The Night We Met Read Online Free Page B

there be some talent that's more personal y my own?"
    "I don't know." His gaze was steady. Sincere. "What I can tell you, what I've learned, is that the more rules you place on whatever you're looking for, the less likely you are to find it."
    He'd given me something else to think about.
    "Like if someone spent his whole life searching for some grand purpose, he'd miss the fact that he was a great gardener and that his flowers brought comfort to hundreds of people."
    "Or the proverbial janitor whose smile touched hundreds of kids over the years..."
    His words faded and we smiled at each other. An easy, comfortable communication between like spirits. I was glad I'd met him.
    "You're sure you won't be in trouble for spending so much time with me?"
    We were heading in the general direction of the convent. It was almost completely dark and I hugged my navy cardigan more closely around my body.

    "While I'm living in the dormitory, I pretty much come and go as I please," I told him. "Other than curfew, and a few rules like no food in the rooms and no male visitors, I don't have restrictions."
    "Why no food?"
    "The sisters are notoriously clean." A trait I shared with them.
    "No male visitors—has it been that way for all your college years?"
    "There've only been two and a half of them." I was feeling a little nervous about getting back, missing my Sunday-evening time with the other postulants-to-be. And yet, I hated to see the end of these hours with my in-between friend. "I took col ege classes while I was still in high school. But yes, it's been that way the whole time."
    "Did you date in high school?"
    "A little. Not much. Boys bored me."
    Except for him. But then Nate was a man—fourteen years my senior. There was nothing boyish about him.
    And it was fully dark outside. Would the sisters be hugely disappointed in me if they could see me now?
    "When did you know you wanted to be a nun?"
    "I've felt drawn to the convent my entire life. I went to Catholic schools and have been visiting St.
    Catherine's since I was in high school. Joining the order was a natural progression. But because it's a teaching order, I needed to get my degree."
    "So you won't always be living as secluded a life as you will for the next few years?"
    I could see the corner far ahead where I'd turn to go home and started to relax again. I was almost there.
    "Seclusion ends when I take my vows." It felt as good tonight to be talking to him about what was to come as it had the night before. "The point of being a postulant and then a novice is to leave the world behind so I can fol y concentrate on my spiritual life. I'll develop self-discipline and spend a lot of time in contemplation of God and the vows I mean to take. I won't associate with many people, except for others in my position."
    "Not even the nuns?"
    "Except for those who oversee us, no."
    We were only a block away from saying goodbye forever.
    "Can people come and visit you?"
    "One Sunday a month and only immediate family."

    "What about letters?"
    "I'l be permitted to write one a week to my parents, but it'll be read by the sisters and any letters my family sends wil also be read."
    He didn't say anything and I was afraid. It was important to me that he understand, that he not judge my choice too harshly. Though why his opinion mattered I didn't know.
    "I won't be a prisoner, Nate," I told him. "The rules aren't there to confine me, but to protect me from the world so I can prepare myself for the life I've chosen. Or—perhaps—to figure out that this isn't for me. The sisters work very hard to help us clear the voices from our minds so we might hear the inner guide inside us."
    "Would that everyone had that chance." His softly spoken words quieted my heart.
    "Would you hate me if I told you I wish I'd met you in another time and place?"
    I'd entered the grounds—closed the heavy iron gate behind me. The drive, which had been lined with cars earlier that day, was now deserted. Silent. Dimly