Dear Dear! Sister Joan ....
What does one say about Sister Mary Joan SND?
Apart from all the wonderful things that her many students and colleagues no doubt will recall about her, I for one will always remember the time one of her ferocious bloodthirsty hounds stalked me as I emerged from some NDCC late night production work and walked to the Notre Dame gate one winter night .
The brute promptly sunk its fangs into my new winter coat, ripping its sleeve. Had it not been for the prompt intervention of Ganesh, the night watchman, I’d either been eaten alive or probably have ended up pushing daisies, through sheer cardiac arrest.
Apart from all the wonderful things that her many students and colleagues no doubt will recall about her, I for one will always remember the time one of her ferocious bloodthirsty hounds stalked me as I emerged from some NDCC late night production work and walked to the Notre Dame gate one winter night .
The brute promptly sunk its fangs into my new winter coat, ripping its sleeve. Had it not been for the prompt intervention of Ganesh, the night watchman, I’d either been eaten alive or probably have ended up pushing daisies, through sheer cardiac arrest.
Within minutes the portly figure of dear Sister Joan emerged from the gloaming, she bore down on watchman, canine, and its victim reciting an unending stream of ‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!’, and then she turned to me with an exasperated look, shaking her head.
“And what did you do to upset my poor baby?” she demanded, cradling and caressing that slobbering animal who would have surely bitten off my arm had it not been for the thick padding in the coat.
“And what did you do to upset my poor baby?” she demanded, cradling and caressing that slobbering animal who would have surely bitten off my arm had it not been for the thick padding in the coat.
The torn coat and the shattered and traumatised human being were of no concern to her. Her beloved dogs took pride of place. She was absolutely oblivious of serious the incident was.
Her logic was simple. No visitors had any business being on the grounds of the convent once her dogs were let out. And if happenstance one of her pets bit you on the bum, then you were entirely to blame for having flaunted your bacon!
Sister Joan had absolutely no sense of humour when it came to animals and that’s what made her so delightfully comic and over the top. Many a harried former student of Notre Dame Communication Centre will have a quirky story about Sister Joan and her precious dogs, which, for a time were kennelled just outside our TV studio window!
There are a lot of us folk out there who can tell you that when it came to all God’s creatures, dogs were at the top of her list followed by cattle and pigs and squirrels and birds and she would stand up for them.
Sister Joan had absolutely no sense of humour when it came to animals and that’s what made her so delightfully comic and over the top. Many a harried former student of Notre Dame Communication Centre will have a quirky story about Sister Joan and her precious dogs, which, for a time were kennelled just outside our TV studio window!
There are a lot of us folk out there who can tell you that when it came to all God’s creatures, dogs were at the top of her list followed by cattle and pigs and squirrels and birds and she would stand up for them.
And as for men, they were the one’s that fell from God’s grace. The animals didn't commit original sin. She clearly believed that most men were usually guilty until proved innocent.
And the music!
You may get all mushy over how good she was at music. But let’s get real. Sister Joan was an absolute terror to several youngsters who would practice for the Sunday Mass ... the choir practices. Impatient, impetuous, and imperious, she was as devastating as any diva of the Opera.
And the music!
You may get all mushy over how good she was at music. But let’s get real. Sister Joan was an absolute terror to several youngsters who would practice for the Sunday Mass ... the choir practices. Impatient, impetuous, and imperious, she was as devastating as any diva of the Opera.
But oh, how sweet it was on the rare occasions when one of the harried choristers received a smidgen of praise or a smile for finally hitting that impossibly high note! And Sister Joan’s smile, when it did make an appearance, was angelic.
Back from having seen her laid to rest, one gets the feeling that good sister Joan is probably comparing notes with my patron saint, Francis of Assisi, another songster and animal lover. I’m sure the two of them getting along like a house on fire.
Back from having seen her laid to rest, one gets the feeling that good sister Joan is probably comparing notes with my patron saint, Francis of Assisi, another songster and animal lover. I’m sure the two of them getting along like a house on fire.
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