Left to Right: Eleanor, Ann Marie, Mary Jane (in the center, in white) Mary Beth, and Susan - all strong, proud women of the Class of 1965 - St. Vincent's Hospital School of Nursing, NY, NY
Mary Jane was one of a kind. She was brilliant and creative and dramatic and loving. The following poem is hers. I believe the final line of her poem is a prophecy. Now, more than ever, it is our time to light up the Church.
I Will Tiptoe
by Mary Jane Sassone
Jarkowsky (2002)
Introibo ad altare dei
Ad deum qui laetificat juven
tutem meum
I will go unto the altar of God
Unto God who giveth joy to my
youth
So began the
ancient words of the Tridentine Mass
I am 12 years old
I am a Catholic Schoolgirl
I have known Latin since I was
six
My soul hunger and my very life
itself feed on
Novenas benediction Solemn High
Mass Gregorian chant
The rosary and the Stations of
the Cross
Daily after school I visit Jesus
Lonely in his golden tabernacle
Amidst the flickering red votive
candles
My head shrouded
By a lace mantilla
Darkness falls early that
November
I am astonished when my father
Who volunteers as the church
sexton
Asks me to turn on the church
lights
Could it be he does not know the
rules?
But Daddy
I can’t go beyond the Communion
rail
You know
Because I am a girl!
Daughter
The lights have to be turned on
And there are no boys
No boys to do it
And so the job falls to me…..a
girl
To fulfill the honor and duty I
owe my father
I will dare to enter the Holy of
Holies
The nuns are allowed to do it
Care for the altar clothes
Arrange the flowers
Scrape dried wax off the candle
holders
For they are the Brides of Christ
I will do it because Jesus is my
friend
I will turn the lights on for Him
Even though feminine flesh
defiles the Holy of Holies
I will break sacred tradition
Going back thousands of years
Back to Moses and the Arc of the
Covenant
I will figure out how
To least offend God by my
presence
First I will apologize to God
For being a girl
Then I will remind God
There are no boys
No boys to do it
Opening ever so reverently the
gates
I will step across the barrier to
the sanctuary
I will hold my breath
If I do not breath I will be
invisible
And lest my feet desecrate the sanctified
area
I will tiptoe
Across the Turkish carpet and
Italian marble floors
Before the tabernacle
I will tiptoe
I will tiptoe
I will tiptoe
And light up the Church