HERS WAS. Hers was a life of compliance.

Fulfilment of anothers wishes, observance of anothers needs, conformity to the rules set down in stone. She was the rubber of beads through fingers, touched by thumbs; the beads of the rosary would be sealed by prayers. She was the self denier, who put herself last, one who sacrificed pleasures for a promised salvation, whose menstruations were reminders of babies that would never be, children which would never be hers, dugs that would never be sucked. She carried the cross through cloisters, sandaled feet trod the paved paths, heard birdsong, saw butterflies in flight,

moths at night in the candles flame, she hidden away, unknown, no fame with a saints name. And each morning rising with the bell, kissed by the early dawn, touched by the chill of early frost, she lived and moved, all for love of Christ.