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Sister Phillipa, OSB

My fourth-grade teacher and a lifelong influence

By Denise E LindquistPublished 3 years ago • 3 min read
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Sister Philippa was from the Order of St. Benedict (OSB). She was my fourth-grade teacher. My mother thought that in the Catholic school and St. Bernards, St. Paul, MN in this case, we would get the very best education.

Years later, I tested that thought out with my children. Placing them in Catholic school for their early education. When they transferred to public school when we moved, they reported that what they were learning was what they learned a year or two before in the Catholic school.

My daughter reported that school was no longer a struggle for her. Both my children met Sister Philippa, as I stayed in touch with her until they were born. I would check in occasionally over the years.

We developed a special relationship, I believe, because my dad died on January 18, 1964, on my 10th birthday. I remember thinking after spending time with Sister Philippa that I wanted to be a nun. She told me she was married to Jesus.

She prayed all the time as her fingers were always moving on her rosary that she had in her hand all of the time. She gave me bookmarks with stories about the saints. She talked about death and being with God. She helped me through that year and when we moved, I missed her.

I moved into the public school, as there were no openings for me in the 5th grade of the Catholic school in the town we moved to. All five of my younger siblings went to Catholic school through grade 8.

Sister Phillipa was kind and caring. She told me the truth, even when it was a difficult truth. I felt her love. She loved God most of all. She talked with God all the time.

When our American Indian people were given religious freedom in 1978, I found another way to have a relationship with God/Giizheymanido (kind and loving spirit).

Because I didn’t go to Catholic school and my mother thought I should be confirmed, I attended catechism. Over the years in catechism, I developed this idea that God was an old white man who sat up in the clouds zapping people who did wrong.

Will I ever be surprised if Creator God is the God of my childhood! For a time in my life before religious freedom, I didn’t believe in God. I tried to be an atheist but didn’t believe I was smart enough to defend that idea.

So then when I got into recovery, I claimed to be agnostic. I would say prove it and mean it. I wanted proof. Even after getting proof, repeatedly, I still didn’t want to believe it. Every year around this time of the year I remember that my dad died on January 18, 1964.

I remember very little about that time, but I do remember Sister Philippa. Now, I think about how she helped me through that dark time and how I have been doing the same for people in recovery since the 80s and before.

When we deal with our trauma, grief, and loss, we can help others. That is what I learned from the Sister, even though she didn’t share her trauma, I knew it was there or how else could she know what I was experiencing and help me through it.

Even though I do not consider myself Catholic, I am so grateful for Sister Philippa, OSB, and all the others like her in the world. Some people talk about angels walking among us on this planet and that could be another explanation for Sister Philippa, OSB.

~~~~~

First published by Mercury Press on medium.com

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About the Creator

Denise E Lindquist

Retired, working part-time as a Native American culture consultant. I have an MSE, and an ABD. I write on Vocal, and Facebook. Poetry, non-fiction mostly, and working on fiction. Wife, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother.

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    Written by Denise E Lindquist