Mother Aloysius, D.C.- life story


Mother Aloysius of Our Lady Of Good Counsel, D.C.

chapters: 2.   3.   4.  A.

 

    

FOREWORD

      A pen sketch, like letters, ought to begin near the end, state the facts as concisely as possible and then stop, its message well told, resembling a precious jewel in a perfect setting of gold. But this kind of writing demands a special mort of literary genius. Lacking this, the paragraphs which follow will strive not to over reach themselves and will describe in a simple fashion the back ground and historical development of a beautiful soul who sanctified herself, and also the cloister of Bettendorf Carmel, with a life of generous self-sacrifice and prayer.

CHAPTER 1.

Deerfield

     In the days when our nation was restoring order to the aftermath of a Civil War, a young Austrian, couple, carrying their little two-year old son, disembarked in New York City after a hazardous trip across the Atlantic. Mr. Frank Pirkl, the young mother's brother, had already settled in America, and had his secret   ambition seems to have been to populate the entire state of Minnesota with the whole of Austria. He finally succeeded in firing the pioneer blood of Edward and Anna Heiker, and March, 1868, found the couple settled at last in a rough log cabin just outside the small German settlement of Deerfield.

     During that summer, a little baby girl joined the family and was given her mother's name, Anna. But due to the many hardships of those pioneer days when food was scarce and poverty plentiful, the frail little girl died and was buried in Faribault, a distance of twelve miles from Deerfield. In an automobile nowadays, twelve miles is nothing. In a sleigh drawn by a team of oxen, it required two days of steady traveling But the trip was made in safety, and life went on as usual in the little log cabin.

     Baby John was destined to be the only boy in the family, but he was soon able to romp with six lovely little sisters. Mary arrived in January, 1870, followed by another little Anna, who was

born on February 25, 1872, and whom we all revere as Mother Aloysius. Amelia, Mathilda, (who died at the age of two), Ida, and Nettie completed the family circle.

     During the late 1800's, winters were exceptionally cold and icy in Minnesota, and a blizzard was ranging in Deerfield the day the second little Anna was barn. The twelve-mile ride to the only Catholic Church in the vicinity being out of the question for weeks, the child was baptized in the home of Mr. Andrew Wirzler, a next-door neighbor.   The identity of the one who actually baptized her remains unknown, but later, on March 14, 1872, Father Clem Scheve performed the solemn rite of Baptism in St. Lawrence's Church, Faribault, with Mr. John. Wirzler and Mrs.Anna Schmidt acting as sponsors.

     Mr. Frank Pirkl, the trail-blazing brother, continued to interest himself in the growing family, and he was able to persuade the parents to purchase a good farm five miles away from his own. This farm was eventually known as the Heiker Homestead. All was in readiness for the move shortly after Anna's fourth birthday, but an unexpected difficulty arose when the children were bundled into a carload of hay drawn by a pair of horses.. Little Anna had never seen such wild animals as horses before, and her tears of fright delayed the start for almost an hour until she finally fell asleep in Mary's arms.

      Catholics in the settlement of Deerfield were few and far between, and this mission territory would be attended by a priest only once or twice a year. No one ever knew when to expect the missionary for Mass, but whenever his presence was announced, hasty preparations would be made in the privileged home of Mr. Andrew Wirzler with no voluntary absentees. Mrs. Heiker was a fervent Catholic of solid piety, and she carefully supervised the prayers of her family. It was she who taught her children to love the Liturgy by instructing them in the ceremonies of the altar, and when they were deprived of Mass, she would faithfully pick up a copy of Goffine's MASS BOOK, procured from Benziger Bros., and devoutly. recite all the prayers aloud including the Epistle and Gospel for the day. The recitation of the family rosary and Our Lady's litany were regular practices of devotion, second only to the Mass in importance. Our Blessed Lady was no stranger in that pius household.

      Christmas was always a family feast, clouded only by the impossibility of attending Mass. The feast began with a religious instruction on the meaning of Christmas Day, and afterwards, Mrs. Heiker would surprise the children with a johnnycake she baked especially- for this occasion. (For years, Anna thought this Johnnycake had been named after her big brother, John!) Tinsel and toys were unknown in that penniless era, but once in awhile, the youngsters were allowed to attend Christmas Eve services with friends in a near-by Congregationalist Church as that they could receive an apple and some candy and nuts at the distribution at the end. As soon as they arrived home, however, the anxious mother would insist that her children kneel down and thank God for His gifts, and also beg Him for the conversion of the Conregationalists. Later, Mother Aloysius would always laugh about her "Congregationalist affiliations.”

      There was never any constraint in the good mother's methods of instruction. Shortly after Christmas one year, Anna was romping through the house with her brother and sisters when an noisy quarrel arose among them to mar the game. That evening, Anna received a note from Little Jesus who told her how sorry He was that she had been so naughty, and He asked her to be very good in the future and not quarrel anymore with the other children. Anna was so overjoyed to receive a letter from Little Jesus that she placed it carefully In her prayer book and guarded it carefully from loss or theft. several weeks later, she happened to open a scrapbook and noticed a corner had been torn out, the exact size and shape of the note paper Little Jesus had used. Although she quickly recognized the human agent involved, she did not regret the deception so much as the disappointment that it was not Little Jesus' handwriting she had been prizing all this time. Such were the simple means used by Mrs.. Heiker to mould her ambitious children into the ways of Christ.

    When Anna was six years old, she was enrolled in the Deerfield public grammar school which meant a three-mile hike back and forth in pitch-dark during the winter months. At the age of twelve, it was decided she could make her-First Holy Communion with her sister Mary, who was fourteen. After a diligent study of the catechism at home, the great day arrived when they were introduced to father Van Lent, pastor of St. Lawrences, in Faribault. He quickly discovered that the young girls were thoroughly grounded in the rudiments of' their holy religion, and after giving them a brief review of the Sacrament, he admitted them to the First Communion class, and they. received our Lord into their hearts, all the same day! This was January 4, 1885, during a Mission then going on in the parish, as Mother noted on a holy card which she kept in her Bible all through the years.

      Everyone liked Anna. Her shy, retiring manner was a stabilizing influence wherever she went, and though her social life was restricted to home and school, her friends remained faithful to her until the day she died. But her natural timidity occasionally got her into trouble, like the time when, passing through the kitchen, she spied a steaming plate of liver on the edge of the stove. She could not resist, stretched out her childish hand far a slice, and managed to topple the whose thing down to the grounds She ran and hid herself. After the first excitement subsided, she reappeared, took a deep breath, and confessed to her mother that she was the culprit. Her mother, who had threatened the worst, promised not to punish her because she was honest enough to admit it. "But why didn't you ask for the liver in the first place?" was her query. “I was scared,” was the child's truthful reply.

      Even the animals in the barnyard sensed her timidity, and she described how one gander made the most of it. Although the gander would always run in the opposite direction whenever anyone ventured outdoors, Anna's presence was the signal for him to stand his ground, and Anna would be the one to turn her back and run. John and Mary and the others used to tell Anna not to act like that because the gander was just as scared as she was and would run away if she didn't. This seemed sound advice, and one bright day, Anna sauntered forth, holding her courage firmly in her hands. The gander saw her coming but did not budge. Anna walked closer, waited a Moment, and then--dropping her courage at the gander's feet--ran towards the house for all she was worth, the villainous gander flying after her, pecking her hand and shoulders whenever he could.

      Although this trait of temperament was one of her chief characteristics, Anna valiantly waged war against it right from the start, and. to all her playmates, she was a "regular little soldier” As is well known, children rarely make a mistake in the matter of character analysis, and to prove that she was able to rise to the occasion in spite of her natural bent, we recall an incident which took place at a children's party one evening. During one of these rare youthful gatherings, a storm suddenly broke overhead, complete with thunder and lightning, which suggested the telling of ghost stories as suitable entertainments Instinctively, the little boys vied with one another in terrifying the little girls with their imaginings. Anna could not help visualizing those dark, shadowy fields which separated her from her family, and she begged the boys to escort her home. They. gallantly promised. But when the time came to bid farewell, Anna and her sister Amelia, found themselves trudging the terrible distance alone in the storm, and poor Anna derived slight consolation in the realization that her sister was younger than she!

      Her timidity was coupled with guileless simplicity, and this was noticeable especially in awkward situations. She who was naturally timid readily sympathized with those who were painfully shy, and her skill in drawing them out was spontaneous and successful. But her generosity was not always appreciated in every

quarter, and one afternoon she was informed in no uncertain terms that when one little boy escorted you to a party, you did NOT eat ice cream with another little boy who might be shy and backward in crowds!

      As the years advanced, the simplicity, of the child deepened in the adult, and charity, became the working   principle of her every action. Early in life, Anna had been taught to master her emotions by the word and examples of her wise parents. Her delicate constitution was an easy prey to sensitiveness, but children were never pampered in the Heiker Homestead, and Anne soon learned the manly art of self-control by making a virtue of necessity. A certain kind of breakfast food was very distasteful to Anna, and her mother was fully, aware of the struggle her daughter was having with it. Instead of supplying a substitute, Mrs. Heiker would endeavor to ease the situation by offering to eat part of the portion for her. Since this breakfast food was regularly, on the menu, the young girl frequently went to school hungry, but the thought never crossed her mind to complain. The temptation to criticize was one of Anna's temperamental weaknesses, but this rigid training at home tended to strength her character when it would do the most good.

      In such a friendly. atmosphere as this, Anna grew up, applying the rudiments of asceticism to her daily life without any realization of what the word really meant. As proof that reasons learned in childhood were still intact in adolescence, the following incident is worth recording. Shortly after Anna's graduation from High School, word went around Deerfield that a new floor had just been installed in the Heiker Homestead. Now it was an accepted custom for all the young people in the adjacent farms to be the first to use new floors   by dancing upon them, and thus it was that a crowd of teenagers arrived one evening and announced that they were prepared to enjoy this floor to the utmost. Chagrin was theirs when Mr. Heiker thwarted their plans by keeping everyone outdoors. This Was quite a mortification for sensitive young Anna, but her father's word was law, and she accepted it unhesitatingly with true daughterly affection. Respect for parental authority governed her life and accounts for her shocked surprise whenever she heard of childish tantrums which have since become so fashionable in so many homes today and which generally go unpunished.

      Upon the completion of sixth grade, Anna transferred to Bethlehem Academy, the only Catholic grammar school in Faribault, where she boarded with Catholic families and worked after school hours to pay her expenses. This school   was taught by Dominican Sisters from Sinsinawa, and were the only sisterhood Anne ever contacted personally before she came to Carmel. She went on with her studies at Owatonna High School and somehow managed to get extra religious instructions at St. Joseph's Church were Father P. Kearnen was pastor. This worthy priest became her spiritual director and staunch friend throughout the years. She graduated with a teacher's certificate, and her class profhesied she would be the best teacher among all the Sisters of Charity. (To the non-Catholics of Owatonna High, the Sisters of Charity were the acme of educational proficiency.)

 

      Days at school were filled with unvaried study and hard work. Anna learned to keep house on the farm and do necessary chores in the barn, and field. But her keen intellect found time to absorb various forms of learning, and she assimilated all of it effortlessly. History and mechanical sciences were her favorites. She used to enjoy comparing sacred and profane History in such a way as to analyze the struggles of each age with the corresponding quality of sanctity required to bring order out of chaos. This gift of synthesis proved invaluable during her years in Office when the problems of young Carmelites would receive a sympathy and practical solution that aroused their astonishment. She always seemed to understand the kind of heroism God was demanding from each generous heart, and she would encourage them to give without ever stopping to count the cost.

      During her senior year in l889, Anna was maid-of-honor at the wedding of her older sister, Mary, who became the wife of Nicholas Roell, a native of Faribault. This was the first break in the family circle, and Anna knew it would not be long before all the rest would likewise be an their way. She herself had always felt attracted to the teaching profession, but she now began to think in terms of vacation, and she earnestly prayed God to enlighten her to know His Holy Will.

      When she accepted a teaching position in the Deerfield grammar school after her graduation, Anna hoped to be instrumental in encouraging her young charges to raise their hearts to God at all

times no matter how prosaic the subject the class might be studying. But one day she found herself in a reverse role, a pre-school age youngster in the person of her sister taking the initiative. It seems that a neighbor had been fortunate enough to purchase a lovely, pump-organ for their home, but the older Heiker girls, when elaborating on its manifold excellences, sorrowfully agreed that it would be years before a similar piece of furniture would ever grace their own parlor. A cheerful observation from the little four-year old interrupted the discussion: Oh, who cares about organs anyway? Don't you know we just got a new holy water font?”   Mother Aloysius never forgot the lesson contained in her sister's appreciation.

      Although she enjoyed being with children in the classroom, Anna did not think this was the vocation God had in mind for her. One day she came across a holy card which was a commemoration of the Golden Jubilee of the Baltimore Carmel, and later, paging through a Benziger Bros. weekly newspaper, she read a notice that the Sisters in Baltimore Carmel wanted applications. In a flash, she knew her prayer was heard, and that God wanted her in Carmel. However, she could not help feeling a bit uneasy about the final outcome. Baltimore was miles away, and she knew next to nothing about life in a cloistered monastery.

      In her characteristic careful way, she clipped the item neatly from the paper to have some tangible evidence in her possession that a Carmel actually existed in America, and quietly made arrangements with Father Joseph Pavlin, the new pastor in Faribault, for an appointment to discuss her plans. Father was very dubious because of her health. (Anna was afflicted with ocassional nose-bleeds which seemed to be telling an her strength.) But he promised to write for further information without raising her hopes too high. And with that the interview was closed.

      Undaunted, she went to Owatonna and visited Father Kearnen, her director. His deep spiritual insight at once prompted him to encourage Anna to do all in her power to gain an early entrance into Carmel. It was obvious to him that this was a genuine call from God, and he advised her to consider all obstacles that would arise as so many tricks of the devil to keep her from saving the countless souls her prayers in Carmel would gain for Heaven.

      With that assurance, her spirit soared with new hope, and she began to watch for a suitable opportunity to broach the subject to her parents. To her keen disappointment, her beloved father insisted that Carmel would mean an early grave because her delicate health would break under the rigors of such a penitential life. His words were emphatic an that point, but with true fatherly solicitude, he suggested that she use her talents more advantageously in a convent less severe, or better still, remain at home where he could take care of her. Her mother did not venture to voice her opinion other than to ask her family to pray for light and guidance in the matter.

      During this interval of indecision, Anna chanced to read a volume entitled THE LIFE OF ST. TERESA OF AVILA, and this was the beginning of her great devotion to Carmel's Mother Foundress. Moreover, here was ample proof in the person of Saint Teresa herself that robust health is not the primary, much less the only, requisite for entrance into Carmel. Was not Saint Teresa frequently ailing and sickly? Well, Anna was a far cry from being an invalid in any sense of the word, and she was convinced God would make it possible for her to enter Carmel soon. Her attitude of gentle persuasion, together with her announced intention that she would sacrifice her deepest desire if her father would not give his consent, proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that this vocation was true, and Mr. Heiker at last withdrew his opposition and agreed to allow her to go to Baltimore as she wished. Although this good man had ample reason to believe that he would never see his daughter again, his staunch faith was unwavering in the conviction that God's Holy Will was the all important consideration, and that was all that mattered to him. But he did lay down one stipulation: Anna was to return home at once if she was not anything more than a mediocre Carmelite. And Mrs. Heiker seconded her husband's ultimatum. Anna's cup of joy was full to overflowing.

 

      Just then, Amelia whispered to Anna that she too was planning on entering Religion, but since Anna was older, she should go first. Amelia would leave later. Anna, who had been thinking of waiting for another year or so before leaving home, now began negotiations with the Baltimore Carmel for as early an entrance as possible.

      The entrance date was set for December, and at the end of the second semester, Anna resigned from the teaching staff to get her affairs in order. Mary found time to sew the postulant dress and cape and some of the other necessary articles. The clothing requirements which Anna received from Carmel had specified “Woolen blankets but no colored borders.” Owatonna is famous for its fine woolen blankets, so Anna ordered hers there, insisting there be no colored borders on them, just brown or black. How was Anna to know Carmel did not mean blue blankets with black borders? When she arrived at Carmel with her lovely pastel shades, the Nuns smiled indulgently at their postulant's good taste, but she was not allowed to use the blankets until they were plunged into a brown dye which bleached them into a nondescript greyish green.

      November 30, 1891, dawned with skies heavy with snow. Rising early, Mr. and Mrs. Heiker and Mary drove into Faribault with Anna, ,who was to catch her train there. The conversation was labored, and Anna knew the farewell would wring her mother's sensitive heart. So she promised herself not to weep until she was on the train. In the coach she spied an unoccupied double seat, rushed over to it, and without delay, lowered the veil an her hat so she could cry to her hearts content, Her poor mother, watching the veil being lowered and seeing Anna's oblivion to her family's presence outside her window, jumped to the obvious conclusion that her daughter was thereby severing all family, ties and had begun to live her cloistered life right an the train!

      The train moved out of the station into open prairie. As they passed through Owatonna at this. early hour, poor Anna's melancholy mood gave rise to the sorrowful thought that none of her classmates knew she was on this train, much less on her way to enter Carmel, and the idea made her more lonely than ever! Excitement entered her life in Chicago (where every pedestrian carried a rifle to defend himself from racketeers). In that wild city she would have to change trains, and she had been warned of every possible danger. As her foot touched the station platform, a gentleman came up to her and ordered her in a gruff, hasty way, to get into a waiting cab to be driven to the other depot which was newly inaugurated that morning. Was he a racketeer? Should she trust him? Her dilemma was solved by three elderly ladies whom she had met on the train and who now invited her to come with them. And Anna was among the first to use the former Union Depot in what is now Chicago's Loop.

      The rest of the trip was made without mishap, and at last, on December 2, 1891, Anna entered the Baltimore enclosure where she was welcomed with sisterly affection such as is unsuspected by the world outside. The feast of St. Francis Xavier was being celebrated, and under the patronage of this great missionary, Anna began her own apostolate in quest of souls for Christ.

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