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Sister Reneé was always one of my favorites.
I once knew her birth name, but whatever it was, it’s deep in the lake of memory.
Reneé—the name I knew her by—was her religious name.
René was also her brother’s religious name.
She loved him and chose his name when it was time for her choosing.
At some point in his life at Gethsemane, he took long periods of silence.
When Reneé visited René, and speech was acceptable, it was difficult,
As if his body had forgotten how.
She told me that story.
She also held a dried golden leaf reverently in her fingers
And whispered to me:
¡Mira!
¡Mira!
*I only have several pictures of Sister Reneé. While this one is clearly double-exposed, it captures a feeling about her for me. The scale of human that she was far exceeded her minute frame. At another time, I may share more stories/poems about her, but I wanted to present a sketch of her that reflected her depth and simplicity. I hope that you have the chance to know someone as full of gracefulness as she was.