CHAPTER XVII.
The Care of Old Sisters by the Roman Catholic System.
I cannot close this book without devoting a few lines to the care of the old sisters—those who have spent many years serving the Roman Catholic Church—who have passed their years of usefulness, and then—
It would seem only natural and human, that any institution after having received thirty, forty or more years of free service from a human being, would at least see to it that the person would spend their last few years of earthly existence in ease and comfort. Indeed, very few pass their years of usefulness in the Roman Catholic sisterhood—a great many dying in their twenties, and more in their thirties. And I might state right here that tuberculosis is a very common disease to take the sisters to a young grave. Probably forty to fifty per cent of the sisters I knew that died during my sisterhood life was caused by tuberculosis. Surely there must be some cause for this ravaging disease among this people. It is the unnatural, secluded life the girls are forced to live, together with the lack of proper care when they are taken sick.
That I might produce proof to substantiate what I say in regard to the care of the old sisters, I wish to call to your particular attention one dear, old lady I knew very well, and who suffered untold agonies after giving the Roman Catholic Church forty years' service, according to her own letters. I will print three of her letters written to a friend (a Protestant) in Portland, when this dear, sainted old lady, Sister Gabriel, was in Vancouver, Washington.
Vancouver, Wash., Aug. 3d, 1901.
My dear ....:
These few lines are a secret for yourself. Will you please tell Mother Theresa that I am not able for any more corrections. I have lost my sleep and appetite altogether. I had no care since I came February 18th. I was ordered back to Vancouver to sit in a room alone and suffer as I had for six long years, since they discharged me from teaching. They kept me in this work thirty-six years—four years were spent at apothecary work in hospitals. I have been kept idle altogether for six years. Now they seem pleased to see me loosing my memory. Dr. .... was called to see me Monday. He seemed to sympathize with me for having nothing to do. The medicine the sister gave me made me vomit and a diarrhea that is killing me. He said he had no time to call and see me a second time.
(Signed) SR. GABRIEL.
House of Providence,
Vancouver, Wash., Nov. 6th, 1901.
My very dear friend:
I send you these few lines by our dear Mother Provincial, who will try to meet you, if not, to send you the note. I am suffering very much from the rectal ailment ever since that seasickness in September. The protrusion is much larger. The inside is getting sore, and a slight hemorrage of slime and blood keeps me busy. I do not know what to do any longer, there is no one here who understands anything about this complaint. I use glycerine suppositories and sweet oil, etc.... Please write a prescription if you cannot come to see me, and tell Rev. Mother what kind of a tube to get. I feel pretty well, only a dizziness now and then.
Your grateful friend,
SISTER GABRIEL.
House of Providence.
Vancouver, Wash., Feb. 4, 1902.
The dearest of my friends:
I should have written to wish you the many blessings of the new year ere this, but I was not in the writing mood. I hope you enjoy good health as a reward from the great God, and may He prolong your life many years—serving the poor sick.
"I would give the world to see you," but as that is impossible for a few weeks longer, I will try to continue the prescription you gave me when you kindly came here to see me November 12th. I prefer to do all the dressing myself as long as I am able, but sometimes I cry out for relief in pain. No one knows what a painful, tedious disease it is, and only those who have suffered themselves can appreciate a relief.
I fear the interior lining will become ulcerated, owing to constipation for several days. Then I take purgatives, Sedlitz powders, clover-root tea or soda phosphate, which causes a diarrhea that cannot be stopped for so long, causing sleeplessness, weakness and trembling. Will you please tell me what would be a good laxative to prevent all this trouble? Exterior applications have but very little effect. ... Do you think that I will ever get better? Every one tries his best to be relieved from pain. I am pretty old now, "sixty-six years," hoping at least not to become worse.
I dread more the affliction of becoming insane than any other ailment. Every little thing contrary to my way of thinking disturbs my mind and keeps me thinking for hours. I thank God I have a taste for reading and will walk outside when the weather gets warm. I will expect a few lines as soon as convenient. You told me to let you know after a few weeks how I am, so then you will excuse me for intruding on your precious time.
Excuse my quill and old shaking hand.
Your most grateful,
(Signed) SISTER GABRIEL.
Just before these letters were written, Sister Gabriel was at St. Vincent's Hospital for a short time. One day as I was passing the bathroom, I heard moans and cries for assistance, and as I entered the bathroom I found her lying in the bathtub, overcome from her sickness and unable to help herself. I assisted her to her room and nursed her the best I could, as I had no permission from my superior to wait on her. Many times I would talk to her, as she was far more intelligent than the average sister. As soon as Mother Theresa learned that I was taking care of this sister, and talking to her, she forbade me to do so any further, and ordered me to look for the letters she (Sister Gabriel) was sending out. Sister Gabriel remained at Vancouver until about 1905, and then she was ordered to the Mother House at Montreal to sit alone the remaining few years of her life. I know she did not want to make this move, but she was forced to do so, as she was getting to be a drudge to the community here. Sister Gabriel had been a missionary to this part of the country, and she told me many times that she did not wish to go to Canada, but wanted to stay in this country among English-speaking sisters to spend her old age. But it was never so with a sister—it is not what they desire or wish for in their old age, it is the desires of the Roman Catholic system, which has them bound, tied and gagged by the vow of obedience.
Treatment such as this was coming to me. I had served them faithfully for thirty-one years and my health was beginning to break under the pressure of wrongs and the unnatural conditions. When a sister gets in this condition, they move her from mission to mission and very often send reports ahead of her, that she is irreligious and has a "bad" spirit, causing the other sisters to treat her with suspicion and contempt. This is done until her heart is broken, and the final result is a general break-down in health. Then she can go and sit alone in some secluded place for the remaining few years of life. The strongest mind and body would break under the strain and worry and sorrow of such treatment as the Roman Catholic system gives their old sisters. Had I remained with them, no doubt now, five years later, I would be a physical and nervous wreck.
I will quote from another letter written by another sister to me shortly after my transfer to Cranbrook:
"... When one has passed the three score mark the situation is, to say the least, not pleasant. I can only say, 'Courage, dear Sister Lucretia, a few more struggles and Heaven will be ours.' The above quotation was a friend's loving message to our dear saintly Sister Mary Precious Blood but three weeks before her death. She was ill but one week, mental anguish filled many of her days and shortened her beautiful religious life. Sad, but true, that a fearful retribution follows every injustice. 'Revenge to me,' said the Lord.... I know too well what it means to be in your plight, to even hope you are not lonely. Time alone can dull the keenest of that sword's edge. Let your many, many kind deeds comfort you. Those in favor of my poor self when cast on St. Vincent's charity, as well as those to my deceased Sister John, whose loving appreciation was with you to the end, will never be forgotten. Strange how few such souls we meet in this vast world...."