SISTER MARY ALBERTA C.D.P. PART ONE

My cousin and I have spent our whole lives together, sometimes living in the same house, and otherwise in touch with one another every few days. Our Dads both went to war, and our Mother's lived together during those years, and we've always been like a big extended family. Cousin and I both attended Catholic grade school...he being 3 years younger than me, but never more than a few classrooms away. One summer, he announced the discovery that we could determine early in the summer what the following year might bring by scrutinizing the church bulletin when they listed the nun's assignments for the next school year. He would then announce that simply knowing a name would be a foolproof prediction. For example. Sister Mary Celine, or Sister Marie Elise, or Sister Mary Laura, would absolutely guarantee a lovely experience for you come September. Hence we were horrified one hot Sunday in July to see the following names listed for our respective classrooms come Fall. The new principal was Sister Eusebia, his nun was Sister Evarista, and mine...8th grade,,,was Sister Alberta. I still remember him looking at me and saying "we're sunk".

After a horrible summer..(we took our educational surroundings very seriously) we walked to school together the day after Labor Day, and knew immediately upon arrival that our theory indeed held water. One look at the principal made us both shudder, and since his classroom was closest, It was like dead man walking as we made our way for our first glimpse of Sister Evarista. My cousin all but sunk to his knees when she greeted him in the doorway. Sister Evarista was a very large woman...mid sixties maybe...with a face that my partner would describe as "unfortunate". Sister had the most un welcoming demeanor that I truly believe I have ever seen. There were two mothers within earshot that awful morning, and I remember hearing one of them say " my God, she looks like a lady wrestler. My cousin and I exchanged glances as people might do right after the chaplain completed the Lord's Prayer and your final meal was eaten. There was a change in my cousin from that moment on. He would later tell me that he never said one word in that classroom

unless Sister Evarista roared one directly at him. He says he never asked to go to the bathroom, or be excused if he was feeling sick..nor did he ever raise his hand. For the next nine and a half months he was a bundle of nerves and quiet as a mouse until Friday night. By the time the clock ticked on Sixty Minutes every Sunday night, he'd already begun to clam up.

My fate awaited me right around the corner. Compared to my cousin who was thrown into a lions den, I was about to enter into an absolutely surreal world of madness with a nun who was beginning her FIFTY-FIFTH year of teaching. I left my cousin to his fate, approached my own classroom, and as I did so I saw my classmates lining up like Russian soldiers against the wall, and started up the lineup to stand near my best friend. No sooner had I nodded hello to him when a horrendously loud voice rumbled down the hall " Who's that jockeying for position ? !!!!!" Thus begins a tale all too terrifying and life altering to begin without a grace period. I had not even stepped foot into my eighth grade classroom, and I was already on Sister Alberta's list of potential troublemakers. Little did I know that it wouldn't be more than a few days until an extra prayer would be recited by the entire classroom...once a day...for "the boy who mocks God".