There are generations of Catholics whose youthful angst was shaped by the rules and rulers of “the nuns.” They were an assortment like no other, deep mysteries wrapped in robes and beads. With anonymity even to the extent of taking on male saint names, it was impossible to know if they were actually born much less ever children themselves.
With that much mystery, every word floating from the ethereal space of their veils was taken as truth. When there is more mystery than your imagination can handle, the line between fiction and non-fiction mainly disappears.
I’d like to see more religions bring back nuns. They don’t need Facebook pages but can bring to children the sense of mystery that makes you at least consider dare to be one of the virtues.
