“Oh, dear Lord, Please.” “Good Gravy!” “Lord, I want one soul for every bead!” These were not uncommon phrases in the Religious Articles (RA) room at the Franciscan Sisters TOR, in Toronto Ohio. I volunteered in the RA room every week helping now retired Sr. Grace Anne make rosaries, sacrifice beads, and chaplets. In the two years I worked with her, she not only taught me many RA techniques, but countless life lessons that I will never forget.

Sr. Grace Anne is the oldest TOR sister with a remarkable story. In her eighty years she has not only been a sister, but a wife, mother, widow, grandmother and great-grandmother as well. In the two hours I would help her once a week, we would talk often about our families and all that had been going on the previous week. One theme that reoccurred periodically in our conversations was death. She was not scared in the least. In her eyes, it was loitering up the path, taking the scenic route, and ignoring her fervent pleas for it to hurry up. She would comment that she has only been waiting forty years. When I first heard her say this, I was amazed at how serious she was, how undaunted she was. She gave me an outlook on death that I had only heard about before. I had never witnessed such fearlessness in a person so close to me, since my other examples had been the Saints.

“Good Gravy” was often heard when a shower of beads would cascade onto the floor. As she bent down to pick them up, Sr. Grace Anne would say, “Lord, could one soul from Purgatory go to Heaven for every bead? Please!” Through her example I was able to offer up my work more and more for the salvation of souls, realizing that even the smallest and most tedious of tasks could produce fruit for the benefit of others.

Every year for my birthday Sister would sing me happy birthday and give me a present or goodie that she had prepared. The “celebration” with Sr. Grace Anne was often the most memorable time of my birthday. One year she took me into the kitchen where a brownie and three or four sisters were waiting. They sang me Happy Birthday and then we ate the brownie and talked. I felt as if Sister always knew what would cheer me up or what I needed most.

I still volunteer in RA, now helping another sister, who replaced Sr. Grace Anne. I am not able to see Sister as much as before, but this makes the times when we do see each other more special than ever. Sr. Grace Anne’s simplicity, humor, and gentleness, have imprinted themselves deeply into my mind and heart. I will never forget the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed her bubbly contagious laugh. I will always remember her clapping her hands in glee when a new Pope was elected, and I will always cherish the grandmotherly personality she continuously displayed.
More than her actions, however, I will always remember her example, for in acting, she showed me how to act. In living she showed me how to live. In laughing she taught me how to laugh. In loving, she taught me how to love.