To those whose lives are consecrated To the service of Humanity And to our Earth And to all creatures large and small”. . .
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Since I began writing books over 40 years ago, my beloved twin sister, Eileen, who has since passed, has been my most devoted supporter and advisor. Her encouragement played a significant role in the success of my first edition of this memoir and other publications, and I am forever grateful for her support.
I still miss Eileen deeply and truly appreciate her dedication and guidance during the release of my first book. It brings me great joy to have published the fourth edition of Secrets of a Nun, which remains the most requested title among many of my past and current readers.
I I I
FROM THE AUTHOR
I am thrilled to be celebrating the 40th Anniversary of the first published edition of my book, Secrets of a Nun: My Own Story, published in 1985 by William Morrow Publishing. This memoir explores themes of passion, forgiveness, love, and devotion while remaining deeply moving, profound, and insightful.
I extend special thanks to Catherine Lyon Literary Consulting and Deborah Perdue of Illumination Graphics, as well as to the readers’ community, which has contributed to the worldwide success of this memoir. Since the first publication of this book, thousands of individuals have continued to read it worldwide, which encouraged me in November 2022 to republish a Fourth Edition of Secrets of a Nun: My Own Story.
It is meaningful that this book is my most requested title, which suggests that readers are becoming more open during these challenging times. My story aims to inspire every reader to live life fully while embracing the grace, love, and hope life offers…
I I I
ST. JOSEPH’S CONVENT
New York, New York
*******
All the days of my life.
I knelt in front of the priest. “Reverend Mother,” he addressed our directress.
“Do you accept Sister Roseann as a member of your Congregation for
the rest of her religious life?”
The long, graceful fingers of her folded hands barely touched. “We do, and, with God’s grace, she will
remain faithful all the days of her life.”
Bowing toward the tabernacle, she moved to her kneeler at the left of the altar.
Every muscle in my body sprang free, alive, and unbound with spiritual energy.
It was Jesus I would live for, would love more than husband, more than parent.
The priest’s voice sounded strangely calm through my excitement.
“Pronounce then, Sister Roseann, your final vows.”
I pulled a breath deep into my lungs and held it, then released its flow slowly, trying to control the shaking in my voice. “I, Elizabeth Upton, called in religion Sister Roseann, do solemnly take my vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience in the Congregation of Social Work Sisters of Immaculate Mary and, with God’s grace, I will persevere.”
All the days of my life.
I I I
Just two weeks before, Mother Edmond had glided down the carved oak staircase of the Motherhouse, as studiedly beautiful as on the day I had met her six years before. We were not strangers to each other’s distinctly different ways, and I stood up to respectfully greet her. She grasped my hand and shook it enthusiastically. Six years earlier, we had hugged each other warmly. It was the custom before Mother Edmond replaced the old Mother Foundress as our first Mother General.
“You’ll be joining a fervent and loving community of Sisters. They will be your new family,” Mother Edmond had written before she ascended to Mother Generalship of the Order. I sighed deeply as Mother Edmond fastened her gaze on me. “You still don’t approve of my ban on hugging and kissing between Sisters, do you, Sister Roseann? Sit down, please, please.” She gestured gracefully, not allowing my reply.
Her expressive eyebrows lifted slightly. “As you know, Sister Roseann, canon law requires that the Congregation be certain,” her controlled voice edged higher, “that you have the right disposition to take your final vows.” She folded
her thin fingers into a steeple of reflection. “My dear Sister, this is a decision of the gravest nature.”
I knew this last formal interrogation offered me the chance to change my mind before I took final vows. Somehow, I felt this was the actual ceremony, and the ritual to come would be the celebration, not the commitment.
“Do you have any doubts about your religious calling?” Mother Edmond asked quietly. “Doubts, Reverend Mother? Don’t you mean temptations?” She stirred in her straight chair. “Questioning? Still, you question, Roseann. And that you suggest I meant temptations, when I distinctly said doubts, tells me that you may not be ready,” she added firmly. Then her lips parted in what had always passed as a smile for her. “Doubts can be temptations, and temptations can be doubts, especially in the year before final vows.”
“From the deepest part of me, Mother, I do feel unworthy to be the Bride of Christ.” I wanted to bare my child’s soul and confide my fears to this woman, the real fears that had brought me to the convent in the first place. Yet, like a child, I also feared being judged. She lifted her chin and looked out the window at the garden shrine of Jesus crucified. Anxiously, I watched her.
“And who is worthy?” she asked sadly. Now brusque, she continued, “Superficial interrogation is not my method, Sister Roseann. I prefer silence. It will allow you to examine your real motivation and examine your reason for interrupting when I speak rather than hearing what I say. It indicates that you may not be prepared for this examination.”
Sweat began to dampen my black wool habit. Reflect? I knew my motivations were tainted. Wasn’t it enough to leave my family, to save souls for Jesus? But when I had made that choice, I was selfish and consumed by spiritual security, which I did not now feel. If I became a nun, I would certainly go straight to heaven. Or would I?
It was the blistering sore of the question that had never really healed, and I could feel its rawness now. From the time I started school, I had longed to emulate my nun teachers; I saw myself as mysteriously holy, encased in black and white flowing garments, saving the pagan Africans whose pictures I had avidly devoured in the pages of National Geographic magazine. I had vowed I would teach and feed these bony, starved, and godless poor. I went to church daily in those summers to watch Uncle Henry, a Marian priest, say Mass in our parish church, a magnificent Spanish Gothic edifice.
It brought me joy and peace. Mother Edmond stirred slightly in her chair, allowing herself the least amount of comfort her rigid rule of discipline would permit her, and, as if reading my mind, she said, “Personal motivation is complex, but never question the reasons why you chose to become a nun. They served the purpose of bringing you to us, to bring you to the religious life, Sister Roseann.” I looked at her carefully for a moment without the customary gesture of lowering my eyes.
Yes, she represented “the religious life” to me. Her skin was pale and smooth, yet somehow seemed to glow, leaving her looking much younger than her nearly fifty years. She was slender and always erect, but moved with a graceful repose, seeming much taller than she was. With Mother Edmond, it was her eyes, and it gave me pleasure to look at them. But this time I could not hold her look, and I lowered my gaze in a sign of submission. For the first time, she seemed pleased with me.
Then she took my hands and held them fleetingly. “May God’s grace be with you all the days of your religious life and the fullness of His love and peace be your constant companion, especially during this solemn retreat of your final vows.”
“Please pray for me,” I asked softly. She bowed graciously, then headed toward the chapel . . .
The chatter was at top volume. We had just been told that our retreat master was the renowned Jesuit poet, author, and psychologist Father Barrett. Although we had been denied all secular reading, including the journals for which Father Barrett wrote, a rule of Mother Edmond’s, still, we had heard of his famous retreats.”
A wave of peace swept over me as I knelt in the simple chapel” . . .
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Elizabeth Upton Award-Winning Author & Writer 
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