Holy Ground

"I'm standing on holy ground." As a Daughter of Charity, and as a former high school teacher, I have had several opportunities to travel to holy places in Europe and in America. But here in the United States, I was very much aware of being on "holy ground".

During my early formation days and for the many years after, as I returned to the valley of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton in Emmitsburg, Maryland, I always knew and felt that I was approaching "holy ground", a place where Elizabeth Ann's footsteps trod and made holy.

This past August, after 51 years in the ministry of teaching in the Catholic school system, I had the privilege of returning to this holy ground, to the cradle of my vocation, and more specifically to the Shrine of Saint Elizabeth Ann to work as a docent.

Since I arrived, I have walked this "holy ground" with new enthusiasm, with new challenges and with an entirely new perspective. I am privileged to introduce this holy ground, these holy places and this holy woman to numerous visitors. It seems to me that each day I walk toward these holy places with new eyes, new feet, and new challenges. Those who come here, whether for the first time on pilgrimage, or just stopping by for a quick visit with "Mother Seton," go away with new knowledge and new love for this valiant woman.

Each time I talk to these visitors I feel privileged to be able to share my knowledge with them and I find myself wanting to know more and more about Saint Elizabeth Ann. I have many opportunities to do this as I wait at various tour sites for visitors to arrive. These quiet times are a dream come true for me because in my teaching career they were few and far between. Questions asked by visitors challenge me to delve into the past to be certain I have been correct in my responses to them. I have spent time, and lost myself in the writings and letters of Elizabeth Ann Seton, Bishop Simon Gabriel Brute, and many other early directors and sisters, and have read about both the Seton and Bayley families.

I stand in awe at the Shrine of Saint Elizabeth Ann in the basilica. As I watch the prayerful devotion of so many visitors, I thank God for the vision of those who planned this inspiring chapel. I stand and watch the wonder on the faces of those who see the many mementos in the shrine museum. I love watching their reactions as they look upon the very first chapel, the tiny alcove in the Stone House, and I try to place myself there in 1809 for morning and evening prayer. Each time I greet the visitors in the White House where Mother Seton died, I try to see and hear the sorrowing sisters as they approach her death bed. In the cemetery, near the remains of the old oak tree, I can almost hear the voices of sisters who were so unexpectedly taken in death during the early years of the nineteenth century.

As a teacher, I loved my time in the classrooms in so many different places. I have beautiful, humorous, and some sad memories of those years, but would not want to change any of them. This past year, it seems as if my time of fulfillment as a teacher has arrived. As a docent, a derivative of the Latin verb docere, which literally translated means "to teach", I teach as I stand on this holy ground, and I share my knowledge with those who come to Elizabeth Ann Seton's valley home to be energized and spiritualized by her life and example.

As a teacher, I always sought some quiet moments before each class to review my lesson plans in preparation for a challenging class, and yes, as a docent, I still teach, but my lesson plans have a different thrust. Now, those quiet moments before the day begins are ones of peaceful prayer and quiet reflection as I walk this "holy ground" in anticipation of coming visitors, who also want to know more about St. Elizabeth Ann.