out of 9 men have an idealized view of monastic life. (The Father Master may have had the most idealized view of all.) I have other statistics as well, but the former novices are still alive.
The End.
Photo credit: Thanks to D.J. for the photos of the novice class at a little monastery in the middle of a very big country. Br. A. is not shown because he is taking the photo. Novices standing are: br. N. - the only one to persevere; br. D.J. - bearded in middle; br. B. at end with the tv glasses. Novices seated are: br. I - also wearing tv glasses and sitting much too close to; br. C. - the very handsome novice sitting completely sideways, facing fr. R. wearing the black scapular, and then br. L. who was the first to go. I cannot write more because as I mentioned in the story, most of these people are still alive and probably litigious.

I was praying all alone in the church last night and noted the sanctuary decorated for Pentecost. The garden club of the parish purchased several planters of red geraniums for outside the church, and so these were used in the sanctuary until they get planted on Tuesday. I was impressed with how they were arranged and filled the sanctuary, as well as by the resourcefulness of the pastor in getting a double use out of the plants.