A hundredfold blessings

by Sister Leonora Donnelly, CSC

"Isaac sowed his crops in that land, and that year reaped a hundredfold." Genesis 26:12

Almost 40 years ago as a young Sister of the Holy Cross, I asked to go to the "foreign missions," now called the Apostolate Abroad. Eventually I was accepted, and after six months of study and preparation I arrived in Bangladesh.

While there I helped abandoned babies find homes with loving couples who seem to be everywhere in the world – those who so much want a baby of their own but cannot have children. I believe every baby should have two special people to call mom and dad.

One Holy Cross priest was forever finding tiny, malnourished babies in the jungle. He had many helpers on the lookout for these "jungle" babies. Father would send a baby to me with a scribbled note: "Here she is. Isn't she beautiful? Hope you can find her a home if she makes it."

The baby would be wrapped in a towel, which I had to return, and was usually clutching a beer bottle filled with milk. I still haven't figured out where he got nipples that fit perfectly on those bottles. Actually, I haven't figured out where he got the bottles either.

One of the peak experiences of my life was when we brought 20 abandoned babies to Grand Rapids, Michigan. I will never forget that night in the airport when we placed the babies into the outstretched arms of the waiting mothers and fathers.

Everyone was crying. So many people were made so happy – grandparents, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, friends, and even complete strangers. These parents had waited a year for their babies. And each family thought I had chosen the very best baby in the world for them.

In the 26 years I worked in Bangladesh, I arranged 104 adoptions. Most of the abandoned babies were from Mother Teresa's orphanage. 

Having a loving family of my own was surely an inspiration and a motivating factor in my life.

I was born on the feast of St. Dominic, and before I was 18 hours old my Dominican aunt announced to the world that someday I would be a Dominican sister.

Before I was even 18 years old, I pleaded with my dad to let me become a Sister of the Holy Cross. I gave him all the reasons why I should go to Indiana and enter the novitiate, and he gave me reasons why I should not. Here was one Irishman who did not want his daughter in a convent!

Eventually we compromised. I would work for six months and then we would talk about my future. During those six months he hoped I would forget about being a religious, but I went from New York to Washington, D.C., on four weekends and during these "holidays" I met a variety of Holy Cross sisters and learned more about the Congregation.

Six months later I presented my application papers to my father and asked him to sign them since I was underage and needed his permission to enter Holy Cross. He was a good parent, a Catholic and an honest person. He wanted me to realize what I was doing and to be happy. By now, however, he knew I was determined and would not give up. He gave his consent, but not until I promised him that I would come home if I discovered that religious life was not for me.

Filling out that application form was more difficult than I imagined. I knew I wanted to be a sister, but how do you put into writing an answer to the question: "Why do you want to enter religious life?"

Today, more than 50 years later, I still believe that a vocation to religious life is such a mystery that it cannot be fully answered on paper. The word gift comes closest in trying to explain God's gift of himself and our response to God and his people.

One of my girlfriends knew how much I wanted to be accepted so she was looking up all the "right answers" from scripture. She suggested I write that I wanted the "hundredfold" and life everlasting. At 18 I was not thinking of life everlasting, but of living! Finally, I said to her, "If anyone asked you why you are getting married, you would answer 'love.' That's my answer too!" She still thought, just to be sure, that I should add something about feeding the hungry and clothing the naked.

The next question was easier: "Why do you want to be a Sister of the Holy Cross?"

When I was in the seventh grade, our family moved from Long Island, New York, into Manhattan. I enrolled at St. Paul the Apostle School and was taught by Holy Cross sisters. I saw that the sisters were happy! They loved us and we knew it. The sisters' convent was an apartment like every other on 61st Street; only a simple brass plate on the door told us the sisters lived there. They had little in the way of material things, but they were rich in a different way. They had such a wonderful spirit. They had to be the happiest people in New York City and I wanted to share that life.

It took almost four weeks before I heard from Saint Mary's. By that time, my dear father was quite upset with "those nuns." Didn't they know what they were getting? He said, "Well, if they don't want you, we sure do!" Thank God, they did want me!

Looking back, I can hardly remember my novitiate. I know there were 30 in our group. We learned about Holy Cross, what it meant to be a sister, and we certainly came to know ourselves in greater depth. I wish I could say I had a deep prayer life, but it really takes a lifetime to develop such a relationship, and I was truly a novice at it. I did have the desire for God, and I'm sure the Lord filled us with his love and helped us with our studies.

I remember one evening when two missionaries from India talked to us about their experiences. After the talk one of the sisters asked, "Who would like to go to India?" My hand shot up. The sister who directed the postulant program was sitting next to me. She smiled and asked, "What makes you think you could go all the way to India when you get so homesick here in Indiana?" The sister from India replied for me, "Homesickness shows you came from a good family. If God wants you there, you will go!"

After I made my first vows, I was sent to teach at St. Mary's in Alexandria, Virginia. I taught first grade and found the children so trusting, alive and innocent. I stayed at St. Mary's for four years and my heart broke when I was moved to Blessed Sacrament School in Chevy Chase, Washington, D.C. I learned that, in community, one of the hardest things was leaving a ministry, saying goodbyes and beginning all over again. Each new place was a challenge, and I was sure no place could ever be like the last.

I've also found that people don't seem to understand why the sisters in the Apostolate Abroad are always so happy about going back to Brazil, Uganda, Ghana, Peru or Bangladesh. You see, people think we have given up so much and our life is so hard. However, the real truth is we love it! Our life is simple and we do without some things, but we love the people, our work and especially the great community of sisters with whom we share each day. There we find the "hundredfold" in so many ways.

For example, in Bangladesh at our beautiful college compound, we have such fertile soil that everything grows. Nowhere else in Holy Cross could you find a hedge of gardenias and poinsettias banking the wall, orchids on the mango and jack fruit trees, or coconut and date palms on the school playground. Yes, the weather is unbearable at times, but just when you think you will die from the heat, the monsoon rains come; when you feel you will scream if it doesn't stop raining, the heat begins again. You know that soon the lovely "winter" will be upon you.

In Bangladesh the sisters' work is mainly education and we have formal education in our colleges and schools. We also have literacy programs for the very, very poor children and cooperative programs with the village people. In addition, there is a novitiate for young Bengali women who want to join Holy Cross.

In 1991 on a home visit, my sister became very ill and I decided to stay in the United States. She died two years later. While living in California, I took a special year's course in hospital chaplaincy. After receiving my certification I began working in a long-term care facility for the elderly. Just as I had loved taking care of the babies, I fell in love with the older adults. I've worked in Marrero, Louisiana, in San Pierre, Indiana, and am now in South Bend, Indiana, at one of the nursing homes.

Over the years I have maintained connections with the Bengali babies I brought to the United States. In the past five years I have attended two of these children's weddings and received graduation notices from many of them - and all are going on to college! I am so proud of all of their accomplishments.

In 1999 I celebrated my golden jubilee as a Sister of the Holy Cross. At the celebration commemorating my 50 years of vowed life, my family came from Florida, Virginia and New York. It was a perfectly gorgeous day and I knew I had received the "hundredfold" over and over again.