Mary Grace Falk was an adorable baby, and her parents envisioned their firstborn daughter to be cute, subdued, and holy in her future First Communion, Confirmation, graduation, and wedding photos. Instead of saying “It’s a girl!” the nurse should have said “It’s a new person who’s a total alien to you!”
Alas, Mary Grace stayed an alien. She did see herself as holy, and set out to sanctify the world one annoyed person at a time. As an adult, she became a nun and teacher. The boys adored her because unlike their other teachers, Sr. Immaculata understood that boys were just different. The girls loathed her, though, and called her Sr. Mary Evil behind her back. While she saw boys as a condemned building to be tolerated, she saw girls as a fixer-upper. The girls were perfectly happy reading fiction, wearing pants on the weekend, and putting barrettes and other adornments in their hair, and weren’t the least bit interested in being fixed. In fact, it had become a tradition for girls in her class to get their ears pierced the last day of school, just to annoy her.
The other sisters in her convent were no more enamored of her. Although she was physically small and skinny, she quickly filled any room she entered. She objected to the television on, unless it was “Touched By An Angel” or “Mother Angelica.” Even the nightly news was too worldly as well as unnecessarily frivolous. She didn’t approve of the lavish meals in the convent, either. Spaghetti for supper should be simply that: pasta and sauce. What kind of poverty included salad and garlic bread?
Nevertheless, the sisters in her convent must’ve learned something from her fine example of piety. When Sr. Boniface – as the lowest in the pecking order – went to see why Sr. Immaculata wasn’t at morning prayer and found her dead on the floor of her bedroom, the good sisters decided that holiness came first. They completed their prayer routine before calling a worldly ambulance.