by Sr. Jo Anne Kelly, MMM                                       Ireland                               18.02.2026

For some years I was Vocation Directress for our congregation. There were many religious Congregations of Woman in the country, and many young women interested in joining . At times I got numerous applications. I replied to every written application and if the girl continued corresponding so also did I.

We had visits to our house, get-togethers and retreats, and something I deemed very important, was my visit to the girl’s family. Being an international congregation, we were not very well known except in areas where we worked. My story is about a girl I will call Olivia.

Olivia was a nurse. She told me her mother really supported her and was proud that she wanted to be a religious sister. Her father, however, was very much against her entering. He was quite old with lots of health problems, and he just could not understand why she would not stay at home and look after him. And, he looked forward to more grandchildren.

When I arrived to visit the mother had gone to the market and Olivia didn’t know if her father would agree to see me or not. I told her to ask him and he said yes.

I entered the little portico that led into the house, and he was there on a mattress on the floor, seemingly in a lot of pain and unable to move much. He told Olivia to bring a chair for me. I sat down and asked him about his pains, what he was getting to help, and what he could still do. He was full of complaints. I suggested some things that might give some relief. I didn’t mention Olivia. Eventually he did and went on for a while about what he thought of her ideas. He said, “She tells me God is calling her, but I don’t know how she hears what God is saying when she can’t hear what her own father is saying”.

But he was interested. He asked some very good questions about the congregation and about religious life and eventually he asked Olivia to get the key of the ‘room.’ To my amazement he sat up, then stood up with the help of crutches, and moved haltingly into a lovely sitting room. He asked Olivia to bring the drinks.

While we were drinking, he told me something of his own involvement in the Church. He was one of the first Catholics in the village and very committed.

When I was leaving, with the help of Olivia, he walked to the car with me. As I sat into the car he said, “Before you go, I want you to know that none of this is your fault.” It was so touching, I could have cried.

Olivia did enter but shortly after she herself decided religious life was not for her and she left.