I remember choosing to attend Mount Mercy College when I was a senior in high school. I really wanted to go to Luther College, but Mount Mercy was a local school, and I could commute. This enabled me to not only save money, but also to help take care of my mother who was an invalid. I decided to attend Mount Mercy College, a catholic school which is now a university, located on a hill in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

I distinctly remember the campus tour I took long ago. One of the features was an underground tunnel that would connect a few campus buildings. I thought this was a marvelous invention to avoid the bitter cold during winter. As a child I attended a Lutheran church; I was completely ignorant about catholic rituals, etc. I’ll never forget as a freshman seeing a throng of students exiting Warde Hall on Ash Wednesday. I had never seen people with ashes placed on their foreheads.

Prior to attending classes, I believed the sisters would be absolutely angelic. Boy, did I gain a new perspective. One of the sisters, who kept her hair a fiery red, enjoyed gambling. The science instructor, reputed as a brilliant scientist, would turn her back to the class and write furiously across a chalk board never pausing as she shared her lecture in script. Once, I was trying to capture something she said, so I raised my hand and said, “Wait! Wait!” I was on the far side of the classroom, and I remember feeling like the entire class of students turned and stared at me, but she just kept going. Of course, there were fun-loving and generous sisters, but I had to wake up to the fact that no matter what someone does for a career that does not make them a perfect human being.

I also clearly remember trying to find a parking space one night to attend a class at Warde Hall. There was a parking lot quite a distance from the building, but it was cold, and I saw a private spot for the priest, and I decided it wouldn’t hurt to park there. Unfortunately, he returned before I moved my car. He was drunk and livid. I got an earful, although he did apologize later. Could be he was worried that I might share the incident with someone else, but reporting some difficult exchange where I was actually in the wrong, is not something I would ever consider doing, back then or today.

Anyway, I saw a writing prompt today that asked the writers to share a poem about misjudging others, and I thought of all the things I have misjudged. Several people from a church I attended and that I had placed on a pedestal, haven fallen hard. But, hey, we are human. Church is for sinners, etc.

Although, I may internally be judging someone from time to time, I try to remember that we all make mistakes. We all generally make lots of mistakes, well, at least I do. I believe the only way to grow from these experiences, is to take ownership and to try to grow by changing my behavior or by forgiving myself and by forgiving others. It’s not easy for me to forgive myself, but I keep trying.

Today rather than writing about several things I could write about but that would dredge up uneasy feelings, I decided to write a “safe” little poem this morning. Hope you will enjoy it.

The Sisters of MMC



I thought they’d be angels,

humble, kind,

sensationally sweet,

but to my dismay,

I discovered,

they’re just like you and me.

Barb Edler, January 23, 2024