Sister Mary is a happy nun in the order of the Sisters of Ever Increasing Hope. By day she is content with devotion and prayers. But late at night, for a bit of fun she sneaks down the abby stairs.
There in a dark and dank corner of the basement is a musty gray room with tall ceiling. In the center of the room sits a tape recorder on a wooden chair. This is a room without a cross. The Lord is not worshipped there. Instead Sister Mary pays homage to a different King. His picture hangs on the wall - not to be worshipped but admired. Yes, she will allow admiration. A small sin surely but it was God himself that gave him the voice that changed the music of his generation. Admiration for one of God’s miracles cannot be too great a sin. And if it is, then she willingly risks purgatory for her few minutes of joy each night.
The music’s volume is kept low. She cannot risk discovery. Her vows forbid this kind of worldliness but the music living in her soul gives her pardon. She dances cautiously knowing it could open the door to impure thoughts. She focuses her mind on the music itself and takes delight in the rhythm. For fifteen minutes each day she casts a line to the other world and pulls it close.
And when it ends the bulb is extinguished and the doorway to her world of color and sound is locked. The key is safely tucked away in her long dark robe. She walks toward the stairway. The hallway echoes the clicking of her solid black shoes on the stone floor. She climbs the steps back into solitude with a heart bursting with the wonders of God and the miracle of man, whom God made in his image. Religion is everywhere for Sister Mary. She sees God in all his creations.
She passes the Chapel and stops to bow toward the alter. She continues to her bedroom. Prayers will send her to sleep and then the sun will rise again and fill the world with warmth and color.
Sister Mary is a happy nun.