Vocation Stories
Sister Bertha True, OSB
A childhood spent in rural Alabama – in which Catholics were few, Eucharistic celebrations infrequent, and prejudice against Catholics high – gave me a unique perspective on the Church, one that eventually influenced my vocation and my choice of religious communities. My early upbringing was as a Protestant, but when a bad economy in the depression-era South sent my family in search of work in Detroit, a family friend introduced my mother to the Catholic faith. My father was initially resistant to Mother’s desire to convert to Catholicism, but eventually he acquiesced. A year after she entered the Church I was baptized into the Catholic faith, along with my two siblings. At age 8 I received 1st Communion, and at age 9 I was confirmed.
Time in Detroit alternated with lengthy periods spent amongst extended family in central Alabama. In Alabama, there were 16 Catholics in our county, including myself, my mother, and my siblings. Mass was celebrated once or twice a month in the living room of a local Catholic family. Meanwhile, in Detroit I was surrounded by a vibrant Catholic culture and taught by the Sister Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary and the Adrian Dominicans.
During the summer that I was twelve, I began reading my mother’s copy of Butler’s Lives of the Saints. Reading this had an enormous impact on me. One day, while praying at the Communion rail, I had a sudden intuition that since so many saints were priests or religious, maybe I should become a Sister. I told only my sister. Later, during religion class at school, the Sister teaching the class invited all who were considering the priesthood or religious life to come speak with her if we wished. I met with her, and she gave me two pieces of advice: 1) concentrate on growing up and continuing my usual course of development, and 2) live a normal teen-age life, and if at the end of high school I was still interested in religious life, I would be more certain at that age than then. A subsequent talk with my 12th grade music teacher was also influential.
At the end of high school I was discerning with the IHM Sisters and was set to be measured for my postulant dress when they discovered I hadn’t yet spoken with my father about my decision to enter the community. They refused to measure me until I had done so. When I spoke with him, he was grief-stricken. After many tears were shed, he said “no” and instructed me to never ask him again. Instead, college was in my immediate future, and he offered me several choices, one of which was a state women’s college in Montevallo, Alabama.
I loved my time in Montevallo living a normal college life of studying, dates, and dances, but again was in a situation in which I did not have access to the Sacraments. I went from December to June of my freshman year unable to attend Mass because there were so few other Catholics in this mission area. Despite this, religious life remained in my thoughts. During my senior year, I wrote two letters: one to my father requesting a trip home at Easter to talk about my future, and one to the Adrian Dominicans. The Dominicans said “no” for now, suggesting that I teach a year or two before a decision was made. My parents also asked that I teach for a year or two, and said that after that they would not stand in my way.
A teaching job in Mobile led to further contact with Sisters who had schools and hospitals in the city. It also led to a boyfriend, with whom I soon fell in love. A marriage proposal soon followed, but I deferred an answer. Eventually he asked me if I loved him more than anyone else. I replied, “after God, yes.” He then suggested that I get the religious life issue settled so we stopped dating.
I felt deeply pained by this situation, and torn between conflicting desires. About six months later, a priest I spoke with advised spending the next three months praying like I’d never prayed before, attending Mass as often as possible, and having the time of my life. Surprisingly, this was one of the most carefree periods I’ve ever experienced. When I returned in three months to speak with him and told him II was going to enter the convent, he replied “I thought so.”
I now had to decide where to seek entry. I had recently had my first contact with Benedictines. During this period, I had briefly met a couple of the Cullman Sisters in summer school, had made one trip to Cullman with a group of students, and had heard many positive reports about them from a priest of the diocese. Unbeknownst to me, he had also sent reports to Cullman about me.
When I wrote to Mother Annunciata, she requested that I come up to meet her. The train left at 1:00 AM, and I had no way to the station. Meanwhile, my boyfriend asked me to attend a dance that was to occur that evening. I said, “I’ll go on one condition – that afterwards you take me to the train station, and ask no questions.” He dropped me off, I traveled through the night, and then I met the next day with Mother Annunciata. I was still wearing the dress I had worn to the dance the evening before!
The meeting with Mother Annunciata was December 8, 1950. She wanted me to enter in January, but teaching commitments kept me in Mobile through March. In entered the Community on April 1, 1951.
Why the Benedictines? At the time, I really knew very little about them, but was aware that they were a community rooted in Alabama. Given the experiences of my youth, I felt a strong sense of wanting to be in an Alabama community to help strengthen the church here in this state. Also, I had tried two different communities, but I and my family had not been ready. I had considered marriage but it didn’t seem right. And now, after writing to Mother Annunciata everything just fell into place, including the approval of my parents. It just seemed right.
I have always had such a strong sense of God’s presence here, and after nearly 60 years the feeling of peace with my Benedictine vocation remains. Over the years I have been involved in several different ministries, mostly in teaching and administration, but also in working with Hispanic immigrants. In all these positions I have remained in Alabama, able to engage my initial impulse of wanting to help strengthen the Church in a state with relatively few Catholics.
Though I found the Benedictines through a circuitous route, I have come to deeply appreciate my Benedictine vocation, especially my vocation to this particular community. My younger sister once remarked, “you all are so normal,” and that is one thing I have appreciated about this community. It is relaxed, human, yet disciplined and regular in prayer and monastic observance. I have especially appreciated the relationships that flow from the vow of stability. We spend our lives seeking God with the same group of Sisters day in and day out through times of both pain and joy. When we have a disagreement, we work it out. When we have cause to rejoice, we celebrate as one. These are relationships that can only be made and sustained by a lifetime commitment of seeking God together. I am so grateful to God for my Catholic faith, my religious vocation, and especially my Benedictine vocation to this particular community.