was ready for college. She insisted that she didn't want to go. She was happy here, with them, doing small things for the nuns, errands and chores, and thoughtful gestures for which she took no credit. But with the writing talent she had, Mother Gregoria refused to allow her to neglect her education. The poignant stories she wrote showed extraordinary talent, perception, and insight. They were filled with pathos, and a tenderness that tore at the heart just to read them, but there was a strength about them too. Her writing style was that of a much older person, and certainly not one who had spent their entire adolescence in a convent.
“So what are we going to do about school?” Mother Gregoria asked her when she turned sixteen, after speaking to all of her teachers. They had agreed in unison that Gabriella was entirely ready for college and it was a crime not to send her.
“We're going to ignore it,” Gabriella said firmly. She was terrified of the outside world by then, and had no interest in venturing back into a life that had so desperately hurt her. She never wanted to leave the safe haven of St. Matthew's, not for a single moment. And they teased her about being like the old nuns who complained every time they had to leave the convent to go to the doctor or the dentist. The younger ones still enjoyed going out from time to time, to see relatives, or go to the library, or a movie. But not Gabbie. She preferred to sit in her room and write stories.
“Being here is not for the purpose of shunning the world, Gabriella,” Mother Gregoria said firmly. “We are here to serve God by giving Him our talents, by bringing them to a world that needs what we have to give, not depriving it of ourselves because we are too frightened to venture out of the convent. Think of the Sisters who work at Mercy Hospital every day. What if they chose to sit in their rooms and daydream, because they were too afraid to take care of the male patients? Ours is not a life of cowardice, Gabriella, but of service.” She was met by eyes filled with fear, and silent resistance. Gabrielia had no intention of leaving the convent to go to college. Natalie was a junior at Ithaca by then, but even her enthusiastic letters, or the prospect of joining her, did nothing to sway Gabrielia.
“I won't do it.” For the first time in her years there she defied the Mother Superior, and was surprisingly stubborn about it.
“You will have no choice when the time comes,” Mother Gregoria said, her lips narrowing into a thin line. She didn't want to have to force her, but if that was the only way to get her to go, she would be willing to do it. “You are part of this community, and you will do as I tell you. You're not old enough to make these decisions, Gabrielia, and you're being extremely foolish.” She then ended the subject, annoyed at how resistant Gabrielia was. Mother Gregoria knew it was based on a terror of entering the world again, but she wasn't going to allow her to give in to it. Gabriella knew it wasn't healthy, but she wasn't going to give an inch. She felt safe here, she didn't want to be part of a world that had once hurt her so greatly. In all ways, spiritually and physically, at sixteen, she had removed herself from it, and she had every intention of remaining a recluse at St. Matthew's.
Mother Gregoria told her teachers to apply to Columbia for her, and they insisted Gabriella fill out the application. It was a remarkable battle between them, but in the end, complaining bitterly and swearing she wouldn't go, Gabriella did it. And she was accepted, naturally, and given a full scholarship, which thrilled everyone but Gabbie. The reason they had chosen Columbia, other than the obvious prestige of the school, was the fact that she could attend classes and still live at the convent.
“Now what?” she asked miserably when Mother Gregoria told her about the scholarship. It was June and she was nearly seventeen, and for the first time in her years with them, she was acting like a spoiled baby.
“You have until September to resign yourself to it, my child. You can live here while you go. But you must attend classes.”