On December 1 of each year, I begin to write my Christmas cards. On December 1,1998, I paged through my Christmas data book, checking the list of who sent a card the year before. On the last page is the name of the nun who taught me in commercial class.
After graduation I kept in touch with her, and every year I mailed her a card with a ten-dollar bill. Sister Rita had been sent to a home for retired nuns, but I managed to visit her often. Every letter she sent urged me forward in my work. She was my inspiration, and I loved her and looked for her guidance.
Sister Rita came to me in a dream last year to let me know she was going to heaven. It was strange to see her rising up into the heavens on an elevator. Right after the dream, I received a phone call that she had passed away on February 24, 1998.
Now, as I cherished her memory, I felt very sad, wishing I could still mail her a Christmas card or make contact. I was alone when the telephone rang at exactly 8:00 P.M. I answered with a “Hello” and the most beautiful voice responded, “Hello” Immediately I was aware that the voice belonged to someone I loved. The voice was soft and musical and asked, “Lillian?”
“Speaking, “I answered.
“How are you?”
“Fine,” I answered, trying to identify the voice. “What are you doing?”
“Writing Christmas cards,” I said, and following that I asked, “And to whom am I speaking?”
The voice lovingly responded, “This is Sister Rita from the Franciscan Order.”
Now there was a lull-no dial tone, just stone silence, I held the Phone in mid-air for several minutes, stunned. I hung up, shaking in disbelief.
Still in shock, I went to my Christmas data book and marked an X in the space reserved for incoming cards-in the “received” column next to Sister’s name. Yes, Sister sent me a most beautiful greeting with that call. I feel certain that call came from heaven, for I’m sure that is where she is.
Lillian E. Burton
River Grove, Illinois