The eve before I left while in prayer, I reflected on my spiritual journey. The eve that the sisters found me, they baptized me Isabel Roselyn de Caterina, after Saint Roselyn of Cairne. The sisters delighted in telling me stories about the devoted Saint.
When Saint Roselyn was a wee babe, her caretaker swore she saw the young babe's face change briefly into that of a rose. Saint Roselyn was so devoted that she fasted three times a week with secret severe penances. When she was admired, Rose cut off her hair against the objections of her family. Upon the censure of her parents, Rose disfigured her face with pepper and lye. She was very disturbed that she was so beautiful, and disfigured herself to make herself more humble.
I caught my reflection in the smooth, dark wood of my prayer altar. My hair hung almost to my waist in dark waves. I fell to my knees onto my prie dieu and uttered a prayer to my most holy savior and took a knife to my long locks. My hair fell in wisps around my feet. I felt now I could just begin to live up to the sacrifices of my namesake. And like my namesake, as I stared into my reflection at the altar again, I could have sworn for one brief moment I saw my face change into the shape of a rose. My soul felt light. I was ready.