Dan, you had to get me started on Nun and confessional stories!
Sister N-------, wow! There was a mean little person in a 5' tall, maybe 80 pound frame. I have a scar on my right index finger knuckle which is still visible 60 odd years after being hit with one of those steel edged rulers. I am lucky I did not lose a finger. A buddy, Joe, helped me stop the bleeding and I had to tell my parents I fell off my bike because if I had told the truth, there would be two more beatings. This same sweet little Nun whacked by buddy Joe on the side of the head with a geography book because he was talking to the person in the next row. Joe was just straightening up from leaning over to talk when she whacked him. I can still see his glasses flying across the room and hitting the Venetian blinds. Thereafter, Joe had hearing loss in one ear. This was in the 1950's so there were no repercussions to the "hitter."
Confession could be really traumatic. My wife tells the story of when she was severely chastised by the priest for not having gone to confession for 2 months. She cried all the way home from the church and was sure she had a one way ticket to "Cinder City." In all seriousness, how much trouble could a 11 year old girl get into? I had a priest leave me in the confessional while he went to lunch! My brother was waiting for me to walk home together when I finally got out and he said, "What happened? I saw you go in and the priest came out!"
I was, however, able to solve my "confession" problem later in life while in high school. My buddies and I would go to an Italian church a couple of towns away for two reasons: a. the priests in our parish knew us very well, who we hung out with and who we dated, and b. the priest in the Italian church was about 80 years old and very hard of hearing. One could confess everything and Father G--------- only knew one was finished when he or she quit talking. You could have confessed to the Kennedy assassination and he would not even have blinked an eye. He would just assign a minimal penance and we were on our way to "go and sin some more."
And you are right, the guilt that we carried around as 13 and 14 year olds had to have some effect on us. Some of the things they taught us and told us, looking back now, were despicable.
Sister N-------, wow! There was a mean little person in a 5' tall, maybe 80 pound frame. I have a scar on my right index finger knuckle which is still visible 60 odd years after being hit with one of those steel edged rulers. I am lucky I did not lose a finger. A buddy, Joe, helped me stop the bleeding and I had to tell my parents I fell off my bike because if I had told the truth, there would be two more beatings. This same sweet little Nun whacked by buddy Joe on the side of the head with a geography book because he was talking to the person in the next row. Joe was just straightening up from leaning over to talk when she whacked him. I can still see his glasses flying across the room and hitting the Venetian blinds. Thereafter, Joe had hearing loss in one ear. This was in the 1950's so there were no repercussions to the "hitter."
Confession could be really traumatic. My wife tells the story of when she was severely chastised by the priest for not having gone to confession for 2 months. She cried all the way home from the church and was sure she had a one way ticket to "Cinder City." In all seriousness, how much trouble could a 11 year old girl get into? I had a priest leave me in the confessional while he went to lunch! My brother was waiting for me to walk home together when I finally got out and he said, "What happened? I saw you go in and the priest came out!"
I was, however, able to solve my "confession" problem later in life while in high school. My buddies and I would go to an Italian church a couple of towns away for two reasons: a. the priests in our parish knew us very well, who we hung out with and who we dated, and b. the priest in the Italian church was about 80 years old and very hard of hearing. One could confess everything and Father G--------- only knew one was finished when he or she quit talking. You could have confessed to the Kennedy assassination and he would not even have blinked an eye. He would just assign a minimal penance and we were on our way to "go and sin some more."
And you are right, the guilt that we carried around as 13 and 14 year olds had to have some effect on us. Some of the things they taught us and told us, looking back now, were despicable.
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