Carmelite Monastery of St Joseph, Kilmacud - Sisters' Reflections

  ‘What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning.’ TS Elliot Over the past few weeks two rowing boats from Ireland called Brugha and Crean joined 43 other boats to be part of the Atlantic challenge. There were 5 men in the Brugha and 4 in the Crean. They were going to row 3,000 miles. They were facing high temperatures, high winds with waves reaching 30 feet and the possibility of meeting ‘curious’ sharks and flying fish. We heard about their intense preparations and training. It took two years. They had goals they wished to reach one of these was to win the race. But they were aware that there was more to the experience than winning the race. They knew that teamwork was essential. If they didn’t row in harmony they would make it harder for each other. They set another set of goals for themselves; that they were leaving as friends and they were committed to growing in their friendship or at least remaining friends. That they would not wish t

Faithfully they came, every week, my dear Mother’s letters, and up at the right hand corner the simple heart-warming address, Home, the Kitchen .. She gave me the news of all the family in her own lovely home-spun way, mingling a mother’s tenderness with her solid advice and wisdom that sprang naturally from the bedrock of her deep faith.   How they fed my soul and filled my heart, and how I miss them now that she has gone to God. Letter-writing is such a fast disappearing art in today’s digital world of texting, soundbytes, twitter etc...Maybe we Carmelites are among the few who still engage in this art as we exercise our Apostolate of the Pen in response to the many who turn to us in their anguish and heartache with sick family members, wayward children, financial challenges etc.   We hope we can bring some solace to lighten their burdens.   Yes, a letter in your hand is worth a hundred on the laptop or computer; it can be held and treasured, read and re-read again and again...

  It was my sister’s birthday this week, an occasion that made me reminisce about our childhood together. From an early age our mother always taught us to value each other, because she never had a sister growing up, and always wished she had. Like all siblings, we had our squabbles, but most of the time we were good friends. I have so many memories of games and adventures together as children and trips out to concerts as teenagers.  Our lives have taken different paths. I am a Carmelite nun here, and she is living in England with a husband and three children. N ow I am surrounded by Sisters of a different kind, both in my community and in other religious communities that I have contact with. These new Sisters are of all ages and nationalities, and I value them all, each and every one of them. The gifts of each Sister are unique and the richness of having so many Sisters is a great blessing for me. Yet, there is nobody quite like my very first sister. As American novelist George R.R.

A few months ago, Sr. Emmanuel returned to her community in Vietnam after spending three years in our community here in Kilmacud . During that time she had an opportunity to study aspects of our Carmelite Charism and also perfect her English, with the added flavour of a slightly Dublin 4 accent!! Some of our sisters accompanied her to Dublin Airport to say a final goodbye. These days about 45,000 people per day are passing through the Airport. Many are accompanied by parents and grandparents who have come to say goodbye as loved ones return to jobs, study, etc., after celebrating Christmas with family and friends in Ireland. At the airport we can see love manifest in human form. Everyone wants to say goodbye, and to say it well in gesture and word. Sometimes, no more than a whisper in the ear and that last touch of the hand at the departure gate. Lips moving so clearly that one can spell the words: “Don’t forget the rashers and the Tayto! Say hello to everyone.” To breathe in a deep g