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It is not what you are nor what you have been that God sees with
all merciful eyes,
but what you desire to be.
The Cloud of Unknowing
There
is something wanting in education where a child has not had its share of
leisure, to be rapt in silence and alone…
Janet Stuart rscJ
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Sr Bernadine McSherry, RSCJ
10.08.1913 - 16.10.2003
 “Can any good come out of Nazareth?
Come and see!”
Can any good come out of Pahiatua? Come and see! Bernadine Anne McSherry was
proud of her small New Zealand town,
grateful for her happy home life and her Brigidine primary education.
But, like so many of us, when she became a boarder at Island Bay, she fell in
love with the Society of the Sacred Heart. Picture her there, a small sturdy
person, plaits flying at the games she excelled in, head bent over study,
imagination revelling in art, poetry and history, heart absorbed in faith and
devotions, moments in dreamland, singer in the choir, Blue Ribbon, Child of
Mary, - it all stayed with her and increased from year to year. For her, life
Keats,
‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty’ – that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.’
She entered at Rose Bay in 1934, made her final profession in Melbourne in 1943
and, as far as the outside world was concerned, disappeared for
44 years! 13
years at Rose Bay, teaching, Mistress of the Junior Classes, Mistress of
Discipline…11 years at Baradene, Mistress of Discipline and secondary classes…10
years in Melbourne, Surveillante of the Junior School, potter, painter, student
at Caulfield Technical College. 5 years at Island Bay, the last three as
Assistant to the Superior. We can picture her still during those years, ruling
her small junior kingdom with firmness, humour and complete dedication… a dot at
the head of perfect senior ranks (do you realize she was the same height as St
Madeleine Sophie?), fixing the study room with her beady eye, conducting
rehearsals with clarity and not nonsense, quite stern, occasionally explosive,
always fair, always respected, always liked. A keen mistress of recreation
urging us on, leading us fiercely at cache, barracking for the Irish on
St Patrick’s day. An inspiriational teacher, with a love of words and great
patience with our efforts at art.
It was in the cultural activities that we saw her best: A superb mistress of the
green room, painting stage sets and divising costumes out of nothing, with her
wonderful eye for colour, line and texture; directing school productions from
behind the scenes with her chosen envied band of helpers. Think of the
spectacular plays, dramas and tableaux she produced! A gifted needlewoman,
embroidering, smocking, dressmaking. At Burke Road a keen potter, tending her
kiln like a hot busy gnome, to the fascination of the juniors and the terror of
the authorities.
She was one of the merriest people I ever lived with, witty in community, deep
and serious minded, ready for a Joke, a wonderfully expressive reader - aloud
But she had her silences, and I'm sure her struggles, and her disappointments,
like missing out on going to Rome for her profession because of the war, and
having eventually to give up her activities because of failing health and
eyesight. However the "changes" in religious life in the 70s and 80s came in
time for her to move into a wider world, and adult education, for which she was
so well fitted. She had nine golden years in Massey parish, involved in retreats
and Scripture classes, the instruction of converts and the visiting of homes,
where she made many friends, loving and loved, sharing the pent-up treasures of
her spiritual life.
Leaving all this in 1993 was surely one of the hardest things the Lord asked of
her.
"All which I took from thee I did but take,
Not for thy harms,
But just that thou mightst seek it in my arms." wrote Francis Thompson, a
favourite poet.
And the last ten years at Baradene were far from inactive. With her strong
will, she mastered the visual aids supplied by the Blind Institute, she joined
U3A her radio and tape-recorder were always beside her, even in hospital; she
read as long as she could see and watched night TV long after she couldn't. She
still sought light and colour in everything around her. She loved being read to.
She enjoyed going for drives, visits from friends, and the loving attentions of
her family. She took a lively part in community discussions, often coming in at
the end with the most profound and original thoughts. She relished spiritual
conversation and hotly denied that she was a socialist or a pantheist! As her
strength and eyesight faded, her vision turned inward to prayer and acceptance
but with her strong will, not without a fight.
So many times when we sat beside her as she struggled on I was reminded of
another favourite poem, Browning's "Prospice":
"I was ever a fighter, so - one fight more
The best and the last!
I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forbore,
And bade me creep past."
But the last time was short and last Thursday the offering complete. At the
moment of her dying in hospital a rainbow parrakeet appeared at a Baradene
window. paused and flew away. One of the sympathy messages said, "No doubt
sunsets will be more radiant and rainbows more vibrant as her-artistic ability
is given fuIl rein," Let’s look for them as she did. And we love to give her
back to God on this colourful Feast of Mater Admirabilis.
On Bernadine's behalf, lend with a quotation from .St John on the Cross:
"0 woods and thickets planted by the hand of my Beloved!
0 green, meadow, coated bright, with flowers,
Tell me, has He passed by you?
Pouring out a thousand graces, He passed these groves in haste;
And having looked at them; with His image alone,
Clothed them in beauty.”
By Sr Margaret D'Ath, RSCJ
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