Sacred Heart

The front entrance to Sacred Heart Monastery in Yankton, SD

Growing up in a family steeped in Catholic traditions, with a father who was one of eleven siblings, instilled in me a profound sense of faith and community. Among my father’s siblings, three remarkable aunts took the courageous step of entering the convent, dedicating their lives to service and spirituality. Their commitment to their faith was not only inspiring but also painted a vivid picture of a life devoted to something greater than oneself. I watched as they poured love into their work, whether teaching, aiding the less fortunate, or guiding others in their spiritual journeys. Their stories of devotion resonated deeply within me, sowing the seeds of my own spiritual calling. In 1989, amidst profound reflection and a desire to follow in their footsteps, I made the pivotal decision to enter the convent myself, embracing a path that promised both challenges and profound fulfillment. This journey not only honored my aunts’ legacy but also allowed me to explore the depths of faith, connection, and purpose within a tightly knit family that viewed service as a noble vocation. Through the years, the lessons learned from my family echoed in my heart, guiding me as I explored the monastic life that resonated with the same unwavering love and commitment I admired in my aunts.

Stepping into the convent as a postulant is an experience filled with anticipation and apprehension, and selecting the right "household" for my stay was the pivotal first step in crafting my journey. Riverside, with its vibrant energy and warm camaraderie, immediately beckoned to me, reflecting an atmosphere of openness and joy that felt like a welcoming embrace. The household was brimming with eclectic personalities, each member bringing unique stories and perspectives, enriching the communal life we shared. Evening prayers often transformed into laughter-filled gatherings, where we would exchange tales of our day and the challenges we faced, forging bonds that felt more like family than mere companionship. In Riverside, I felt a sense of belonging that was both exhilarating and grounding—a fun bunch, indeed, who taught me that faith and joy could coexist, and together, we navigated our spiritual paths with both reverence and a shared sense of humor. As I embarked on this transformative journey, I realized that this household would not only shape my experience within the convent but also profoundly influence my understanding of community and the beauty of shared purpose.

Riverside was a serene oasis within the convent that overlooked the flowing waters of the Missouri river. Designed with both simplicity and purpose, the household consisted of twelve individual cells that embodied a sense of tranquility and reflection. Each cell, though compact, offered a personal sanctuary adorned with minimal furnishings, allowing the residents to draw their focus inward or engage in spiritual practices without distraction. The communal large bathroom served as a practical yet welcoming space, emphasizing the convent’s ethos of shared responsibility and community living. Adjacent to this was the kitchen, the heart of the household, where the aroma of freshly baked desserts would often mingle with laughter and conversation, bringing together the nuns and fostering a sense of belonging. The cozy living room was a haven for gathering; adorned with comfortable seating and warm lighting, it provided a space for prayer, contemplation, or shared activities such as reading and storytelling. Along the south side ran a bank of windows allowing sunlight to bathe the room; I loved standing by the windows to study the row of trees lining the river below. Together, these elements formed a harmonious blend of spirituality and communal life, illustrating not only a commitment to religious devotion but also the importance of connection and support within the convent walls.

During my summer at the convent, I found myself immersed in a unique blend of history and devotion as I used a special mix of paint blended with sand to brighten the oldest white stone crosses that adorned the cemetery grounds. As I gathered my supplies each morning, the early sun would cast a warm glow over the serene grounds, transforming the cemetery into a peaceful sanctuary dotted with the aged yet dignified markers of those who had come before. The task itself required patience and a steady hand; mixing the paint with sand not only created a textured finish that mimicked the rustic beauty of the surrounding landscape but also imbued the crosses with a sense of permanence and authenticity. Each brushstroke felt like an homage to the lives honored by these markers, as the solid earth beneath my feet reminded me of the continuous cycle of life and memorial. I found solace in this painstaking work, reflecting on the stories behind each cross and the community’s commitment to maintaining the site. As I dipped my brush into the milky white mixture, I felt connected, not just to the history of the convent, but also to the enduring spirit of those buried there, making each cross a testament to remembrance and love.

As summer ended and the golden hues of autumn washed over the world outside, my summer chores ended, and I returned to Mount Marty to finish my degree in education. Each morning at 7 a.m., I gathered with my fellow sisters in the warm, inviting glow of the living room for our morning ritual of Lauds, a time-honored tradition that set the tone for our day. Once all were present, we formed a semicircle on the worn carpet, our faces illuminated by the sunrise streaming in through the windows, as we chanted our prayers and reflected on the blessings that autumn brings—grateful for the harvest season and the bonds of sisterhood that knit us together. Our voices harmonized in a melodic rhythm, intertwining thoughts of gratitude and intentions for the day ahead. Afterwards, as I prepared to leave for class, I felt a renewed sense of purpose; the unity we shared during those precious moments instilled in me a deep appreciation for the beauty of transition, both in nature and within ourselves. The thought of carrying that warmth and intention with me, amid the bustle of campus life, filled me with a sense of peace and optimism that lingered long after I stepped out into the brisk morning.

After a long day of college classes filled with lectures and group projects, the serene atmosphere of Bishop Marty Chapel beckoned me for the cherished Vespers ritual. As we gathered in the dimly lit chapel, the soft glow of flickering candles danced against the stained-glass windows, casting colorful reflections that mirrored our vibrant camaraderie. A sense of peace and reverence imbued the air, allowing us to shed the stress of work life and reconnect with our spiritual selves. As evening drew near in the dimly lit monastery, the tranquility wrapped around us like a warm embrace, and our voices lifted in unison to create a hauntingly beautiful soundscape of monophonic Gregorian chants. Each note would rise and fall in a seamless flow, echoing off the limestone walls and filling the air with an ethereal resonance that transcended time and space. The chants, steeped in centuries of tradition, invited us into a contemplative realm, where the simplicity of the melody allows for a deep connection with the divine. The rhythm of our breathing synchronized as we navigate the solemn texts, our collective voices merging into one harmonious expression of devotion. Each syllable, steeped in sacred meaning, emerged as a prayer, honoring the rituals of faith while fostering a profound sense of community among us. After the soulful service, we left the chapel with hearts lighter and spirits lifted, eager to share a hearty dinner and nourish both our bodies and minds, further strengthening the bonds of sisterhood that transcended our daily routines.

As we filed into the large monastery dining room, the atmosphere buzzed with a unique blend of camaraderie and spirituality as all the sisters gathered for their evening meal. The long, buffet table at the front of the room was adorned with wholesome dishes prepared with love by fellow sisters. As we shared the hearty dinner—each bite a celebration of communal living—our various conversations filled the large room with a joyful noise. After the meal, the room would settle into a respectful silence as one of the sisters opened the sacred text and began to read from the Rule of St. Benedict. Her voice, steady and serene, echoed through the hall, weaving the timeless wisdom of Benedictine teachings into the fabric of our lives. Themes of balance, community, and mindfulness resonated with each of us, serving not only as nourishment for our bodies but also for our souls. Together, we found solace and strength in the shared teachings, forging an unbreakable bond that transcended the individual, affirming our commitment to a life of service, prayer, and love.

After dinner, I joined my fellow sisters in the ritual of cleaning up, a time-honored tradition that goes beyond merely washing dishes. The clinking of plates and the soft hum of chatter created a sense of warmth and togetherness that lingered long after the last bite had been savored. Sometimes, I found myself teaming up with my aunt, Sister Carol, whose laughter and sage advice made the chore feel less like a task and more like a joyful collaboration. We navigated the cascade of pots, pans, and cutlery while swapping stories and indulging in playful banter, her hands moving deftly as she scrubbed away remnants of our hearty feast. This moment became a sanctuary, where the day's worries dissolved in the steam rising from the commercial dish washing machine, reminding us of the bonds we shared and the love that knit our family together. Wrapping up the evening, surrounded by the scents of soap and lingering spices, helped me realize that these simple tasks hold a profound significance, deepening connections and creating cherished memories that will last long after the plates are put away.

My evenings spent in the Riverside common room were a cherished ritual as we sat in various comfy chairs while the rich aroma of freshly baked goods wafted in from our shared kitchen. As lamplight danced across the communal space, laughter and lively conversations filled the room. The sisters of Riverside would share stories from our day and discuss everything from world news to the latest books we had read. The highlight of these gatherings was undoubtedly the assortment of baked goods we had prepared together—sweet bread still warm from the oven, delicate pastries dusted with powdered sugar, and rich chocolate brownies that tempted even the most disciplined among us. Each bite was a sweet reminder of our friendship, filled with love and care, as we bonded over shared experiences and the simple pleasure of tasty food. In those moments, amidst the laughter and the aroma of our culinary creations, we found not only comfort but also a deep sense of community that nourished our spirits just as much as the treats satisfied our bodies.

When the clock struck 9 PM, a serene hush fell over the common room, marking the sacred time for Compline, the final prayers of the day. This ritual, enveloped in a warm glow of flickering candlelight, provided a moment of reflection and gratitude as we chanted the Psalms and sought solace in the stillness of the evening. Each voice blended harmoniously, creating a soothing tapestry of sound that seemed to cleanse the burdens of the day. After our spiritual nourishment, we returned to our individual cells, where the faint scent of aged wood and the quiet recitations of the evening office lingered in the air. For me, the night would not end there. I nestled into my cozy nook, the faint glow of a desk lamp illuminating my textbooks and notes, as I delved into college studies. The juxtaposition of sacred rituals and academic pursuits made each night a unique blend of contemplation and intellectual growth, as I sought to balance my spiritual commitments with the aspirations of my scholarly journey. The world beyond the stone walls faded away, leaving only the satisfaction of knowledge gained and the tranquility of the dusky night enveloping me in a gentle embrace as I prepared for sleep.

Although I only lived in the convent for one year, the experience left an indelible mark on my soul, nurturing my faith in profound ways. The quietude of the surroundings, punctuated by the rhythmic tolling of bells, created an atmosphere ripe for contemplation and spiritual growth. Daily rituals— liturgy of hours, work or service, and communal meals—fostered a deep sense of community and belonging among the sisters, each one a mentor in her own right. The simplicity of convent life stripped away the distractions of the outside world, allowing me to connect deeply with my spirituality and reflect on the true essence of service and compassion. As I participated in various acts of community, whether it was washing dishes in the kitchen or painting crosses in the cemetery, I witnessed faith in action and began to understand the transformative power of love and kindness. Those moments of shared laughter and heartfelt discussions about faith and life challenges formed cherished memories that continue to inspire me. My time in the convent, though brief, proved a catalyst for a lifelong journey of faith, one that has remained a guiding light throughout my life.

A picture of me with Mom and Dad on the day I entered the convent as a postulant.