Once upon a very long-ago time, I was living on East 48th Street in Manhattan. Midtown, they call it, (I had so much to learn!), and I was living with the writer Kurt Vonnegut and the photographer Jill Krementz as their nanny.
I learned a lot about life in New York that fall—about their life, certainly, about being one person among thousands on those crazy-busy streets—but most important of all, I learned about me. I learned about who I was, and who I was called to be, because while I was there I went on retreat.
That long-ago nanny from North Dakota is deeply grateful to her employers. Were it not for them, she may not have met St. Ignatius.
The story of my life had its climax that week. That retreat, based on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola, was to have such a profound effect on my soul and my outlook, that I dropped out of college; wandered about France for a year; re-enrolled in college; met and married my husband.
There’s much, much more to the story, of course. You get the gist—my life really changed.
If I were to win the lottery, (do you ever dream about winning the lottery?), I would establish a fund to send people on retreat. It would have to be the Spiritual Exercises, though. I’d be just that controlling a philanthropist because I know that their lives would be transformed.
Transformation in Christ at the hands of one man, one saint.
Please God, I cannot wait to meet him.