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The "Growing-Up" Days Teresa added inches to her height and the years
passed by. She received her First Communion, was confirmed, and
to complete a well-rounded formation she was taught sewing and
homemaking. Mama and Papa Merlo decided to send their daughter to
the sewing school in Turin. That way, after a few months of
intensive training she would return home a seamstress. It was
worth the fee and even the sacrifice of her absence from home for
the chance to learn such a useful trade.
But there were times - at least once in a while - when
her thoughts raced beyond her everyday life. "What if," she asked
herself, as she stood staring at the grassy fields, "what if I
could do more for God? I mean, the work could even be the same,
but the dedication greater, like that of sister?" She laughed to
herself. "How silly. You think too much." She turned abruptly and
went back to the house. A few of the mothers on neighboring farms asked Mrs.
Merlo if they could send their teenage daughters to Teresa for
sewing lessons. Mother and daughter talked about it, agreed,
worked out the schedule and the girls began to come. Teresa
taught what she knew, explained as much as was necessary,
repeated until it was clear for all. Then, she would do the work
herself, making the demonstration practical. But a class with Teresa Merlo meant more than just
sewing. She had an appealing way of teaching what people call
"virtues". Take, for example, the young girl who had a fine straw
sewing basket, equipped with needles, thread, thimble, darning
hall, and so on. The lid had a mirror fastened inside. The girl
would prop open the lid and watch herself, adjusting a curl,
moving her face to one side and then another. Teresa noticed but
did not say anything right away. She waited, then after more than
a few classes she walked up quietly behind the girl, looked at
her with a trace of a smile, and closed the lid. The girl's
cheeks flushed. Teresa passed on without a word and continued the
class in her normal tone of voice. ******************** The days were busy, but not busy enough to keep away
thoughts about the future... "My future," the twenty-one-year-old
seamstress was thinking. "Do I want to continue as I am here?" or
should I get married or..." the third choice left her perplexed.
She had that "sister" feeling again. "My Lord," she prayed with finality, "I will continue
here as I am until you show me another road. Whatever it is, I
want to do Your will."
Yes is Forever, by the Daughters of St. Paul, Copyright © 1981, Daughters of St. Paul. |