Sister Omega Aaron Castrejon Litrus art editor I. It was another day at St. Augustine Catholic School. The late October breeze caressed the falling leaves off of their safe hold on the branches and tumbled them gently to the ground to become one with the soil again and again. The sun was past the halfway point in the sky. The playground was empty, for the children were well into their studies. Many feel that winter is the opposite of spring—death, loss of hope. That's one way to look at it. For some, winter is a season to feel hope in anticipation of spring. A time of renewal. A time of rebirth.

Sister Evelyn had her students writing an essay on the family member they admired most and how they could find ways to be better themselves. Sister Martha's students were discussing how they could show respect to God, the Father. Sister Anaya and Sister Consuela were sitting in the teachers' lounge gossiping, trying to make it look like they were not gossiping but instead talking about their students, the upcoming food sale, and of God. Sister Omega, quite an odd yet appropriate name, was having her students draw images of Jesus as he performed miraculous acts. Whatever acts the children drew were their own choice.

"Okay, children, time to present what you have drawn," said Sister Omega, in her soothing, almost angelic voice. The type of voice that could tame even the most frightened or angry individual. It was soft, yet it resonated whenever she opened her lips. Like a strong gust, you couldn't see it, but you could sure feel it.

"Lilly, why don't you show us what you've drawn." Lilly sat all the way in the back, but she was always called on when a discussion or some engaging activity was starting.

He who is last shall be first.

"I...I drew Jesus when he healed...healed a deaf-mute," the girl said with that sort of lingual awkwardness children of her age have when their motor functions are not exactly perfect.

"Very good, Lilly. Jason, go ahead and show us what you drew."

"Well, what I chose to draw was when Jesus healed the paralytic man."

"'Behold, men brought a paralyzed man on a cot, and they sought to bring him in to lay before Jesus. Not finding a way to bring him in because of the multitude, they went up to the housetop, and let him down through the tiles with his cot into the midst before Jesus.' Nicely drawn, Jason. And what books of the Bible did that come from?" Sister Omega asked, with general curiosity to see if the children had not been idle during their studies. Jason looked down in deep thought, trying to remember before he could be corrected.

"Jason?" called out the Sister, still waiting for an answer. He finally answered. "Uh, the books of...the...the...Matthew 9:2, Mark. "Matthew 9:2, Mark 2:3, and Luke 5:18," broke in Sister Omega. Jason nodded with strong agreement as if trying to carve the verses into his forehead. "Hey, sexy girl! Where you been, boo?"

The words rang inside Sister Omega's mind, bouncing off of every neuron and brain cell. The very exclamation startled the Sister. "Yeeeaaaaah, right. You know I missed you. Where the otha hos at?" The Sister, hearing the phone conversation of a man who was somewhere well beyond the school gates as clearly as if she were on the other end, continued listening to her students despite the crude remarks being heard through her telepathy. "Louisa, Louisa," she continued with intense exuberance. "Let us see what you have for us."

"Here's Jesus turning water into wine." The Sister had taken a particular liking to Louisa, for she reminded the Sister of when she was a seven-year-old. "Very lovely, Louisa! Excellent. Eric? Show us which of Jesus' miracles you drew." Little Eric, very awkward and very chubby, stood up and presented the efforts of his labor. "I drew when Jesus walked on water."

"Oooooh, that is a beautiful one. One of my favorites. What does this miracle teach us? That we have the ability to overcome any obstacles that come before us if we do not doubt the Lord's commands."

"I don't think Eric will walk on water any time soon..."

"Manuel!!" cried Sister Omega, hearing the boy very clearly when no one else could. "How dare you!"

The boy cried in protest, "What did I do?!" The Sister replied, "You know exactly what you did." "What did I do, Sister Omega?!" The boy still seemed shocked at Sister Omega's accusation, and perplexed at how she knew what he was thinking.

It was three o'clock, and the children were being let out. Not Manuel, though. Manuel sat very still in the old wooden chair before the Sister's desk. Her room was moderately sized. The dark, drab colors of the walls and furniture only added drama to the situation. Sister Omega sat sternly at her desk. The lingering silence made Manuel only tenser and the Sister seem more mountainous.

"Manuel," said the Sister with a very soft, luscious tone, "I want you to admit what you have done today and we can forget about this. God knows what you did, too, but he is willing to forgive you if you admit what happened."

"But I didn't say anything, Sister Omega," said Manuel. The wrinkles in his brow, his flared nose and the sad expression on his lips gave off a half-sincere, half-worried, half-desperate connotation. There was no going back for him now. "You know exactly what you did, do not lie to me..."

"But I didn't say anything!" Again, the lingering silence made Manuel tense. "Do you know what you did? You committed a mortal sin." Her tone was more serious. "You willfully alluded to Eric not being able to walk on water because he is a little chubby. Manuel, I'm giving you one more chance. Just admit it, and you won't go to hell."

The boy had no choice but to cave in to her sheer presence. The human mind works in strange ways. In situations of extreme trouble, the mind will always run through the dozens and dozens of other times when that person was in trouble. Suddenly, the thoughts of many bad situations are weighing down like 100 pounds of cinderblocks. Once they fall off, a million little indentations are left on the face and the forehead, red and irritating. I'm sorry," said Manuel. "I'm sorry for thinking that about Eric. I'm sorry." Sister Omega was happy that he finally admitted to his sin, though on the outside she bestowed a stern expression on her face. "How did you know?" the boy asked with a frightened curiosity.

"Never you mind."

"But I didn't say it. I thought it..."

"Just never mind. You'll be surprised what I know."

She was surprised, too, at what she knew. Eric's father was not the best. He would drink, and engage in terrible arguments with his mom almost all the time. The torture it must cause such a fragile, young mind. How he could afford his school uniforms despite his parents making a living from selling fruit on the street could only be described as a miracle. Sister Omega could not bear to frighten the boy any longer with damnation.

"You just go on. God has forgiven you." The boy left so fast, his chair practically spun.

I tell you, there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.
— Luke 15:10.

The Sister sat in her chair in the teachers' lounge, stirring her chamomile tea with anticipated enjoyment. Sister Anaya and Sister Consuela sat where they always sat, one in front of the other, perched as if they were playing some invisible game of chess. With Sister Omega present, they could not talk of secretive, and sinful, things and switched to the impending food sale. "Consuela, do you think we have enough jars to finish with the honey?" questioned Sister Anaya with her gruff voice. She sounded as if she had smoked for a long while. She may have.

"I ordered more jars two weeks ago and they still have not arrived," retorted Sister Consuela. "I don't see why they have not arrived. May God punish the delinquency of the delivery company." Sister Omega knew full well that Sister Consuela had not put in the order for more jars. No one else knew that. Except for Consuela. Sister Omega sat there with a look of disappointment on her face and wondered that such a liar could represent the word of God. Then she pulled herself back from the edge of hatred and, under her breath, recited, "The best remedy I know against sudden fits of impatience is a silence that is gentle and without malice. However little one says, pride always comes into it, and one says things that plunge the heart into grief for a whole day after. When one is silent and smiles in a friendly manner, the storm passes over; one smothers one's temper and indiscretion, and so enjoys pure and lasting happiness."

"I think we have enough jars to get us through the next few weeks, don't worry," said Sister Anaya.

Sister Omega then concentrated on Sister Anaya's face, searching for her thoughts.

"We don't even get that much business anyway. The foolish dumbbells can't tell good food from a dead animal lying in the road." Regardless of her beliefs, all the years she spent in Catholic school, all the years she spent in isolation in a convent and at St. Augustine Catholic School, Sister Omega could not help but think of how much she despised Sister Anaya. This is one of the few times Sister Omega ever felt hatred, and it was only for Sister Anaya. There are two distinct forms of hatred: odium abominationis, or loathing. That is when certain qualities and characteristics of an individual are the main focus of loathing. Then there is odium inimicitiae, or hostility. The ability to see into a person and find what is evil in them and revel in that person's shortcomings and misadventures. Sister Omega felt odium abominationis. She could never find pleasure in someone's demise. Not for any reason. The Sister loathed Anaya's comments, yet she pitied her.

"I think the food sale will be just as much of a success as last year's," said Sister Omega. "We always do well, by the grace of God."

"That is very true," agreed Sister Anaya. "God can be merciful at times."

The sun cast an intense orange glow against the blinds, and the room was filled with nature's life. Suddenly, the comments of Sister Anaya and Sister Consuela did not matter anymore as the invading light penetrated Sister Omega's eyes, zapped through her brain and filled her soul with pure tranquility. She was one with God. She then calmly stood up, bid adieu to the Sisters and left the teacher's lounge. As she walked through the hallway she could hear the chattering of the gossiping Sisters, committing sin ad infinitum.

The next day was a chilly, yet sunny. The wind picked up a little bit more and old, dead leaves were strewn across the blacktop. It was 10 a.m. and the children were outside playing. Sister Omega was just one of the nuns out observing the children. The day brought a calm, cool and easygoing sensation to everyone. It's the type of feeling people get when the holidays are just around the corner, a time of togetherness and worship. But there was something else that Sister Omega felt. Something odd. A feeling of an approaching danger. Some call feelings such as these premonitions. For the most part, people rarely experience premonitions. Sister Omega could sense them all the time. She had some trouble zeroing in on exactly whom these thoughts were coming from, though she suspected they might be coming from a higher source.

"Tell me, where is the money going to come from?!" the Sister surmised that the voices came from somewhere far. Think of it as listening to a radio: When one is close to a signal, the reception is very clear. When a signal is far, a static-laden reception occurs. "You need to shut the hell up, that's what you need to do," said the mysterious voice. "Just come up with an alibi, will you? Can you just do that?!" Sister Omega continued to watch the playing children.

She had her eye on two boys’ in particular. They were engaged in a mock gunfight. Pow! Pow! Pow! Bang! Bang! Bang! The boys’ hands formed the shape of pistols, their bodies arching at the trauma of the mock gun wounds. The sheer violence these boys displayed. It was a masquerade of animal bloodlust.

"I don't think so!" yelled Sister Omega at the boys. "No, no, no. Don't do that unless you want to be reported to the head mistress and get detention." The boys quickly stopped their mock gunfight and ran to a group of kids playing tetherball.

The Sister saw a group of her students playing kickball and went over to observe them. She couldn't help but look at these children and feel sorrow for them. These innocent lives were brought into a world filled danger, evil and overindulgence. A world full of sin. A world where many families were broken and void of love. She couldn't tell how many of these children would grow up to be wonderful individuals. She did, however, have faith in God and was sure he would protect these children regardless of what evil prevailed in this world. As she walked to them, she recited the prayer, "An Act of Faith." "And what are we up to, children?" asked the Sister with a gracious smile and love in her voice.

"We're playing kickball, Sister Omega," said one of the children.

"Sister, Jason cheated. He should have been out when I tagged him but he won't go back to his seat," complained Louisa.

"Louisa. No tattling," said the Sister with a stern look on her face. "You know better then that."

Suddenly, the gasps of about twenty children filled the air. The playground went silent. Sister Omega swung around to find Jason lying on the blacktop trying to hold his leg, which was broken. Everything happened in slow motion. The initial break was not felt at first and the fall dazed his young mind. The look on his face was unmistakably sheer fright. Sister Omega scanned the boy up and down, up and down, down and up, trying to assess what exactly to do. Then Jason started to cry. The tears fell down his face in hot, little rivulets. The dust was captured in the tears and formed smudges on his rosy cheeks.

Some of the girls started crying, too. The boys just stood there in shock. Unmoving, like mannequins.

The Sister walked briskly over to Jason and knelt down. With passion in her voice and intensity in her eyes, she spoke to Jason. "Be not afraid." She gently touched the boy's leg with both hands. She closed her eyes and concentrated. The boy lay there, still shocked and in much pain. He then felt an unutterable sensation in his leg. He felt an immediate heat. A soothing heat. His leg felt as if it were swelling, swelling with...well, he did not know. He calmed down instantly as the pain disappeared. He looked at Sister Omega, and she appeared almost asleep. A deep, tranquil sleep. Her hands, so soft and gentle, moved as if she were actually realigning the broken tibia. The boy's leg then did start to swell. The Sister's eyes opened gently. She released her gentle grip from the boy's leg and the healing was complete. The children stood around the Sister and Jason, not knowing what had transpired. Only the boy and Sister Omega knew what had happened. She picked up the boy, even though he was fully capable of walking under his own power, and walked him over to the front office. As they both journeyed together, the boy thought to himself, " Matthew 9:2, Mark 2:3, Luke 5:18."

I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?” The Lord replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”
—Mary Stevenson

Sister Omega sat on the edge of her bed that night and peered out through the window in deep thought. She was conflicted as to whether she should use her abilities to help mankind or refrain from using them. Perhaps, she thought, God gave her gifts to see if she could refrain from interfering with his will. Would she be punished if she used her gifts to undo God's actions, or even prevent them? She worried more about upsetting God than about helping him.

After a few prayers, she lay down on her bed and drifted off into a deep sleep. 8 a.m. The rickety old bell had just stopped ringing and the kids were still filing in to class.

"Good morning, children," said the Sister with a wonderful exuberance.

"Good morning, Sister Omega!" her children responded.

"Let us begin with the Pledge of Allegiance." The children slowly stood up, covered their hearts with their right hands and followed along with the Sister. "I pledge allegiance to the flag..."

The Sister quickly silenced herself when she heard voices once again ringing through her mind. "No. No! No!"

"...and to the republic for which it stands..."

"Point the gun away!!!! Please! I don't want to die..."

"...under God, indivisible..."

"Don't shoot me!"

"With liberty and justice for all." The Sister just stood there looking out the window, frozen. Her students also stood there, waiting for her to seat them. The Sister still did not move, so the children slowly seated themselves. The Sister then proceeded to sit down, extremely slowly, as if time itself moved slower for her, as if she were slowly dying, or as if she witnessed someone else dying. The rest of the day, she solemnly went about her teachings, and her students noticed the difference in her delivery. Sister Omega could not help but think of those voices all day long. They haunted her. She thought to herself, "Why was I allowed to hear that? If I could not help to save a soul, why did I bear witness to such an atrocity?" She walked down the main hallway, and the noon sun seemed to hover right over the roof of the hall and illuminate everything except the path she walked.

She was in deep prayer before a statue of the Crucifixion of Christ. She prayed that in time, she would be able to learn of why she could do what she did. Only a matter of time. II. The florescent lights and white walls of the doctor's office gave an illusion of emptiness. A void. Sister Omega looked around the room as she got dressed and observed all the objects it contained. Cabinets, shelves, jars, instruments. The room was very quiet, save for the slight buzzing of the lighting and the sounds of voices coming from the front office. The Sister didn't want to use her telepathy to listen to what the people were saying outside. Nor did she want to hear the thoughts of her doctor. She was too busy thinking about the results of her physical examination. In all actuality, she didn't want to hear the results. Even someone as close to God as she is could feel fearful or worrisome. She had certain symptoms that caused her some alarm. Symptoms she had never felt before.

"What I may suggest is to set up an appointment to see an oncologist and have a mammogram performed as soon as you can," the doctor said in a calm but authoritative manner. "There's nothing to be alarmed about. This is just procedural, but we should rule nothing out."

"I suppose every woman, and man, too, must come to worry over this at some point in their lives," Sister Omega commented. "I'm just worried about my students."

"Well, all I can say right now is be positive. If there is anything wrong, you'll have some of the best medical help." "Just don't forget that God is here to help us, too," said the Sister. "Of course," said the doctor. As she walked down the hallway to leave the doctor's office, she came upon many people waiting to be helped. There was an elderly man and his wife. The man seemed quite healthy, probably here for his usual checkup. There was a baby and her mother and father. Both parents looked to be in their early twenties. Then the Sister came upon a middle-aged woman. She looked quite weathered. She had graying and curly hair, tan and wrinkled skin; she was dressed in a green knit sweater and gray pants and wore gauze over her left eye. She looked very tired and lonely.

"Good evening, Sister," said the woman with the gauze patch.

"Good evening to you, too," replied the Sister. "You look very familiar, my dear, have we met somewhere before?"

"Of course we have. My daughter attends St. Augustine school."

The Sister was quite surprised at how she could not have remembered the woman with the gauze patch. The school consisted of only 100 or so students, and Sister Omega knew almost every child there. "I just haven't been around to pick up my daughter because I've been in the hospital for my eye. I injured it at my work. I can't see out of it and there is still a chance I could lose it."

"My dear, I am so sorry to hear that," said the Sister with undeniable sincerity. "I will pray for your recovery."

"That means so much to me, Sister," replied the woman with the gauze patch. "Having to get along without depth perception and paying for the medical treatments is the hardest. I would just love to see again." The Sister thought for a minute. She then knelt down to be at eye level with the woman.

"Whatever happens, God is always on your side," reassured Sister Omega. She then, with the most gentle, warm caress, touched the woman's gauze patch. The Sister then arose and left the office.

"Joanne Morley?" called a nurse, waiting for the next patient to be examined. The woman with the gauze patch got up and entered the doctor's office.

"Good evening, Mrs. Morley, how are you feeling?" asked the doctor in a monotone expression as if he were moving patients in and out on an assembly line as quick as lightning. "To tell the truth, I was feeling a little discomfort until now," said Mrs. Morley with shock in her scratchy voice.

"What do you mean?" asked the doctor with slight curiosity.

"Well, my eye feels fine right now. I had a slight shooting pain a few minutes ago. Now it's gone."

"Hmmm. Well, let's get that patch off and see how your eye is doing."

With gentle peeling, the gauze came off. The skin around Mrs. Morley's eye was very red looking and irritated. Okay," proceeded the doctor, "I want you to open your eye very gently for me."

Mrs. Morley did as the doctor instructed. She saw nothing but black. Then she saw a red fuzziness. The red fuzziness changed into very blurred objects. She then saw an image of her thirty-something doctor looking intensely into her eyes. "I can see...I can see!!! I can see out of my eye!"

"You can see out of your eye?!" said the doctor with a bewildered look on his face. "Are you positive?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh, it's a miracle!!" The utter joy that pulsed through her body. Like feeling a lifelong love come to fruition, a project forged from blood, sweat and tears, finally succeed.

It happened, as he came near Jericho, a certain blind man sat by the road, begging... He cried out, "Jesus, you son of David, have mercy on me..." Standing still, Jesus commanded him to be brought to him. When he had come near, he asked him, "What do you want me to do?" He said, "Lord, that I may see again." Jesus said to him, "Receive your sight. Your faith has healed you." Immediately he received his sight, and followed him, glorifying God.
— Luke 18:35-43

Several weeks passed by until the Sister was able to see an oncologist. She had done much praying in those long days. She had worried and worried and worried. Sister Omega had also alerted the Mother Superior of St. Augustine School about her situation. It is not usual for a nun to leave a convent or even a school, unless they have received permission beforehand. Potentially having cancer is definitely a good reason. Sister Omega was unfamiliar with having so much attention focused on her. Especially her body. The cold, lifeless machines were whirring and buzzing. Some lit up, some scanned her. She felt like aliens were probing her.

She received a phone call sometime after her mammogram. Sister Omega received a call from her oncologist asking to see her about the results. The Sister grew anxious. She arranged for an appointment. The weeks that passed by after her examination were the same as before. Sister Anaya and Sister Consuela were engaged in their usual gossip, the kids were as rambunctious and inquisitive as ever. All Sister Omega could think about were her students. The bright, happy faces, the questions they asked. The questions. The questions she pondered. Questions such as, "What does God look like?" and "Why do bad things happen to good people?" Even questions like "Why do people from different religions fight all the time?" and "If one of Moses' Ten Commandments is 'Thou shalt not kill,' then why do we go to war?"

She knew she was there to not only answer the questions, but to make sure that when they matured, their actions would never provoke such questions in the future generations. Sure, there are other nuns who could perform the same duties for other children, but Sister Omega wanted to be able to save the children herself. It may sound selfish, but she wanted to be able to continue to serve God while on Earth. Perhaps she was afraid of death. She thought about that for a minute and then thought to herself, "That is crazy. I cannot be afraid of death!"

She then reflected on Pope John Paul II and the moments before he died. He was not afraid. He did not regret anything, he did not complain. He lived a life of suffering and prayer. Sister Omega immediately felt a renewed sense of faith. She could not know what lay ahead. She did not want to read the doctor’s mind; if she read something that would shock her, she would not be able to explain the look on her face when she came in. Not even she could read God's mind. Her weak, human body could not comprehend his plane of existence.

The doctor came in to the room. Judgment Day.

"Hello, Sister," said the doctor. Her name is Dr. Sally Florenstein. She was a much more compassionate doctor then the previous one. "Hello, doctor. How are you today?" Sister Omega asked with her tone of utmost sincerity.

"Well, I have your results."

The doctor sat down and thought for a minute.

"It's malignant. You have ductal carcinoma. It's named that because it confines itself to the ducts within the breasts. Your first mammogram revealed the cancer as microcalcifications. We should..."

"Will it spread to any other area of the body?" The Sister asked trying to now, for the first time in her life, falsify her calm, sincere nature.

"You are in luck. You have ductal carcinoma in situ, meaning it has not spread anywhere past the site of development. It was detected very early, so you have an excellent chance of survival. Most often the five-year survival rate is a hundred percent"

Sister Omega thought to herself for a minute.

"I need to ponder this. I need to ponder this for a little."

"But we should start treatment right away," the doctor said with some dismay. "We cannot let it progress..." "I know. I just need to ponder this."

The doctor was genuinely puzzled. "I...am just going to go ahead and book treatment as soon as I can." The Sister left the office and stood by the front door. She looked towards the sky with some tears in her eyes. They felt like calderas, hot pools of magma waiting to overflow. The afternoon sky began to turn orange as the sun was starting to fall below the horizon. A few clouds clung to the atmosphere. They were brightly colored with hues of orange and pink. They were vibrant, almost as if they were creating the light themselves. A gentle breeze caressed her face. It felt like a pair of hands gently touching her, calming her. Loving her. She restrained herself from crying and proceeded back to St. Augustine's.

Sister Omega sat on the edge of her bed and gazed through her curtains at the moonlight. She remembered Jason and how she healed his leg. She remembered the poor woman in the doctor's office and how she healed her eye. Sister Omega also remembered those she healed in the past: her sick sister, the Mother Superior. Even a stray dog the children had found near a storage shed at school. The Sister felt a great swelling of joy. She felt confidant in what she was about to do. She counted that the Lord would provide. She proceeded to lift up her blouse and gently touch her breast. Then she appeared to be in a deep, tranquil sleep.

"It was amazing what fools they were," proclaimed Sister Consuela. "How they could just allow her to die in such a manner? One quarter of the U.S. is Catholic and Pope John Paul clearly stated that it is wrong to remove the feeding tube from a sick person."

The Sister talked on and on during lunch. Sister Anaya had not yet come in, so Sister Omega had to engage Sister Consuela in conversation. Even though she did not like how Sisters Consuela and Anaya gossiped constantly, she did not hate them. Well, at least not Consuela.

"I agree," said Sister Omega. "But is it wrong to save a soul from a horrific and slow death?"

"It is not our will, Sister! It is God's will to take back that soul if he deems necessary." Sister Omega thought about when she healed her sister, Rosemary. Rosemary was very ill with pneumonia and was getting worse as the weeks went by. It was so bad that she was being given her last rites until Sister Omega could not bear to see her sister in such pain. She healed Rosemary right there in the hospital in front of the doctors, the priest and the family. Of course, they did not know what Sister Omega was doing, but the doctors considered Rosemary's recovery astounding.

"Is it also wrong to save a life, though?" asked Sister Omega. "If it is wrong to take a life, shouldn't it be wrong to save a life? Aren't we also disturbing God's will?"

"It is what is expected of us. To help one another," cried Sister Consuela. If it is time for someone to go, it is time for them to go."

Suddenly, Sister Omega felt a very strong connection to Sister Consuela. Her feelings of disdain for the Sister vanished. Sister Omega felt salvation, finally towards her chatty counterpart. Then, Sister Anaya came in. "Mother of God, I have had my patience tried so many times with that boy," complained Sister Anaya. "No matter how many times you tell him to do something, he just will not listen."

"What happened now," asked Sister Consuela with a very curious tone.

"Patrick. He will never do his schoolwork. I have asked his parents to help him so many times, it's as if they are just saying they will help so I will leave them alone. And he refuses to listen during my lessons, so I finally had to punish him."

Sister Omega turned her head so slowly towards Sister Anaya, it seemed as if it took 20 years for her burning eyes to meet the complaining Sister. "What did you say you did?" asked Sister Omega.

"I punished him. I smacked his knuckles with the yard stick."

Sister Omega had such a look of frustration on her face she startled the other two Sisters.

"How dare you!" yelled Sister Omega. How dare you harm that innocent little boy!"

"You are overreacting, Sister Omega," stressed sister Anaya. "Do not yell."

"I am sorry. Forgive me Lord, for I am sorry. And to you, too Sister Consuela. But how dare you hurt that boy Sister Anaya! He is sick. Do you not understand?"

"How do you know he is sick?"

"Just never you mind! You'll be surprised what I know. He has attention deficit disorder. He cannot help it if he has trouble paying attention. From now on, you must take extra special care of that boy. And do not take out your frustration out on anyone simply because you have a feeble understanding of the people around you. How I pity you. When you meet God one day, you will have a lot of explaining to do!"

Sister Consuela was absolutely shocked. She knew that she was guilty of some of the sins of Sister Anaya. Sister Omega left the teacher's lounge in a rush. She immediately began to pray The Act of Contrition. She had a lot on her mind. Especially her next doctors visit. "Sister? Sister?"

Sister Omega looked up at the beautiful nurse calling her name. She did not respond so quickly, for she had been pondering the previous day's argument.

"Dr. Lawrence will see you now."

The Sister walked into the doctor's office to await news on the results of her second mammogram.

The office was very white. Much sunlight broke its way through the blinds. The Sister looked around and observed the interesting objects that decorated the walls and shelves. She noticed a picture of Dr. Lawrence and his family. He had a wife, two sons and a daughter. The picture was taken at a lake. It was very peaceful looking. They seemed very happy, immortalized for generations. The Sister sometimes felt a slight yearning to raise a family. "Hello, Sister," said the doctor as he made a sudden entrance to the room. "I have the results of your second test."

She waited with sense of accomplishment.

"It still shows positive. No change has occurred since your last mammogram. But don't lose hope. A month from now is when we will begin the Breast conserving treatment for the cancer. It's a simple lumpectomy. After that we will begin radiation therapy. We were able to detect it in its very early stages, so your prognosis is still very good."

Sister Omega just sat there stunned. She thought to herself, "How could this be?! I healed it. I healed. I know I did."

She could not help but feel a sense of true mortality. She felt the fear of death, even though there was no reason for her to. She thought to herself that God was calling her home. God, the beginning of everything; the Alpha.

God, the Sister thought, was calling her home. It was the end. The Omega.

The Sister watched her children play during recess the following day. She watched every single one of them with intensity, thinking about their lives and the values she taught them and if they would heed her words and the word of God as they matured. She knelt down beside Jason, who had returned to school. He looked into her eyes with sincere thankfulness and loyalty. He knew what she did for him that one day, and he would never forget. She was forever a part of him. He turned around and hugged her. A great big hug. She could not help but embrace the little boy as if he were her own. Her son. Her wonderful, little son.

Sister Omega had to tell the children that she would be gone for many months. She did not quite know how they would take the news.

"Children: I have something very serious to tell you. I will not be here for many months. I am sick and need treatment."

The children were stunned. They felt as if a part of them was going away. They were right.

"I have cancer. It has not developed too far, so I have an excellent chance to overcome this. The Lord is testing us right now. I ask you to be strong and pray for me, as I ask the Lord to watch over me and give thanks for what wonderful things he has given us. I will miss you all."

As the children began to file out of class, one by one, they went up to the Sister and hugged her. Some of the children cried, but remembered what Sister Omega asked of them. It pained her to leave her family, but she had to. She spoke to the Mother Superior to approve her dismissal from teaching so she can begin receiving treatment.

"The Bishop grants his full authority to let you receive treatment for your cancer. Do not fear. We will take care of your children for you. May God be with you always, Sister."

"Thank you Mother Superior," said Sister Omega with utmost compassion and love.

Before Sister went in for her surgery, she recited one final prayer:

" Loving Father, I entrust myself to your care this day; guide with wisdom and skill the minds and hands of the medical people who minister in your Name, and grant that every cause of illness be removed, I may be restored to soundness of health and learn to live in more perfect harmony with you and with those around me. Through Jesus Christ. Amen." November and December came and went. Winter died out and gave birth to spring in all its wondrous warmth and life. The leaves began to turn green again; the metamorphosis was in full flux. Sister Omega's surgery was a veritable success. The hardest aspect of this time was enduring the radiation therapy. The bombardment of the high-energy gamma rays bouncing off every cell in her body weakened her body very much. She became very frustrated by the fact that her body had betrayed her, yet she knew that her months of enduring such adversity would pay off, for she would see her children again. The one fact of this episode that the Sister just could not get used to was the loss of her hair. She observed her head on a daily basis. She looked at the smooth curve of cranium. She felt like an alien. All the Sister could do was continue to rest and pray for a speedy recovery.

It wasn't until April when the Sister could return to St. Augustine's. Everyone was excited to see the return of Sister Omega. The Mother Superior greeted her very warmly.

"My Sister, welcome back. The Lord has blessed you with his grace. It really is wonderful to see you again."

The Mother Superior approached Sister Omega to hug her, but the Sister retreated.

"I'm sorry, Mother Superior," said the Sister. "You should not touch me. I am still receiving radiation therapy. It will harm you."

"I understand," replied the Mother Superior. "Well, well. It is good to have you back," called out Sister Consuela as she came in to the office. "It has been too long. The children have missed you so much. All the children. I certainly have missed you, too," she said.

"I cannot wait to see them all," said Sister Omega very anxiously.

"Welcome back, Sister." A familiar voice came from behind Sister Omega. She turned around and there stood Sister Anaya. She had a very pleasant look on her face. Very genuine.

"I can truly say that I have missed you," said Sister Anaya. "You are a beacon and an asset to this institution."

Sister Omega read her mind, and she felt, at long last, some salvation. She no longer hated Sister Anaya, for she had done much soul searching in the six months Sister Omega had been absent. She had truly changed.

Sister Omega's class waited for her to enter the class. The room was decorated with balloons, and banners created by the children. The Mother Superior entered the room.

"Children," she said, "guess who has come to see you." Sister Omega entered and her children stood up and clapped for her. They all tried to walk up to hug her, but she had to refuse.

"No children. You shouldn't touch me. I am still being treated One day, though, you may touch me again." She scanned all their faces. Every single one of them. She saw the bright, round, happy faces of her children. Her sons and daughters. She was back home with her family.

She struggled to speak as she became overwhelmed with tears, for she was unable to touch her children. She yearned to feel their softness, their warmth, and their love. They were hers and she was theirs. Nothing would take that away.

"I have missed you all very much. It has been a truly trying time for me, as well as all of you. God has blessed all of us, and we must continue to pray and be faithful. I will come to visit you every day during lunch and recess. Once I have fully recovered, I will be back teaching."

The Sister stayed for the rest of the class period to listen to the children's stories of what they learned and what they did when they were not in class. After a while, it seemed as if she had not been gone at all. As she left, she walked down the main hallway. She came upon the statue of the Crucifixion of Christ. After she finished her prayers, she proceeded to enter her room. She sat down at the edge of her bed and looked out the open window towards the 5 p.m. sun. The orange light cast a vibrant beam into her room illuminating everything there. A gentle warm breeze blew into the room and caressed the Sister's upper body. She gently closed her eyes and imagined she was holding her children. She then imagined she was with them all, posing for a picture. They were at a lake. It was very peaceful looking. They seemed very happy, immortalized for generations.