Recent sightings
[10/24/98] Anonymous Sister :: "the singing nun"
At 3:15 AM I walked to the chapel to pray. The candle was already lit.
A woman in a veil was on the altar, singing the Salve Regina. She turned. She had
no mouth. The veil was not made of cloth. It was her skin. The singing continued. I left. I have not prayed since.
[10/02/98] exstudent88 :: "Room 7, bed three"
I was a student 1985-89. I slept in Room 7. The third bed was made every morning.
We never made it. It was warm to the touch, every morning, even in January. Once, I lifted the pillow.
Underneath was a small wooden hand. It was still growing. I never lifted the pillow again.
[09/19/98] pilgrim44 :: "the cellar wax"
On a parish tour, the Mother Superior pointed at the cellar door and said: "That is a storage room."
I leaned close. From the back of the door I could hear breathing — slow, patient, breathing my name.
The wax seal had a small hole in it. Through the hole I saw an eye. It was blue. It blinked at me. 🕯️
[08/30/98] MaryM :: "the rose"
My daughter attended St. Agnes 1992-95. She transferred (so they said). I still have her lapel rose.
It has not wilted. It drips. The liquid tastes of iron. The thorns curl when held. I have thrown it away
three times. It comes back. It is in my kitchen drawer now. I am moving. 🌹
[07/14/98] confession :: "I broke the wax"
I confess: in October 1994 I broke the wax seal on the cellar door as a prank.
I descended six steps. The steps were warm. The air smelled of incense and wet stone.
At the bottom, a long hallway, and at the end, a single chair facing the wall.
A woman was sitting in it. Her veil was turned backwards. She began to stand.
I don't remember climbing back up. I woke up in my bed. The wax was repaired. It was thicker this time. 🕯️
[06/20/98] sister_colette :: "Sister Agatha's confession"
I am old. I will die soon. I must write it: Sister Agatha did not die of consumption.
She was made into the guardian. The Bishop buried her alive with her veil across her eyes
(so she would see nothing but dark: so the dark would become her).
The roses grow where she breathes. She breathes through the roots. Listen. The roses are humming. 🌹
Submit your own sighting
Got one? Sign the guestbook — tag your message "SIGHTING" and I'll add it here.
Please include dates and locations. Anything without a location gets thrown to the cellar. (Joking. Mostly. 😇)