Like most of us, I hold a love/hate relationship with the Internet. I hate how it grabs hold of my attention, provides me with far too much reading material, and thought provoking issues....Bill calls it the time machine...and I fear that he is right.
That then is the down side of this technological coupling. Now...why I love the Internet...
A few days ago I found among the comments on this blog a curious post. I was asked if I had attended Our Lady of the Rosary School and graduated long, long ago? Yes, I did. And might I have attended OLR with a girl named Madeline? Yes, I did. In fact there were two Madeline's in my elementary school....might she be one of them?
Yes! Not only was she one of the Madeline's, but she was the one I had hoped she might be!!!!! I remember Madeline as a lovely and kind girl with long dark hair, a pretty smile and two very sweet parents. I also remember her well for one special moment on a fall Sunday morning.
There was a girl in our class, Vicky, who during the height of Beatlemania, had spent a month in England visiting family there. To those of us who lived and breathed the Beatles, this girl was as close as we would ever get to our idols. After all, SHE had been to England!
We attended 9 o'clock Mass every Sunday morning during the school year, and there we lined up in order to sit with our class during Mass. We knew that Vicky would be wearing, on that Sunday, a fall outfit brought from England. We all looked with great anticipation down the hill for that first glance at her Liverpool-like threads.
Before long, up the hill came Vicky, in what must have been the most stylish suit and hat....well, perhaps in England. Think Carnaby Street, think this-is-so-not-Yonkers attire...but we thought she was fab!
Enter Sister Miriam Joseph...the coolest nun in the history of the Blauvelt Dominicans. She was young, pretty, hip....the woman wore Clearasil, chewed gum AND had long nails! She was pretty smooth...
She watched as we gathered around Vicky, saying nothing. And then it happened....Madeline walked down the hill towards our line near the churches side door looking like a dream. She wore a red plaid skirt...it may have been a kilt...a white turtleneck sweater and a smart beret. We all thought she looked great...she always did...but our attention was still on the English fashion maven.
Sister Miriam Joseph stood next to us, complimented Vicky on her outfit, looked over to where Madeline was standing and said: "Yes, Vicky looks very nice. But that (pointing to Madeline) is what you call classy. That is the way to wear classic, sharp clothes".
I have never forgotten her words. Here, the nun I adored for her style and grace, in those few words spoke of the simple difference between a fad and true classic style. She possessed an innate sense of style, and knew that Madeline did too.
I don't know if Madeline ever heard Sister's words. I don't think that she needed to hear them. She already knew about who she was, she knew her own style. I thought she was enormously poised and lovely. That in a seventh grade young woman is quite rare.
So now I have re-found Madeline. I hope we will share both our past and our present. It's wonderful to chat with someone who has shared a part of your history. Living here in Chicago, so many, many years from New York, has meant never running into someone who knew you way back when...
This is a true delight. So happy to have found Madeline once again....
