A Day in the Life of...
On this page one of our sisters give a brief account of what life is like for her as she lives her life as a Religious Sister of Charity.
SR. VIVIENNE
KELLET
Sunday dawned – almost. The light was
struggling to penetrate the thick cloud over
Birmingham. The snow had melted, thank God, and
gradually light penetrated the clouds as I prepared
to meet the day ahead. As I settled into my chair
at the patio window (I live in a ground floor flat)
I noticed there were two new snowdrops in bloom,
bringing the count to six! A few bluetits and a
robin were breakfasting at my bird feeder until a
squirrel scampered into the scene putting an end to
that. The bare trees were like lace against the
still grey sky. I began Morning Prayer in praise
and thanks. What else could anyone do?
At ten, I got out the car to take a neighbour to
visit his terminally ill wife who is in hospital.
Buses are few and far between on Sundays. May and I
both came to live in Bromford Park house within a
couple of weeks of each other in 2001 and quickly
became friends. Joe came a few years later, to live
in the flat below May. A romance blossomed and
after some time they were wed. Sadly, May will not
be with him for much longer. As we drove, he spoke
very movingly of his joy and delight in loving and
being loved by May. I can only hope she will die
happily and in peace and that he will be consoled.
I spent a little while by her bed and left for 11
o’clock Mass in St Catherine’s,
promising prayers for each of them. May will be
missed by all our residents.
I went to St Catherine’s for the eleven
o’clock Mass, since it was close to the
hospital. I am not officially attached to any
parish, but help in catechesis and pastoral work as
requested. It was some months since I had been in
St Catherine’s. (I normally go to St
Anne’s, where I am a minister of Word and
Eucharist, have a Communion round every Friday and
serve on the Parish Council.) Imagine my delight,
then, on returning to St Cath’s and
discovering a young girl I had helped to prepare
for First Holy Communion last year was serving
Mass. She was the picture of dignity and reverence.
She was a bit of a wriggler last year and tended to
cling to her mother in church. I knew she wanted
very much to be a server. I think I am every bit as
proud of her as her mother is! As though that were
not joy enough for me, I found that when the
children left for their own Liturgy of the Word, a
young couple I had accompanied on their Journey of
Faith (or R.C.I.A.) at the Cathedral last year,
left with them. At the end of Mass I congratulated
them on having discerned their ministry in the
parish. They said they had been invited to help
with the children and felt very much at home doing
so. Wonderful. Several people greeted me like old
friends. I was so pleased to be there.
After dinner the sun came out and I decided to go
for a walk. There is a reservoir in a park about
half a mile away from here and I headed that way.
As I drew near, an elderly couple left the park and
greeted me. Robert and Eileen are well into their
eighties and a couple of years ago they were both
very ill in different hospitals and family and
friends feared they would die without seeing each
other again. They both made a great recovery, thank
God. Since then I have seen them in church a few
times, but really didn’t think they would be
out walking on a cold, hard day. It was the watery
winter sun that drew them to the park, just as it
had drawn me. We chatted for a while before they
left for home. At the reservoir there was a huge
flock of gulls wheeling and sweeping above the
water. I saw a few swans, some coots and the
inevitable mallards.
Mentally kicking myself for not having brought my
camera, I continued through some woodland and
through into the playing fields, where the grass
looked fresh and green and the snow of the previous
days had quite melted. Appearances can be deceptive
- I soon found myself squelching through sloppy
patches of sodden grass. Emerging onto dry land I
saw a forsythia in bud. I broke off a branch,
planning to put it in water and watch it blossom.
Fine, in the woods, but I had to walk home through
streets full of houses clutching my branch and
pretending not to notice the sideways glances from
other walkers! (It was worth the embarrassment. Two
weeks later the display on my kitchen windowsill is
a joy not only for me but for all who pass
by.)
Home again, I had tea, Evening Prayer and settled
down with my knitting to listen to the radio. After
Brian D’Arcy’s Sunday Half Hour on BBC2
I made a few phone calls and headed for bed. It was
a good day.
Note: Names have been changed to protect the
privacy of the people in this article.