SISTER MARY ALBERTA C.D.P. part 5

Amleto Giovanni Cicognani was the apostolic delegate to the United States. That's almost the only thing I learned in the eighth grade, except of course the 15 mysteries of the rosary, and that a dead nun's feet look like wax. Each row of us was assigned a paragraph to memorize in each subject, and most of the day was spent with the recitation of those paragraphs. The entire day was of course punctuated with Sister Alberta's frequent and oddly timed musings which we duly recorded in our notebooks...."the smile is beautiful, but the grin is ugly"...or " anyone who does not bring a duster to school will not graduate from the eighth grade"...or a particular favorite of mine..."anyone who does not have a coat hanger by Friday does not love the Infant of Prague".

With the disappearance of the pump organ key, the atmosphere in our classroom darkened, as we were seen more and more as a pack of grinning and Infant hating thieves. I personally believe that I have knowledge of the true thief, but have decided to take that information to my grave for fear of annihilating a middle aged man. (enough said). One afternoon while Sister was conducting a boy's choir rehearsal in our classroom she became strangely vicious while her black nun shoes ( remember them?) were pumping away while we sang " My Jesus say what wretch has dared" ( a cheery lenten number ) when suddenly she stood up and smacked the organ with her hymn book and shouted " BLASTED ORGAN ! " Someone in the back row yelled something like " BAD BAD ORGAN ! "....he got the next smack.

Donald Witfeld had mastered his art by now. No sooner would sister begin to say " Witfeld OPEN THE DOOR" and he'd fly like a jack rabbit and swing it open, he'd then only sit halfway on his seat, anticipating his next command to "CLOSE THE DOOR Witfeld". I saw Donald at a funeral home a few years ago and the moment he saw me he said " I know what you're going to say to me"...( I also noticed a little later that he was jumping up every time someone approached the funeral home entrance ) He was still spry and well trained.

Another poor soul who was victimized by Sister Alberta was Sister Lucy. Now Sister Lucy was young and frail, quietly teaching the fourth grade, and reluctantly playing the organ for the boy's choir every morning, while Sister Alberta conducted. I think any nun who had taken a lesson or two at the piano quickly became the church organist in those days. I think Sister Lucy probably had three lessons on a Hammond organ, but she somehow ended up on the bench. As we stood waiting to begin the Requiem Mass for the Dead,which we sang most mornings, Sister Lucy would sit with her slender, nearly translucent hands poised and trembling above the keys. No sooner would the priest start out to the altar than Sister Alberta would swing her arm out and nearly shove Sister Lucy off the bench shouting " PLAY ! ". Sister Lucy must have dreaded that eight o'clock Mass like the plague.

The only living person who could intimidate Sister Alberta was the dreaded, all powerful, legendary, and once a year visiting MOTHER KENNETH. Sister Alberta knew she could take down a Sister Evarista, or beat up on Sister Lucy every morning, but she'd prove to be no match for the mysterious MOTHER KENNETH. By the end of that school year however, another woman would emerge and prove to be just as powerful and fear-inducing as MK, that woman turned out to be my very own mother.