When I was a young girl we had a nun who struck me as odd. Sr. X wore her skirt shorter than the other sisters and her veil was smaller. She also preferred the boys to the girls, particularly shy, lady-like girls which I was. Thankfully, some wise person kept her in the office so she had little to do with the kids. Years later she got a job at one of the boy's high schools and the last time I saw her she'd stopped wearing her even modified habit and was sporting the suit, almost buzz cut short hair and sour expression of most modern nuns.
From second grade to eighth grade I never saw anything about Sr. X that struck me as holy, pious or admirable. I didn't want to be like her.
My school had another nun who was remarkable. Sr. Jane Mariae was a serious nun. She wore her full habit with her skirt hem to her ankle and her rosary on her belt and nobody, not Paul VI, not Mother Superior or any mocking fellow liberal nun at the convent fazed her one bit. She never tried to be my big goofy adult friend. We all adored and admired Sr. Jane Mariae and we were sure that she loved us. I wanted to be like her. Her pious example and the examples of my other good nuns are among the reasons why I'm still Catholic.
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