Looking for a story, he finds inspiration

Sister Carole Suhar belongs to the Order of the Ursuline Sisters. She lives with a small group of nuns in the rectory of Holy Name Parish. Forty-years ago, I was a student at its parochial school. The Ursuline Sisters were my teachers. Recently, I returned to Holy Name for a visit. I was searching for a story for a Christmas article and I was drawn to their service. And so, on a cold November afternoon, I found myself walking up the rectory’s front entranceway.

To my right, the stained glass windows of Holy Name Church rose above me. They reminded me of my days as a young boy in the parish neighborhood. I lived only a few houses away then. I remembered how those windows shone brightly in winter’s darkness during Christmas Eve Mass. I could see their colors of blue, red, and gold from my driveway as I helped my father shovel snow.

The sounds of the season

And, I remembered how the sound of the church organ and choir drifted softly across the still and quiet neighborhood. If we listened closely, we could hear their words sing: “See amid the winter’s snow; Born for us on earth below; See, the gentle lamb appears; Promised from eternal years.”

I reached down and pressed the rectory doorbell. Sister Carole welcomed me. The afternoon light touched gently upon her silvery hair. She led me to a chair in the parlor and I explained the reason for my visit. I inquired of the Ursuline Sisters’ work with Beatitude House.

“Beatitude House is a realization of a dream of Sister Margaret Scheetz”, she began. “Sister Margaret was inspired by the story of a homeless mother who made the painful choice of giving up her daughter for adoption — so that her child would have the chance for a better life.” She continued, “Sister Margaret vowed to break that cycle of homelessness and poverty; and today, homeless women are served by Beatitude House in Youngstown, Warren, and Girard.” I learned that each resident is provided education and training. And, I learned that many become productive and self-sufficient members of our society.

We spoke at length. The 40 years that had passed since my boyhood seemed to fall away. I was the student once more; she was the teacher. When our conversation ended, I stood and thanked Sister Carole for her time. Her soft blue eyes smiled. She shook my hand and walked me to the front door.

As I made my way down the entranceway, I realized I had found my story. It is a story of compassion and sacrifice; of service to God and community; and of love of one’s fellow man. It is the story of the Ursuline Sisters. And, it is a story that embraces all the meaning and spirit of Christmas.

Christmas Eve will arrive to anticipation and wonder; and the world will rejoice. On the lower West Side of Youngstown a church organ will play; and the sound of a choir will carry through brightly lit stained glass windows. If you listen closely, you may hear their words sing in the evening hours across a still and quiet neighborhood: “Hail that ever blessed morn; Hail redemption’s happy dawn; Sing through all Jerusalem; Christ is born in Bethlehem.”

Kindness and thanks

In a Beatitude House across town, a homeless and troubled young woman with nowhere else to turn will be provided food, shelter, and comfort. And, in a parish rectory on the West Side of Youngstown, Sister Carole will gather with her fellow Ursuline Sisters. In prayerful voice they will give thanks to God for the birth of our savior, Christ the Lord, who came not to reign but to serve — a tiny child who would grow to make blind men see and lame men walk — and who would bring hope to this world.

As the evening closes, the last light at Holy Name Parish will fade. The stained glass windows in the church will darken once more, and the Ursuline Sisters will rest. And, in a warm and safe room in a Beatitude House, a troubled young woman will find the gifts of peace and hope through the service of strangers — strangers who remember the lesson of love given in a child’s birth on a deep and starry night so long ago.

And on Christmas morning, in this tired and worn steel town community, God will abide.

X David Bobovnyik is a Youngstowner with fond memories of growing up on the city’s West Side, which he shares from time to time..