To Sister Mathilda (On the night after her death)

Written by Sr. Jane M. Abeln -- U.S. Province

Your chapel chair sits empty.
This throne for your crippled spine
will not again witness
your walker’s solemn procession.

In the twilight of last evening,
your soul warmed in God’s embrace,
His Breast bright beyond a gray horizon.
But our night swam in blindness.

Against my tears, my Sister begs joyful praise
because you passed in peace,
with Sisters surrounding you. But
my heart is still. It cannot sing.

Dear Sister, I picture you as in life:
your arms extended like twisted branches
toward His Light, your round smooth face
mirror to His Sun as your cane tapped toward Him.

After your hundred-thousand painful steps
on that long Way of the Cross,
who can question your readiness
for the Final Station?

Not question. . . .It’s just that
I’m lonely in this chapel
where I’ll never see you again.
I’d come to think you’d always be here
even though you, every day,
have been waiting for this one night.


*Sr. Mathilda Busch became ill right after her
first profession, and until her death on Jan. 7, 1971,
she spent most of every day in a pew in the side chapel
of Immaculate Conception convent, also making the
Way of the Cross there.