My entrance to the convent caught by surprise both family and friends, as they considered me the least expected to do so. Though as a young girl, I do remember an adult commenting that my comportment befits a “madre”-to-be when I grow up. My vocation call continues to be a mystery to me, as God’s choice is totally beyond human comprehension. Fully acknowledging my unworthiness, I am ever grateful for His fidelity that kept me going through the years.
As in most vocation stories the seed was planted within the family circle. My parents were not the pious type, though my grandmother was, leading our prayers in Spanish and sometimes even in Latin. A jolly spinster aunt took care of preparing me for first Holy Communion, subsequent weekly confessions and daily masses in our parish church. Mom was an excellent teacher, and always found time for charitable activities besides her involvement in cultural and civic associations in the community. My earliest recollection of Dad was his sit-up prayer-meditation in bed after rising in the morning. He was a very kind person, supported his only younger brother who married at an early age. Uncle Pons’ nine children broke into loud cries when Dad claimed a bride at the age of 45, Mom was 15 years his junior.
My schooling in the secularized University of the Philippines enhanced this vocation in the making. Camaraderie with classmates and dormitory mates who frequent the UP sawali chapel for daily mass was a deep influence. Never was I within the inner circle of Fr. John P. Delaney, the well loved UP Chaplain, but I enjoyed participating in the various UP Student Catholic Action activities in the campus. Among these were regular jam sessions in the Gregory Terrace where Fr. Delaney’s presence signalled boogie-woogie tunes. He frowned on cheek to cheek dancing with slow drag music. Never missed a session on Fr. Delaney’s full packed series on Love, Courtship and Marriage during lunch breaks. The UPSCA choir practice sessions and concerts was one of the highlights of my college days.
The call was felt strongly in my young adult life, time when I wanted to be, and do so many things. Even thought of going to Vietnam during the war years as a volunteer was considered. Possibility of marriage was also entertained, but the idea was shattered when an idealized couple broke up so violently. When the call became too loud to be ignored, I tried to drown it by plunging myself into a myriad of varied activities. Till an inner voice stilled me, “It is you whom I want, not all the work that you are doing for Me”. The die was cast!
Next challenge was confiding this desire to my widowed Mom. This was agony as I could not bear to tell her myself, being her only daughter. When the pressure became unbearable, I decided to go to Baguio with a girl friend for a breather. December was not the usual month to visit the summer capital so Mom suspected that I might have eloped with a boyfriend. She tried to get some clues by reading my diary and discovered in the script all that was in my heart. The Lord saved me from the pain of breaking the news to her in person. She wrote me a letter which she inserted in the pages of my diary. When I got back from Baguio everyone in the family was aware of my plans. It was quite a disappointment as my dream to surprise everybody about becoming a nun did not come to pass.
Mom knew that I was a strong-willed girl, she was hoping that becoming a nun was just one of those things I wanted to be. She persuaded me to think of her plight in old age, and of my only younger brother who needs my guidance. Wondered how Dad would have taken my decision had he lived beyond my 14th year. He openly remarked that he would marry me off as young as possible to have the joy of seeing a grandchild.
To think things over Mom offered me the chance to join a pilgrimage tour in Europe. This proposal was discussed with Mother Francis Flynn who told me that as a religious, I can also have the chance of travelling as a missionary. For my spiritual director, Fr. Karel van Ooteghem, CICM, there is a world of difference travelling as a young lady, and going to a foreign land as a missionary sister. I do love to travel but at this point in time I deeply felt that I would be equally happy whether I go or give up the travel plan. With this disposition (which I later discovered as the spiritual gift of holy indifference) I accepted Mom’s offer, thanking her for her generosity in financing the trip with hard earned money. She was cautioned though, that the convent will still be my final destination.
Before leaving, I bade Mother Francis goodbye and told her of a wild dream – that of proceeding to the novitiate in Los Angeles to do away with painful family adieus. I was told that this would be a deep deception for Mom, and that I may enter the Philippine novitiate which will be opening soon upon my return. Good Shepherd calling cards were handed to me, and was encouraged to visit Good Shepherd convents in Europe and in the United States.
My travelling companions included a childhood friend and her husband, plus a co-teacher of Mom from MIT. Other members of travel group were mostly elderly but everyone was young at heart. After a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, a land tour of Europe brought us to a number of cities and shrines in the Old Continent. When we reached Tours, a travelling companion agreed to accompany me to visit the nearby Good Shepherd Mother House in Angers. After a day’s visit which gave me the chance to meet Mother Ursula, former Superior General, we rejoined the rest of our co-pilgrims and headed for Lourdes. It was a fantastic experience all the way, feasting my eyes on all the sights and marvelling at the unique charm of each European country. However, my desire to enter the convent was never dimmed by all the novelty and excitement throughout these meanderings.
After Europe I landed in New York with a couple of businesswomen in our travel group. Mom had a letter waiting for me in the hotel desk. It was her last card – offering me to enrol in an Interior Decoration course in the New York School of Interior Design, mentioning that she sold her vintage piano to finance the summer course. She knew that this was one of those things that interested me. Visited the Good Shepherd Convent in Manhattan, and shared my predicament with the Superior who counselled me among other things, to pay attention to decorating my interior soul. She however offered their place for me to stay, in case I find difficulty in getting a boarding place while doing the course.
And so I started my unplanned aspirancy in this manner in the Good Shepherd Convent in 337 East 17thSt. New York City. During the day I go to upper Manhattan for my course, taking my packed lunch in Central Park with my South American classmates. In the evenings were interactions with the teenaged pregnant girls, mostly Afro-Americans, in their apartment in the 6th floor of our seven storey apartment building. Weekends were off days for the staff so my time was spent fully with girls. Had to learn to keep the bundle of keys of the house always safe in my body as the girls could get hold of these to run away.
In the middle of the course, I got a letter from Mother Francis telling me that after much prayer she thought that I could enter the novitiate in Los Angeles. This was quite a disturbing surprise as I was all set upon my return to enter the Philippine novitiate. It was such an ordeal to make a definitive decision by myself in a foreign country. Found some relief from the stress in doing research for my course projects. Another distraction was the contact made with a long lost cousin of Dad who emigrated to America at the age of sixteen by stowing away in a boat. Uncle Ray exchanged communications with Dad through the years and I would be the first relative he would meet in person after almost half a century.
There was nothing holding me back from making the lifetime decision, so I requested my parish priest and spiritual director to send me the necessary church documents required for entrance to the novitiate. Fr. Karel admitted that being my accomplice in the “crime” made him wary of Mom. After finishing the summer course which was co-terminus with my aspirancy - I headed for Philadelphia to meet Uncle Ray. His family lavished me with so much care and affection. During my stay with them I composed a letter for Mom where I poured out all my sentiments about leaving all for the sake of the Lord, confiding her to the same Lord who cannot be outdone in generosity. The letter was enclosed to another note addressed to an uncle. This was mailed in time to be received in Manila after the date of my actual entrance to the novitiate on September 14. 1961. The rest was history.
The Sisters in Los Angeles wanted to meet me at the airport but I informed them that I would be coming to the convent by myself. During that pre-Vatican period, there would be no stepping out once one enters the hallowed portals of the convent. So I decided to have a last fling, visited Disneyland all by myself, and stayed overnight in a student hostel.
Upon knocking at the convent door the following morning, Sister Cornelius asked me whom I wanted to visit. After declaring my intention she summoned to the parlour Mother Lourdes, Superior of the House and Mother Paul, the Novice Mistress. Each one was holding an article of postulant’s black habit for me to change on. Each one also took care of lacing my new Dr. Scholl boy shoes. And so I said adieu to my well worn heels which was dragged during the wanderlust.
In various vocation talks I have always struggled to articulate why I chose to be a religious. In my first interview with Mother Francis, she asked me if I was ever engaged. My response was “No, because I have to be true to myself. Could not imagine devoting all my life solely just to one man and the children I would bring to life. I feel I was made to love more than just one family”. Many, many years later, when asked by a group of ex pat ladies in Paris why I became a Sister, my spontaneous response was “One man is not enough for me!” A statement which elicited roars of loud laughter. Had to explain exactly what I meant with the same reasoning.
Lately I came across in Timothy Radcliffe’s book the terminology that resonated in my heart which has eluded me all these years. He spoke about that unbounded love that gives the vow of celibacy a sublime significance in this day and age. Yes it is this gift of unbounded love that had given me the courage and inspiration to volunteer to serve in a borderless world, being all to all men and women.
Victoria A. Joson, RGS
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