"When I was a novice, there was a humble oblate sister who would often be found in the old kitchen peeling potatoes. Because she was deaf and partially blind, but mostly because she suffered from intestinal cancer, she was left alone there because she smelled badly, as some of the sisters would say. One day when I was alone in the novitiate, there came a knock at the door. I opened it and found Sister Raymunda standing outside. She was as short as I was so we could see each other eye-to-eye. She motioned for me to come out into the hall. Because she was an oblate sister, she had been used to being the last in rank after the postulants and she still maintained the rules of strict cloister, thus not crossing the threshold into the novitiate.
"When I came out, she looked at me and said, 'Novice Mary, I was talking with Jesus, Mary, and Joseph today and asked them for a friend. They told me to come and ask you to be my friend.' I was startled. I gulped and then said, 'Sister Raymunda, what would a friend do for you?' She replied, 'You could come and visit me sometimes.' I agreed that I thought I could do that alright. Little did I know at the time what treasures those visits would hold. I learned that Raymunda was a mystic, and one unknown as that in the community at the time. When she was a young sister in the community, newly arrived from Switzerland, she discovered that there were choir nuns who found the pioneer life in rural Washington and Idaho very difficult. One day when she was at prayer, she asked the Lord to give her the share of suffering of any sister who found suffering unbearable. And in a way known only to God, God answered her prayer. I believe that one cannot ask for such a gift unless the inspiration comes from God. Two biblical images sustained Raymunda's spirituality. One was the Holy Family living the hidden life at Nazareth, which is why she often talked very personally to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I would often go to her door and she would be praying aloud to them, so I would wait until she finished. The other biblical image was of Jesus on the cross asking the Father to forgive those who were crucifying him, for they knew not what they were doing. In a very real way, Raymunda was my community's nun who feigned being a 'holy fool,' a soul not well regarded and often ignored, but whose heart was full of the suffering love of her Christ, whom she silently served and adored. Thank you, Raymunda, for the witness of your love, and thank you, all you other holy fools whoever and wherever you may be."
