The air was charged; molecules brushed against my skin singing for joy.
“Yes,” I replied. Tears pricked my eyes.
“How was it?” she asked.
“So easy,” I whispered.
Her forehead rumpled. I took a breath and repeated myself in a louder voice, “So easy. I just forgot to smoke.”
“Yes. I’d plan to have a cigarette at lunch and forget them in my desk. Or I’d forget while I was waiting at the bus.” I shrugged. “At first I was afraid: How could I forget to smoke? Then I realized it was a good thing so I just stopped.
“It’s what we discussed,” I said.
“Yes?” she asked.
“If I have a vocation, then quitting would be possible,” I replied.
“True,” she nodded. “Most young women find it more difficult.”
I lowered my head. How do I tell her? I mutely asked my Friend. The air sang about me. Oh well. I suppose just the truth.
“My life often goes that way,” I replied. “I pray and want and pray some more and even try to make myself be different. Then I just forget to poke at myself and one day, the change I want just happens. How varies. But the change happens.”
Mother Veronica Mary smiled, “How are you doing with your biography?”
“That’s hard,” I said shaking my head. “There’s so much. It’s daunting.”
“Perhaps Sister Justin Mary would be of help,” she suggested.
I shuddered. “Perhaps,” I said.
“Think about it,” she said. “And don’t be afraid to ask her for help. Remember, if you really have a vocation…”
I gave her a tight-lipped smile and nodded, “Yes. If I don’t get it in a few days, I’ll ask her.”