Josita's Voice

 

And he said unto me,

My grace is sufficient for thee:

for my strength is made perfect in weakness.

Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities,

that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

            — 2 Corinthians 12:9

 

 

She's a wonderful, fun nun, the relative of a relative. The first time I met Sister Josita, we were at a wedding rehearsal dinner, and I was seated next to another relative, a priest.

 

He had his clerical garb on, plain as day. Despite the obvious clue, some other party guest asked me, "Is that your husband?"

 

I looked at Sister Josita. She looked at me. We both burst out laughing. From that day forward, we had a bond.

 

But I just found out something that makes her even more precious to me, especially now that it's the Christmas season.

 

See, Josita contracted paralytic poliomyelitis during her senior year in high school. It was during the polio epidemic of the early 1950s. She spent an entire semester in the hospital and had months of physical therapy, but still graduated with her class.

 

 

Graduation photo, Class of 1953 . . .

dedicated her life to Christ shortly thereafter.

 

 

Even though she has had to deal with polio and its lifelong consequences, Josita has led an inspiring life. She graduated from college and worked as an elementary school teacher for 36 years. That career was followed up by many more years of service to her Notre Dame Community in "retirement" - as if -- ha ha. Nuns never truly retire, you know. She's still working, to this day, in the development office of the Notre Dame Community. They do a ton of good, here and around the world.

 

The thing is, soon after Sister Josita retired from teaching in the 1990s, she developed symptoms of Post-Polio Syndrome. That's fairly common for polio victims. In her case, it attacked her voice. Her left vocal cord became extremely weak. She began to have difficulty communicating. Her voice dropped to a raspy whisper.

 

Now, Josita is a delight to talk to. She can communicate very well. But you do have to listen carefully.

 

Of course, friends teased her that the reason she lost her voice is that she yelled at her kids all those years that she taught. Not a bit of it! She says she told the students that she was NOT the type to yell and scream. Instead, she told them, she would use a reasonable voice, and "you will just have to listen, because I might say something important, like, 'Recess time!'"

 

 

Sr. Josita . . . the Notre Dame Sisters

are celebrating 100 years in the United States,

but she'll be the first to tell you that no,

she WASN'T there in the early going.

 

 

Her engaging humor and great attitude also are shown by the fact that she loves those moments when she is meeting with people who don't know her well. After a few minutes of discussion, invariably somebody will ask, "Why are we whispering?"

 

            Her gracious attitude, like her whispering, is contagious. And that's a good thing. Would that there were more people in this world who never talk loud, and who make you want to listen. Josita chooses to look on the bright side, staying positive and appreciating blessings of all kinds, no matter how subtle.

 

And here is the best blessing of all:

 

In 2007, her elderly, widowed mother was quite ill in a nursing home. But miraculously, all eight of the adult children and most of their spouses were able to come from all around the country to celebrate her 99^th birthday with her. It was nearly Christmas.

 

There was birthday cake, and a party. But for the most part, their mother stayed quiet, kept her eyes closed and just squeezed her children's hands, letting them know she loved having them there. But her condition weakened.

 

One son, an archbishop, celebrated mass in the nursing home chapel, and brought Viaticum (Holy Communion given to Catholics who are on their final journey). The siblings split up the night vigil.

 

The next afternoon, all of the family sat or stood around the bed, praying a little. Then a brother suggested that, since it was almost Christmas, they should sing "Silent Night," the way they did when they were children.

 

Josita opened her mouth to sing, no doubt expecting only a weak rasp to come out.

 

Much to her surprise, though, out came a strong voice, in the alto harmony that she always sang to "Silent Night."

 

She began singing the song, and the rest joined in, astounded, as she was. "They all just kind of looked at me," Josita said.

 

She said, "The miracle of that moment was that, even though there was a large cupboard behind me and I was backed up to it, I felt a warm presence behind me, as if there were someone standing right behind me.

 

"It felt as though there were strong hands gently around my neck. The warmth put strength in my vocal cords I had not felt for 11 years."

 

Tears shining in her eyes, Josita sang the first and second verses of "Silent Night," belting out the chorus, overwhelmed with joy.

 

Josita said, "It wasn't anything I had planned. I hadn't wished that I could sing to Mother. But of course, that was the best birthday gift for her imaginable. I feel sure that it was Jesus, behind me, helping me. He would know the deepest desire of my heart even better than I would."

 

She also felt that, through some mystery, her late father was also in the room. He was the one who had continued her physical therapy after graduation, as she fought off the polio. They formed a very special bond. "He taught me how to cope with the physical pain and accept my limitations," Josita said. And now here he was, in spirit, showing her that, with Christ, there ARE no limitations.

 

As quickly as it came, though, the vocal strength passed. She could only whisper songs and prayers for the rest of the afternoon. "No voice - absolutely nothing," she said. "So I knew it was a miracle."

 

The room was peaceful. Just a few hours later, the siblings gathered around the bed, and the mother slowly breathed her last breath.

 

You know, the story just makes the point that the greatest blessings in this life can only come to those who are suffering. If Josita's voice hadn't gotten so weak, that moment of supernatural power could never have happened.

 

Josita puts it this way:

 

"We know that God is there constantly for us. Nothing will ever happen to you that you and He can't handle together."

 

You said it, Sister. What a message for today. Sing it, loud! Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere, that Jesus Christ is alive and well and in this world.

 

And come what may, with His incredible power, He will give you a song to sing, strongly, beautifully, and full of grace. †