Echoes Page 0,72

she had entered a safe place, and knew it was the right one for her.

The nun looked at her, assessed her tall thin frame, and nodded as she set out a plain black garment that would reach her ankles, and a short white cotton veil that would cover her hair. It was not the habit of the order, but Amadea knew that it would be six months before she would be allowed to wear it, and only then if they felt she had earned it. It could take a lot longer, as the Mother Superior had explained to her before she went in, and the older nuns would have to vote on it. What she would wear in the meantime would identify her as a postulant. She would not receive the black veil of the order, until she took her solemn vows after eight years.

The nun left her alone for a moment to change all her clothes, down to her underwear. She had left a pair of rough sandals for her, which were the only shoes she would wear from now on, with bare feet. The order was discalced, which meant that they did not wear proper shoes, as part of the discomforts which they embraced.

Amadea put on what they left her, with a feeling of excitement. She wouldn't have been happier if she had been putting on her wedding gown, and she had the same feeling her mother had the day she had worn the white linen dress she'd made of lace tablecloths for her wedding. This was the beginning of a new life for Amadea, in some ways it was like being engaged to Christ. The wedding would take eight years to prepare. Even now, she could hardly wait.

The nun came back in a few minutes and everything Amadea had worn coming in disappeared into a basket for the poor, including her good shoes. Her mother was keeping everything else for her, she said, in case she changed her mind. More than that, she was keeping it as one did the clothes and possessions of dead children, out of sentiment, and the inability to part with them. They meant nothing to Amadea now. Her life was here.

Once dressed, she was led into the chapel for prayers, with the other nuns. Afterward, there was a long silence, during which the community examined their consciences, as they did each day, remembering the sins they had committed, the unkind things they'd thought of, the petty jealousies, the longings they had for food or people or comforts they had once thought were important and had to learn to strip themselves of. It was a good place for Amadea to start, as she reproached herself for her attachment to her mother and sister, more even than to Christ. No one explained to her what the silence meant, she had heard of it beforehand and used the time well.

While the other nuns ate lunch, she was taken to the Mother Superior's office. She would not eat until dinnertime that night, which was the first sacrifice she would make. As did the Mother Superior, in order to talk to her.

“All is well, my child?” she asked kindly after greeting her with the words “Peace of Christ,” which Amadea repeated before she spoke.

“Yes, thank you, Mother.”

“We are happy to have you here.” The community was large these days. There was no lack of vocations. Edith Stein joining them two years earlier had not done them any harm either. There had been more talk of it than she liked, but it had awakened others to their vocations, even as it had this young girl. Edith Stein had become Teresa Benedicta a Cruce the year before, and Amadea would eventually meet her, although personal fascinations and admiration were strictly forbidden. They were a community of sisters, not a collection of individuals with separate personalities and their own ideas. They were here to serve Christ and pray for the world, nothing more than that, and nothing less, as the Mother Superior reminded Amadea, and she said she understood.

“You will share a cell with three other sisters. We are silent except at meals and recreation, when you may speak about matters of the community, and nothing else. You will not have personal friends here. We are all friends of Christ.” Amadea nodded again, in awe of her.

The Mother Superior was a tall spare woman with powerful eyes and a kind face. It was impossible to tell her age, and it