Parochial Days /Ch. 4 / Pt. 1/ Age of Reason

Paula

By the second grade, having reached the age of reason, it was time for my First Holy Communion. To the nun's delight I had become an extremely obedient and pious child. It became the utmost of importance to me that I excel in every endeavor. I could recite, from memory, the entire Baltimore Catechism, which was the book by which Catholic children studied their faith. It erased any individual thoughts that could possibly lead to sin. Sin. As in, missing church on Sunday, or eating meat on Friday. Those actions were mortal sins! If I committed either of those sins and then died before I confessed those transgressions to a priest . . . I’d go straight to the DEVIL. If I committed a lesser or venial sin, and died, well, I'd go to a place called purgatory. There, you waited around and prayed for other souls to enter heaven, until it was your turn for glory. I still didn't like any of it, but, had acquiesced to the reality that it was of no consequence, what I liked or didn't like.

The nun's were relentless in their teachings of discipline, scholastics, sports and self denial. These were all essential components in the making of a proper Catholic. I had finally succumbed to the demands with a passion that bordered upon fanaticism. One might have equated my fervor to The Stockholm Syndrome. Our elaborate Church processions, fully steeped in pomp and circumstance, created a sense of inner peace, a sense of grace and a righteous sense of entitlement. We were the chosen ones. Special. We were Roman Catholic . . . one, holy and apostolic. At each procession we schoolgirls wore long white dresses and floral wreaths. We walked the church’s long isle in purity, under a myriad of arches smothered in fresh flowers, held by the school boys, dressed in little black suits. They held onto the arches steadfastly, until all the girls had passed. Then, they carefully put down the arches and filled the first two pews opposite the girls. Then, and only then, could the rest of the congregation sit. Slightly high from the incense, my hands would clasped together in prayer, while visions of sainthood filled my thoughts. I joined the others in our parish song.

Oh Virgin Mother, Lady of Good Counsel

Sweetest picture an artist ever drew.

In all doubts, I fly to thee for guidance

Mother tell me, what am I to do.

However, at that same time, of such holiness, my life at home, was like living in a war zone.

	wolfwitch Wolf Witch	I look forward to the next one. Spellbinding writing Paula. Self denial has lasting reverberation, doesn't it? The Stockholm Syndrome is right! Posted by wolfwitch on Tuesday, November 24, 2009 - 9:02 PM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	Paula Paula Servetti	Ah, yes, self denial. That is a subject in itself, thanks for sticking with my tale. Posted by Paula on Tuesday, November 24, 2009 - 11:58 PM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	Mad Butterfly Divine Madness	A few of my girlfriends went to Alverno Catholic high school for girls. I, and my girlfriend, Suzi Portilla, on the other hand, were allowed to do as we saw fit, within the boundaries of our status, and I exercised my status as a public school, peasant rebel waif for all it was worth! Oh, but the stories about the nuns at Alverno, geez loise, made me glad to have emerged from the lower echelons of Pasadena society, even if only for the purpose of the avoidance of a nun's wrath on me! The stories sounded so dreadful... Posted by Mad Butterfly on Tuesday, November 24, 2009 - 11:49 PM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	Paula Paula Servetti	Yea, I did't go to a Catholic high school either, or Junior high, Madamoiselle from Armentieres! Posted by Paula on Tuesday, November 24, 2009 - 11:55 PM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	MusicDiva Music Lover	Ahhh...your words take me back to my long-forgotten days in parochial jail school...Sister Mary Theresa Ann and her ruler would snap me out of my daydream (usually involving me on a horse!) with a quick rap to whatever part of my anatomy she could reach. You have an amazing gift of recall and detail...kudos! Posted by MusicDiva on Wednesday, November 25, 2009 - 2:17 AM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	Paula Paula Servetti	Seems it is a universal disease, having been taught by nuns. I recall those things that left the biggest impressions.) I was overly sensitive, which at times put me in zone that somehow my thinking capacity took over, as I went somewhere else, but the computing remained. It is a weird thing to explain. Thank-you for reading. . .So, you love horses! I imagine they were and it looks like are, a coping technique for you. (funny, everyone mentions a ruler, but I never saw one used on anyone, even the boys. Posted by Paula on Wednesday, November 25, 2009 - 11:11 AM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	Paula Paula Servetti	I don't know if "coping technique" was conveyed properly by me . . . such as, a love or passion for something, helps us cope with the more difficult aspects of life. Posted by Paula on Wednesday, November 25, 2009 - 1:45 PM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	MusicDiva Music Lover	Actually, 'coping technique' is pretty accurate, in the sense that it allowed me to escape certain situations both mentally and, at times, physically. Paula, I've gone back and read your entire blog, and I must say it's fascinating. You have a real gift for bringing the past alive for the rest of us. As Patricia noted, your writing makes us feel like we are in that moment with you. Great job....you're a natural! Posted by MusicDiva on Thursday, November 26, 2009 - 11:43 PM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	scott Kenneth s cornwall	speaking of catholic girls...here's one of my favorites, her modeling work is outrageously bizarre and original. (actually, I have no clue if she's catholic; all I know is, she's originally from Milan and likes to be a bit shocking) Wrapped in plastic for public consumption. Posted by scott on Wednesday, November 25, 2009 - 11:32 AM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	Paula Paula Servetti	I don't really know how to reply to this, Scott. Is this a fantasy that you are sharing? Yuk. Yuk. Posted by Paula on Wednesday, November 25, 2009 - 12:23 PM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	scott Kenneth s cornwall	When I first saw Nana's myspace I was a little shocked, then fascinated. The work she did with Saturno Butto in particular has religious overtones and is thought provoking. It made me think of how the church outlawed medical research in the dark ages, for example. A lot of the ideas are those of the model, not the photographer. My sister wore a back brace during high school...there are photos in there of Nana in a back brace, and it reminded me of my sister and the standing joke her boyfriend at the time made..."are you going out tonight, Polly?" and her boyfriend would clue us in..."I'm bringing my toolbox" he would say. I told Polly of this and she dug the brace out of the basement. She's thinking of making a floor lamp or something out of it. She wore that brace 23 hours a day. When she walked, she looked like a penguin. Posted by scott on Wednesday, November 25, 2009 - 5:34 PM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	BettyLuvs2rock	The biggest impression made by (the ruler) is something my husband Mike remembers well! He attented Catholic school until the eighth grade! He was always a bad boy and his Dad was forever being called to come to the school! Not much has changed! Posted by BettyLuvs2rock on Saturday, November 28, 2009 - 10:10 AM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	Paula Paula Servetti	Well, he is living proof of THE RULER! Discipline was such a big thing. It really sucked! Posted by Paula on Sunday, November 29, 2009 - 1:10 PM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

	BettyLuvs2rock	One more event to add after I spoke to Mike and asked him one thing he remembers most! He was an alter boy in 7th and 8th grade. One day the class was singing and the Nun told Mike he wasn't singing on key (Mind you, he can't carry a tune anyway!) so, she walked up to him and slapped him across the face! Once again, his Dad had to come to the class and praised the Nun, but when Mike got home he received a whipping by his Mom! He never forgave his Dad for not standing up for him. Posted by BettyLuvs2rock on Saturday, December 12, 2009 - 1:39 PM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]

Paula Paula Servetti

Wow! It seems that nuns don't like men. That was one of my main reasons for quitting the idea of becoming a nun. Men! Or, should I say boys. In fifth grade, I grew to like them too much! Your husband has some lousy memories too! Thanks for sharing them, Betts! Posted by Paula on Saturday, December 12, 2009 - 1:50 PM [Reply to this] [Remove] [Block User]