After the ordination

My dress forever reminds me of the ordination. After that ordination, there were temptation, death of vocation and criminal activities.

My dress forever reminds me of the ordination. After that ordination, there were temptation, death of vocation and criminal activities.

Comments about this post on ABC Open 500 words – What I was wearing.

While de-cluttering my wardrobe, I came across a Vinnie’s dress I worn long ago. It was given to me early on in our relationship, when Sister Night was grooming me to become her ‘daughter’.

It was a long, white, knitted Spring dress with a drawstring waist. Vertical pink lines ran down the left top portion, and a pink branch of flowers on the right one. The dress brought back the memories of that long trip during a late 80s Summer.

Brother Shorty and Sister Night took turn to drive one car while Sister Cheese drove by herself in another; four Vietnamese refugee girls in my house, another Vietnamese refugee girl that Father Fatty sent and I all headed to Brisbane from Melbourne for the ordination of Brother Hippie. But wait there’s more!

After the ordination poem

image

(Quatern-style poem)

<<Story related to the poem>>

When sin visits the man of God,
Layman disguise would get a nod,
Whether it’s during day or night,
Whether it’s in or out of sight,

In places that ain’t thought as odd,
When sin visits the man of God,
He blithely leads a double life,
In it, criminal acts are rife. But wait there’s more!

The convent

Things may have turned out differently had I was given my own safe space when I arrived in Australia as a refugee.

Things may have turned out differently had I was given my own safe space when I arrived in Australia as a refugee.

Comments about this post on ABC Open DRUM – Living alone.

April 1984, I arrived in Australia and stayed at Enterprise Hostel, Springvale in Melbourne. A week later, a religious Sister took me home to a six-bedroom Burwood parish house that accommodated thirteen Catholic Vietnamese refugees and me – a Buddhist. But wait there’s more!

How I met her

I was a Catholic convert and she was my godmother. But her behaviour became that of a parent jealous of losing a child's love.

I was a Catholic convert and she was my godmother. But her behaviour became that of a parent jealous of losing a child’s love.

Comments about this post on ABC Open 500 words – How we met.

April 1984, I arrived in Australia and stayed at Enterprise Hostel, Springvale in Melbourne. A week later, a religious Sister took me home – a six-bedroom Burwood-parish house that accommodated thirteen Catholic Vietnamese refugees and me – a Buddhist. But wait there’s more!