Excerpt from "An Examination of Conscience"
Laura Pirott-Quintero

For a good three decades I was fine, living my life in community—enjoying my time teaching, doing works of service, alongside my fellow sisters.Then, one day, I started to notice a change in Peg.She started to talk about this student Helen with greater and greater frequency—that she was so smart, so well-traveled for her young age.She spoke French and Spanish, played the guitar.And then Peg invited her to that prayer meeting that several of us were hosting.About five girls came—mostly seniors from the Campus Ministry team.Peg seemed struck with religious fervor that night, composing the most beautiful prayers of longing for God, and leading us all in waves of ecstatic trances.She had the same new bride glow that she must have had when she professed final vows, when we were still in habit, and she wore a wedding dress.

One day, I couldn't help myself.It had been years since I had snuck in to Peg's room next door to stroke the beautiful things her mother had given her. There was the small porcelain doll dressed in full habit—just like in our pre-Vatican II days, two fragrant pink candles that rested on pewter candelabra.And there were the books—so many and so varied:Madame Bovary, Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, The Scarlet Letter.I loved to be surrounded by these beautiful things and passionate stories—and my stolen time alone in Peg's room nurtured a sense of communion with her.We had so many things in common—a love of books and objets d'art were two areas where we were completely compatible. There was such love in my heart for her.I always felt shy about talking about these delicate feelings—and I would certainly never consciously disclose these intimacies to Dr. Becker.

Though I wonder what Dr. Becker would say about the half-finished letter I found on Peg's desk that day.It was addressed to Helen and it began:"Dearest Helen, I feel so blessed since you came into my life. The Lord seems to be smiling on our friendship.Yesterday afternoon we said to one another that we are gifts/blessings to each other.I think that one way in which you bless me is that you have taught me how important it is to live each day as it is and not to anticipate and try to live out in detail the day that has yet to be.Always I come back to 'the gaze after' when we are most vulnerable to each other—most without pretence—most ourselves.Helen, for all that we have been and will be to each other, I give thanks to God..."

Perhaps Dr. Becker, with her warped mind, might find some hidden Freudian meaning—especially the part about the gaze.Maybe she'd say something along the lines that Peg was trying to ignite and live out her maternal love vicariously by displacing her unfulfilled yearnings onto Helen.Oh, you're good Ronnie.It's amazing how much gobbledygook theories and jargon you can pick up from just a few psychotherapy sessions.

Shortly after, Helen began to come over more often. I admit I did nothing about it.None of the sisters did, though I imagine I was the only one who really knew. I suspect the others were spared the sounds that would later come through the room next door, the ones I heard weekly for over a year, as I rocked in my chair reading my breviary in the adjacent room. I hate to admit it, but there was something about the whole thing that thrilled me&mdsah;took my breath away.It was the way it would begin.