The Nun's Story Page #4

The fish was so salty.

Oh, God.

God.

Oh, God.

The Archangel.

Pride. Pride and disobedience.

Always disobedience.

Don't try to talk. I would probably

have done the same thing.

I accuse myself also of pride in thinking

I could handle the Archangel myself.

I accuse myself of using personal

judgment in not ringing the bell for help.

I accuse myself of a sense of heroism.

Mother, in the three days

I've been lying in the infirmary...

I have accused myself

of almost every possible imperfection...

against the Holy Rule.

They are always such glaring faults.

At the School of Tropical Medicine...

Mother Marcella offered me the chance

to show true humility...

-by failing an examination.

-I know.

Mother Marcella means well...

but she was very wrong

to make that suggestion to you.

My child, I don't underestimate for

a moment the seriousness of your faults.

But you mustn't destroy yourself

with guilt and remorse.

You must learn to bend a little

or you'll break.

Long before I entered the order,

I had a rule of my own:

All or nothing.

I want to be a good nun or....

You will be a good nun, Sister Luke.

I thought one would reach

some sort of resting place...

where obedience would be natural

and struggle would end.

There is no resting place. Ever.

But you must have patience with yourself.

Unhappy saints are lost

from the beginning.

Ask for God's help and guidance...

and I know you will make your final vows.

"I, Sister Luke...

"promise to God in the presence of

Your Grace and of our Reverend Mother...

"to persevere in the life of obedience...

"chastity, and poverty...

"until death. Amen."

I declare you from today...

the bride of Jesus Christ,

Son of Almighty God.

I declare you from today...

the bride of Jesus Christ,

Son of Almighty God.

-Mother, pray for me.

-My daughter, may God give you peace.

Don't be proud of me, Father.

This is really flight.

It will be so much easier in the Congo

to remember I'm nothing.

There will be no worldly associations

in a bush station, in the jungle.

Please, God, let me do some good.

Where's Mother Mathilde?

We are very fortunate in Mother Mathilde.

-Mama Augustine.

-Kalulu.

-Welcome home, Mama Augustine.

-It's good to be back.

Ilunga. This is Sister Luke.

This is Kalulu.

He practically runs the convent.

Sister Augustine. Welcome back.

Welcome.

-This is Sister Aurelie.

-Sister.

Sister Luke.

Now, a short boat trip across the Congo

and you're home.

And there's the Congo.

Drums tell your arrival, Mama Augustine.

Yours, too, Mama Luke.

What are the drums saying, Kalulu?

Mama Augustine, she can read drums.

Sister Luke....

I thought it might amuse you to know

what the drums said about you last night.

The way Kalulu laughed,

it must be something very funny.

They said:

"Held hands with Big Mama Mathilde

on way back to Sister House...

"therefore esteemed.

Talks little, looks much.

"Young enough to bear children."

We call her the Novice.

But like all little novices,

she's still imperfect in discipline.

Come along with me now on my rounds.

We'll start with the native hospital.

How we've needed

this extra pair of hands.

"Yambo"means hello.

But of course you know that.

-You've been studying.

-Yes.

-Mama Luke.

-Yambo, Mama Luke.

Only one generation ago,

their fathers were savages in the forest.

We couldn't run the hospital

without them.

You'll notice

we haven't converted them all yet.

Some still wear the witch doctor's fetish

around their necks.

That is our surgeon, Dr. Fortunati.

He spends half his time here.

The rest of the day

he operates in the white hospital.

I'm afraid she's too fast for me...

but nursing them every day, I'll learn.

I see our chaplain, Father Andre, is here.

He is greatly loved.

Even the non-Catholics

hold their children up to him...

to be blessed when he passes.

Father Andre...

you have a new soul to look after.

-Sister Luke.

-Sister.

-Father.

-We're so glad you are here.

We do need another pair of hands.

The barber's been itching

to get at that beard for years...

but the natives

have a picture of God with a beard...

so priests have to wear beards

in the Congo.

No beard, no converts. Excuse me, please.

We're only beginning to persuade them

to come to hospital to have their babies.

Not all of them trust us, yet.

Many of them still prefer

to deliver themselves in the bush.

They scoop out a hole and that's it.

That's how they call

our children to school.

-Sister.

-Sister.

Sister is teaching the mothers

how to wash their children.

You know,

I had hoped to go to the bush station...

but seeing all of this,

I'm very happy to be here.

But Mother Emmanuel sent you a cable,

didn't she?

Yes, that I was to be here with you.

With us, yes,

but not at the native hospital.

Across the way, at the white hospital,

with the Europeans.

One of the nurses here got TB

and we had to send her home.

TB makes further service

in the Congo impossible...

so you'll have to hold down

two jobs over there.

Supervising the nurses

and assisting Dr. Fortunati.

I'm sorry...

but it's a lesson

we all have to learn, isn't it?

Disappointments.

We'll go there now.

-Good morning, Mama Mathilde.

-Ilunga, this is Sister Luke.

-Good morning.

-Good morning.

Ilunga will be your deputy here

at the hospital.

Good.

You will be assisting Dr. Fortunati here.

He is a genius and a devil.

He works himself to exhaustion...

and his nurses, too.

I'm used to doctors. My father....

I'm sorry, I forgot.

Your father is a great surgeon. I know.

You must always leave surgery

the moment operations are over.

You must never linger to discuss a case.

You will be tempted to

because he is a marvel.

But remember, he is also a man...

a bachelor...

and I'm afraid an unbeliever.

Don't ever think for an instant, Sister,

that your habit will protect you.

Now, I leave you

to look over your equipment.

Yes, Mother.

You will say six A ves and a Pater Noster

for that bit of vanity, Sister.

I'm Dr. Fortunati.

You must be the new sister.

-Yes, I'm Sister Luke.

-How do you do?

-How do you do?

-Well, the drums were right.

I see somebody told you what they said.

I believe I'm to assist you

in the operating room, Doctor.

Yes.

I hope you bear up longer

than the last sister.

I can only try.

These summer months this room gets

like a bake-oven by 9:00 in the morning...

so I operate at 5:00.

That means you get up at 4:00.

I'll be here.

And sometimes I operate

right through the time of your mass.

So you'll get used to taking communion...

at that door there, on those occasions.

I'll have to ask permission

of Reverend Mother.

Reverend Mother is not in charge here.

This is a government hospital.

-Still, I'll--

-You're paid by the government...

and therefore, you're responsible to them.

They don't pay you to pray,

but to assist me.

-I understand that.

-It's all right.

The Reverend Mother's

given permission to the operating sisters.

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