Beverly Marshall

From Here to Eternity

The red brick building stood erect and steadfast, holding the alley in place. Inside, Catholic nuns did what they have done in convents for thousands of years; prayed the rosary and baked chocolate chip cookies. Attired in my own little nun’s habit made from two black skirts my aunt had given me for playing dress-up, I knocked on their kitchen door whenever I smelled the cookies baking. The nuns handed an extra cookie to me at their kitchen door. I was dying to get inside and show them what a good little nun I could be and join the order of the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. We called them “BVMs”. Alas, I never was invited to join the order. I suspect I wasn’t the only neighborhood kiddo who sponged off them. The rumor was if you forgot your lunch, the BVMs would make you a bologna sandwich. I couldn’t use that excuse because I lived across the alley from the school and went home for lunch every day.