CHAPTER XV.
My Recommendation From the Doctors of Portland—The Good Samaritan—I Affiliate With a Protestant Church—My New Work.
When I came to Portland, and before I had settled with the community, I decided that I would try to make my living by nursing, as that was practically all I knew.
I had my diploma to show that I was a graduated nurse, that is, so the diploma said, and in addition to that I received the signatures of eighty-eight physicians of Portland, recommending me as an efficient nurse, so I thought I had sufficient proof that I was capable to do at least ordinary nursing.
My recommendation from the physicians was as follows:
Portland, Oregon, July 31, 1912.
THIS IS TO CERTIFY that we, the undersigned, physicians and surgeons in the City of Portland, Oregon, have been well acquainted for many years with Elizabeth Schoffen, otherwise known as Sister Lucretia, and have been thoroughly familiar with her work as a nurse and member of the order of Sisters of Charity of Providence at St. Vincent's Hospital in the City of Portland; that in our opinion she is a thoroughly competent nurse;
That for a number of years prior to July, 1911, she was in charge of one of the floors at St. Vincent's Hospital, and was an efficient and capable superintendent and officer; that to the best of our knowledge and belief, while a nurse at St. Vincent's Hospital and particularly while in charge of one of the floors, she performed faithfully and efficiently all duties entrusted to her by the management of the hospital and by the doctors who came in contact with her.
As I have stated above, I received the signatures of eighty-eight prominent physicians and surgeons of Portland to this document, the original of which I have in safe-keeping.
With these recommendations and the promise of several of the physicians who were prominent at St. Vincent's that they would help me get started in my work, I opened a nursing home in East Portland with a friend nurse, in September.
Nearly every day during the fall and winter I went in search of work—most of the time walking, as nickels were not very plentiful—visiting the doctors' offices, hoping against hope that I might induce them to send a few patients to the Home.
During the winter we just about made expenses. As yet, I had a very faint idea of how the Roman Catholic boycott was influencing the pubic—probably not openly, but influencing it just the same, so that people were afraid to come to the Home, or to send anyone there. By the end of winter I realized that I could not succeed in this manner, but, nevertheless, I put forth every effort.
It had been almost a year since I had left the Romish institution. I had not become accustomed to the ways of the world sufficiently to know how to search for work intelligently. I was completely "down and out," not knowing what to do to make my living except to nurse, and I had been a failure at that up to this time, being unable to obtain the work. My sorrow weighed upon my mind and heart, which was already broken and crushed by the awful Romish convent cruelty and oppression. No priest, no sister, nor was ever a messenger from any of their so-called "religious and charitable" institutions, sent to me to do a kind turn whatever. After thirty-one years of service to the Roman Catholic System, it seemed to me that the hardest and harshest of masters, not of hell itself, would have shown me a little mercy.
It was in this condition that, one day in the late winter I had been out from early in the morning, walking the streets in quest of some honest employment that I might keep body and soul together. My clothing was very thin; my feet nearly bare. I arrived home about nine o'clock in the evening, tired and disappointed from the day's unsuccessful effort, as I had done many other nights. Had I been successful, it would have helped the woman I was with just as much as it would have helped me, and it would only be natural to think that she would have been very anxious to know about the day's result. But, quite to the contrary, when I arrived home this particular evening the doors were all locked against me, and by a woman who pleased to call herself Protestant. And I wish it plainly understood that this was not a warm summer night, but just the opposite, a cold, dark, wintry night in the latter part of February. Could anyone blame me for believing the terrible stories I had heard about Protestant people while I was in the convent?
I made my presence known by knocking on the door, but this lady who was comfortably warm in her bed did not condescend to stir herself to admit me. I found a window which was not locked and I entered by climbing through it. When she saw that I was inside she asked, "How did you get in?" Indeed, I will never forget that question. Imagine, if you can, the feeling I had. There were six vacant beds in the house that night, but with the unwelcome feeling which was implied by her actions and talk, I did not retire, but laid on the sofa in the clothes I had worn during the day, as I did for several nights to follow. Shame, shame on such Protestant people! To my sorrow I have found many who have the same spirit that this lady had. She evidently did not care what became of me. If she did not want me there, why did she not tell me? No, she would rather break what little spirits I had remaining.
In the meantime, I had made the acquaintance of two real Protestant people, Mr. and Mrs. E. U. Morrison. I went to Mrs. Morrison the following morning and told her about the above incident. She told me that I did not have to endure this kind of treatment, and that, if I wished, I could move to her home, and that as long as she had a crust of bread it would be shared with me. I accepted her very kind offer, and moved a few days later, March 1st. From that day till now, they have been the Good Samaritan to me, always the same in all kindness and Christian spirit. All I am, all I have today, I owe it, to a certain extent, to these good people, Mr. and Mrs. Morrison. "For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me." Matt. 25:35, 36.
In all my trouble and sorrow of moving, and settling with the sisters, there were many instances which I now look upon with much amusement. I remember about the first thing that happened when I arrived at Mrs. Morrison's home. She came to my room and asked me if I wanted "to eat with the family or eat by myself or how I wanted to eat." There were several men there, and I had never eaten with a man, except once when I was with Mrs. Kearney in Spokane, since I left my home in 1881. I thought for a moment and then I told Mrs. Morrison that I was not accustomed to eating with men, but that I would try it. It was a very peculiar feeling that came over me the first time I sat at the table with them, but I soon became acquainted and felt very much at home. When I would go to the dining-room, I would very often say, "Well, I used to go to mass, now I go to mess."
As the days and weeks passed by, I more and more realized that the great hand of God was directing me in all my movements. Even though my short experience out of the shadow of the convent cross had not been a success, so to speak, yet it was preparing me for the days to follow. God was very good to me, and my sentiments cannot be better expressed than my repeating that wonderful twenty-third Psalm: "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the path of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."
I visited a great many Protestant ministers, asking them to explain different parts of the Bible to me, and they all received me and treated me very courteously. I started studying God's Word as revealed by Christ in the New Testament, and the more I read and studied, the more I became convinced that the religion I had been living all my life was not the religion of a Christ "crucified, dead and buried" for the salvation of poor, fallen mankind.
The Scriptures are replete with teachings that conflict with the teachings of the Roman Catholic Church, which are traditional and a great many of them are taken from religions other than Christianity.
"And call no man your father upon the earth: for one is your Father, which is in heaven." Matt. 23:9.
"We have one Father, even God." John 8:41.
These, and many more verses of the like, show conclusively that it was never intended that the priests of the church of Rome should be called "father," for God is our spiritual Father, and the Good Book does not lie.
"Now the Spirit speaketh expressly that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils; speaking lies in hypocrisy; having their conscience seared with a hot iron; forbidding to marry, and commanding to abstain from meats, which God has created to be received with thanksgiving of them which believe and know the truth. For every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if it be received with thanksgiving: for it is sanctified by the word of God and prayer." 1st Timothy 4:1, 5.
All my life I had lied in hypocrisy, not that I wanted to, but just what the Roman Catholic system had made of me by their hypocritical teachings, such as the "Johnny Morgan" story; and my conscience had been seared many, many times with a hot iron. Who forbids to marry but the Roman Catholic system? Who commands to abstain from eating meat but the Roman Catholic system on Fridays, ember days and during Lent?
The Protestant people that I came in contact with from time to time was not the class of people that the Roman Catholic system had pictured to me—they were refined, educated and, above all, charitable. I attended Protestant churches, and heard sermons preached from the Word of God according to Christ's teaching—with the man-made Latin mass missing.
At last, I learned that I was to be saved by faith and not by penance. "Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." Romans 5:1. I also learned that there was no mediator between God and man, except Jesus Christ as I have explained under the heading "Confession," and that if I would confess my sins to Him, He would forgive me and help me. So I gave myself to His keeping, and on Sunday, April 20, 1913, I was baptized into the Protestant faith—which was the happiest day of all my life.
The following Sunday I became a member of that church and have been a Protestant, not in name only, but in reality, ever since. God keep me strong in the faith.
I continued doing nursing for a livelihood. Some of my doctor friends gave me a few private cases, and I also was called on by some of the Protestant people I had become acquainted with to wait on them in sickness.
Several times I was asked to take obstetric (maternity) cases, but had to refuse them on account of the lack of training in this particular line. I have stated before that we were kept in ignorance in regard to this line of nursing at St. Vincent's Hospital. Finally, I decided that I would take a special course in obstetrics, and I spent about six months studying very hard. Now, remember, that I had spent eighteen years at St. Vincent's besides two more years in hospital work and yet I was not allowed to learn this very important branch of nursing, regardless of the fact that I had the maternity ward on my floor all the time I was superintendent, and was held responsible for any errors in the nursing of these cases.
Before very long the saying of "Father" Carti, "You will have trouble in the world," became very vivid to me. The boycott was working well. I remember one case I was called on, that of an old lady. She was very sick and needed care night and day. She had one nurse, but she could not work all the time. I worked only two days, when the other nurse, who was a Roman Catholic, went to the lady and told her that she could get along without me. This only came about after she learned that I had been a sister in the Roman Catholic sisterhood.
In this, and other cases, my qualifications as a nurse were not taken into consideration. It was only the fact that I had once been a Roman Catholic and sister, but was now a Protestant. Another incident of the boycott that will be very clear to my readers is that a prominent doctor, whose name is on my recommendation, told a nurse I was working with that she could not get any more cases as long as Sister Lucretia was working with her.
In many of the states there has been agitation about a law protecting ex-convicts from the boycott of the public, simply because he is an ex-convict. Let us also have a law for the protection of ex-nuns against the boycott of the Roman Catholic system and the public, simply because she is an ex-nun.
It became very apparent to me that I would have to do something besides nursing. But what? I was no longer a young girl, and I had worked nearly all my life to make of myself an efficient nurse, and I had succeeded thus far. But, circumstances so shaped themselves that I could not secure sufficient work to do to keep body and soul together.
After a great deal of deliberation and much thoughtful prayer, I came to the conclusion that as God had been with me and brought me out of darkness and idolatry, I would dedicate my services to Him, in word of mouth and pen, telling the story of my life as a Sister of Charity in the Roman Catholic sisterhood.
During July, 1915, I had the opportunity to spend a few days at the annual Chautauqua being held at Gladstone, Oregon. There I met several women with whom I had been acquainted in Portland. They knew of my past life and asked me to tell of some of my past experiences to the members of the Women's Christian Temperance Union. I had never had occasion to stand before any number of people to talk to them, and I was very reluctant about accepting the invitation. But it came to me that this was the opportunity to obtain my first experience, and the few days I stayed there I talked to them twice.
After my return to Portland, and during the fall and winter, I told my story to small crowds in the homes of some of the real Protestant women. Then came 1916. I began to talk upon invitation in the churches, before lodges and in homes. During the year I delivered my lectures one hundred and fourteen times in and about Portland. In the summer, I had to decline many invitations, as I was too busy to fill the engagements.
This is how I began my lecturing, not that I ever intended to do so when I left the sisterhood, but the Roman Catholic system drove me to it, and now I am thankful that it did, for I can do more good telling my story than I ever could by being a Sister of Charity in the Roman Catholic sisterhood, or by being a nurse caring for the sick. I love to aid the poor, suffering sick, but I feel that there are many nurses better than I could ever be, even with my experience, but there are, indeed, very few who live thirty-one years in the sisterhood of the Roman Catholic Church, and live to leave it and tell their experiences.