It was my first year in the congregation. The convent was located at the back, inside a catholic school runs by the parish in that area. Before the school was build, the convent is already existed. It was a combination of cement for the posts and floors, and made of wood for its walls. People who visits there says that it looks like a ship inside and out, because of its long hallway connecting the parlor ( a room in a monastery for holding conversations ) area to the dining area. The walls were never painted thus the original color of cement and woods remained. And there’s a century old acacia tree in front of it.
By that time, there were 3 professed (a full- pledge nun who completed and passed the process of formation) sisters and we’re 4 postulants (a candidate, especially one seeking admission into a religious order) living in there.
Our mistress informed us that we have to go to the city to pay our last respect to the elderly nun that had passed away a few days ago. The interment will be on the following weekend, early in the morning. Since the travel time will take 2 to 3 hours, we decided to leave the convent on late afternoon the day before the funeral.
Usually, we leave the light on in front of the convent whenever we go out. But this time, we decided to leave it off.
We came back the next day and we’re greeted by the guard on duty.
And he said to one of the nuns, ” Sister, I didn’t know that you were all left early. What’s the occasion last night? I saw all the lights in the convent were on and heard sisters laughing.”
“If you knew that your life was merely a phase or short, short segment of your entire existence, how would you live? Knowing nothing ‘real’ was at risk, what would you do? You’d live a gigantic, bold, fun, dazzling life. You know you would. That’s what the ghosts want us to do – all the exciting things they no longer can.” — Chuck Palahniuk
P.S. The above story is NOT the reason why I left the convent.