\u2026\u201cWhen morning came\u2026 he asked me what I was\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
The nun clutched her chest and whispered,<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026and I didn\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sister Agnes blinked.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2026 didn\u2019t know?\u201d<\/p>\n
The nun\u2014Sister Maria\u2014shook beneath her blanket.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn the dream,\u201d she said, \u201cI was married to a kind man. We lived in a small house near the sea. We laughed. We shared supper. I remember feeling\u2026 happy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Agnes smiled gently.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat doesn\u2019t sound frightening.\u201d<\/p>\n
Maria swallowed.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt wasn\u2019t\u2026 until morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
She stared at the chapel window where pale sunlight crept through stained glass.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe woke beside me and asked, \u2018Who are you?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
Agnes frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n
Maria\u2019s voice trembled.<\/p>\n
\u201cI opened my mouth\u2026 and realized I had no answer.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room fell silent.<\/p>\n
For thirty years, Sister Maria had lived inside the convent walls.<\/p>\n
She had entered at nineteen.<\/p>\n
Faithful.<\/p>\n
Disciplined.<\/p>\n
Devoted.<\/p>\n
Everyone admired her peace.<\/p>\n
But after the dream, something unsettled her.<\/p>\n
That day, she moved through prayer distracted.<\/p>\n
During breakfast she barely ate.<\/p>\n
And while tending the convent garden, the dream kept returning.<\/p>\n
Not the husband.<\/p>\n
Not the marriage.<\/p>\n
The question.<\/p>\n
Who are you?<\/em><\/p>\n That evening, Mother Superior noticed her unease.<\/p>\n \u201cYou seem burdened,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n Maria hesitated.<\/p>\n Then she shared everything.<\/p>\n The older woman listened quietly.<\/p>\n When she finished, Mother Superior surprised her.<\/p>\n \u201cThat dream may not be about marriage.\u201d<\/p>\n Maria looked confused.<\/p>\n \u201cThen what?\u201d<\/p>\n The older nun folded her hands.<\/p>\n \u201cSometimes God uses strange stories to ask honest questions.\u201d<\/p>\n Maria lowered her eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cBut I know who I am.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo you?\u201d<\/p>\n The question lingered.<\/p>\n That night Maria sat alone in the chapel.<\/p>\n Candles flickered softly.<\/p>\n She had spent decades introducing herself the same way:<\/p>\n Sister Maria.<\/em><\/p>\n A servant of God.<\/em><\/p>\n A nun.<\/em><\/p>\n But beneath those titles\u2026 who was she?<\/p>\n The thought frightened her more than the dream.<\/p>\n Memories surfaced she had long buried.<\/p>\n Before the convent, she had loved painting.<\/p>\n She had laughed loudly.<\/p>\n Dreamed of travel.<\/p>\n And once\u2014only once\u2014she had loved a young man named Thomas.<\/p>\n She had left that life believing sacrifice meant leaving herself behind.<\/p>\n Had she mistaken holiness for disappearance?<\/p>\n Days passed.<\/p>\n The dream stayed with her.<\/p>\n Finally, she opened an old storage box beneath her bed.<\/p>\n Inside were forgotten sketches\u2014charcoal drawings from her youth.<\/p>\n Her fingers trembled tracing them.<\/p>\n Agnes found her there.<\/p>\n \u201cYou drew these?\u201d<\/p>\n Maria nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cI haven\u2019t painted in thirty years.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n Maria looked away.<\/p>\n \u201cI thought wanting things made me less devoted.\u201d<\/p>\n Agnes sat beside her.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd now?\u201d<\/p>\n Maria smiled sadly.<\/p>\n \u201cNow I wonder if God ever asked me to stop being myself.\u201d<\/p>\n That weekend, with Mother Superior\u2019s blessing, Maria began painting again.<\/p>\n Just small things at first.<\/p>\n Flowers.<\/p>\n The chapel garden.<\/p>\n Sunlight through stained glass.<\/p>\n And something inside her slowly awakened.<\/p>\n Weeks later, she dreamed again.<\/p>\n The same little house.<\/p>\n The same husband.<\/p>\n Morning light.<\/p>\n He turned to her and asked once more,<\/p>\n \u201cWho are you?\u201d<\/p>\n But this time, Maria smiled.<\/p>\n She answered softly,<\/p>\n \u201cI am Maria. I belong to God\u2026 but I belong to myself too.\u201d<\/p>\n And in the dream, the man simply nodded.<\/p>\n She woke with tears on her cheeks.<\/p>\n Not from fear.<\/p>\n From peace.<\/p>\n At breakfast, Agnes noticed her smile.<\/p>\n \u201cNo strange dreams?\u201d<\/p>\n Maria lifted her coffee and smiled warmly.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, the dream returned.\u201d<\/p>\n Agnes leaned closer.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n Maria looked toward the chapel windows glowing with dawn.<\/p>\n \u201cThis time,\u201d she said, \u201cI finally knew the answer.\u201d<\/p>\n Because sometimes the most frightening question is not whether we are loved\u2026<\/p>\n \u2026but whether we have remembered who we truly are.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u2026\u201cWhen morning came\u2026 he asked me what I was\u2026\u201d The nun clutched her chest and whispered, \u201c\u2026and I didn\u2019t know.\u201d Sister Agnes blinked. \u201cYou\u2026 didn\u2019t know?\u201d The nun\u2014Sister Maria\u2014shook beneath … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":52664,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-52663","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thesaddairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/52663","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thesaddairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thesaddairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thesaddairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thesaddairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=52663"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thesaddairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/52663\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":52665,"href":"https:\/\/thesaddairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/52663\/revisions\/52665"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thesaddairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/52664"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thesaddairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=52663"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thesaddairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=52663"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thesaddairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=52663"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}