Deel 4 A Nuns Testimony... This done, she slowly and painstakingly burned three crosses on my back, returning the poker to the coals when it cooled. Horrible screams ripped from my throat and pitiful, whimpering pleas for mercy gurgled out once more, but of course there was none. My nostrils burned again with the sickening acrid stench of my own burning flesh. Awful convulsions of rage and pure hatred for my tormenters boiled up in me. After over twenty-eight despairing, miserable months of captivity, these evil people had almost managed to destroy me for the second time. The utter hopelessness I experienced is very difficult to define or describe in words to one who has never gone through it. Mother Superior summoned eighteen of us to follow her on another day. As usual, we were afraid for we never knew what awaited us when we were called out. Silently we trailed her as she led us to the kitchen on the first floor. Handing us seven bean bags she unlocked the door leading into the outer courtyard which lay behind the high walls. We were actually being allowed a recreation period! We could scarcely contain our joy and amazement as we walked out into the fresh air and sunshine, for the first time. To those who have never been deprived of such ordinary things this may seem strange, but we walked only a few steps off the patio and fell eagerly on our faces in the lush green grass, smelling and clutching it greedily. To lie there in this way was like heaven, unbelievably wonderful and satisfying to our deprived senses which had been imprisoned inside the sterile convent walls and caverns for so long. We lay there side by side revelling in the air, grass and the sunshine and must have been a strange sight indeed. We were literally intoxicated by it all. While lying there, a coal truck lumbered up to the heavy iron gate of the courtyard. A man took a wheelbarrow from the truck and began to load it. After unlocking the gate, he pushed it open to bring the coal to the basement chute around the corner of the building. We all lay quietly still after stealing hurried looks to see what was happening. Quickly we turned our heads away, for it was punishable sin to look on any man other than a priest or bishop. A wild thought flashed through my mind. If I had what it took, I could dart out of the open gate ahead of him, as he was slowly making his repeated trips to the chute. Indecision paralyzed me, however, and I could not move because I had been so conditioned by fear to obey the rules. He made several trips and finally pitched the wheelbarrow on the truck and closed the outer gate. My heart sank as I heard the sound of the gate swinging shut, however I started up. My hearing was so sensitive after being in the convent silence that it seemed the gate sounded different when it closed. Could it be that the catch jammed and did not lock? It was impossible, but supposing it were true? With such thoughts surging through my brain, my heart seemed to be pounding so loudly that I glanced cautiously at the other nuns to see if they heard it. However, they were still luxuriating in the fresh green grass, the sunshine and fresh air and were noticing nothing. Very carefully I eased to my feet, moving quietly so as not to disturb them, and slipped over to the gate. Furtively, I looked back to the convent to see if I was being observed. As I got closer, I panicked and began to run. When I hit the big gate it swung open so easily I lost my balance and tumbled headlong into the cinder path, skinning my face, hands, and knees. Quickly I leaped up and shoved the open gate closed and the spring lock clicked, locking it securely. I did not want to attract attention by running, but my feet just flew down the sidewalk. It was incredible! I was free once more! I was outside the prison walls of the convent at last. It was a beautiful day but very windy, causing my habit and veil to blow around my face. I could scarcely see where I was going. Suddenly, I bumped into a man and in desperation I seized his arm and gasped in a frightened voice, Please help me! Hide me quickly. I have just escaped from the convent. This frightened him and he looked shaken, but he said, Come with me and I will put you in my barn. He had just put a load of fresh hay in the building and I began to climb up the ladder to hide in the loft. He stopped me, saying he had thought of a better place for me to stay. I followed him into his house where he quickly explained to his wife what was happening. They opened an access door in the corner of the kitchen ceiling and boosted me up there into the attic. This precious couple, in their thirties, were very good to me. They sent up pillows, blankets food and water. I hid there all night and through the next day. At dusk I told them that I must be on my way, to flee in the darkness. From them, for the first time, I learned exactly where I had been imprisoned for over two years. They supplied me with maps, and, as we checked them, found that I had been kidnapped 650 miles away. The maps were then marked so I could find my way back to Uncle Johns house. The lady packed a shoebox with food, gave me seventy-five cents and insisted that I change into some of her clothing for the trip and carry mine along. I was still hairless so she gave me a stocking cap. I had to go barefooted for I had no shoes or socks, and my friends had nothing which would fit me. I was undoubtedly a peculiar sight, dressed in clothing three sizes too large for me, as I began my trek to safety trying to hitchhike crosscountry. I walked and walked until my feet were so sore and I was so tired I felt I could go no further. When I stopped at a house to ask permission to sleep on the porch or in the garage, the lady took one look at me and slammed the door in my face. Wearily I plodded back to the road, heartsick, frightened and thoroughly discouraged. Only the thought of the horrors behind me kept me from giving up completely. These comfortable people, secure in their warm homes, comfortable beds with full stomachs could not relate in their wildest imaginations to what was going on so close by. The truth was too terrible to be believed, therefore nice people just deny it. Exhausted, I stumbled and half fell into the ditch until the lights in the house went out. I then crept out, slipped up alongside the house and lay down to fall into a fitful sleep. I was glad I brought along my heavy, holy habit because I wrapped it around me to keep out the biting night chill. When dawn broke, I nervously roused myself and again began to walk. I was filled with fear because I didnt know what the people might do to me. After I had eaten everything I brought with me, I stopped and begged food along the way. Some were gracious and gave me a nice meal, others abruptly refused and slammed the door in my face. Days and weeks went by as I painfully walked across the countryside. No one offered me shoes and my feet got so bad I wept and begged to die. For fourteen weeks I walked and hitchhiked, begging for food and a place to lie down to sleep. Finally I was about twenty-five or thirty miles from Uncle Johns, according to my maps. I asked at a railway depot if there was a train to Uncle Johns town and discovered there was a one car train which would come in five hours. From the meager store of coins which had been given to me, I counted out money, bought a ticket and lay down on the station bench to sleep. Although I was very hungry, no one offered me food. I caught the train and when I arrived at Uncle Johns house he said, My God, Charlotte, where did you come from? Then he showed me a letter from my dad stating that my own father was the one who had put me back into the convent. The letter said I was in safe keeping and that they knew where I was. My father was terrified because my invalid mother was so sick. Every time any member of the family, especially my father, went to confession, the priest would solemnly announce, There will be no absolution for your sin until Charlotte is back in the convent. The priest assured my dad that if my mother died she could not go to purgatory but would have to go straight to hell. My tormented father believed this and desperately feared this dread sentence on his beloved wife. To him, betraying me to the convent was not as bad as condemning my mother to hell. As I heard this, I was again filled with wrath and furiously assured my uncle I never wanted to see my father again. I was raging, deeply hurt and felt terribly lonely. Uncle John began to share with me about how his Roman Catholic neighbors had gotten saved. This had radically changed their lives, especially the father, who had been a wife and child beating drunkard. When my aunt died, they showed such concern and love to my uncle that he visited a Pentecostal church service with them. At 67 years of age my Roman Catholic uncle had never attended a church other than the Roman Catholic. He was deeply touched by the services and particularly by their clean-cut young people who were so different from the worldly Roman Catholic young people he knew. After several visits to the church, one night he leaped from his seat and ran to the front of the church shouting, My God, Im lost, Im lost, Im lost! He was a well known local businessman and it created quite a stir when he was saved. Later he received the baptism in the Holy Spirit. A childless widower, he promised to give himself and all his property to the Lord. As he finished this strange narrative, I was thinking the old man must have gone crazy. However, I had no other place to go, so I just said nothing. That night I overheard him praying for me, and again the next morning. Each time he was asking the Lord to save me. This went on nightly and for the rest of his life. Because I was so ill, my uncle put me in the hospital, paid my bills, took care of me, fed and clothed me. After I came home, my uncle became very sick and his doctor said he needed to be in the hospital. I begged the physician to let me keep my relative home and nurse him. It was my chance to repay him for his kindness to me. The doctor consented, however he steadily got worse and worse. In a few days my uncle called me in and said, Honey, Im going home to be with the Lord. I want you to call your father and tell him that my funeral will be in this church here. He told me which undertaker to call and also mentioned what he wanted done at the funeral. I was stunned, scarcely believing what I was hearing. He smiled, looked in my face, then closed his eyes and he was gone. When I realized he was dead, I was wracked with waves of awful grief. This man was all I had in life. All my precarious security was swept away. I was lost, and had been betrayed by everyone except this man. I felt I had been robbed of all I held dear and precious in this world. I fell across his lifeless body screaming furiously and hysterically, If there is a God, why, why did you take him away from me? Hes all I have. Its not fair! Its not fair. I finally pulled myself together and began to carry out my uncles instructions. I called the pastor; the undertaker; picked out the casket; sent telegrams and made all of the funeral arrangements. Uncle John never told his relatives that he had left the Roman Catholic church because he knew they would cut him off. Sure enough, when they learned this, not one single relative came to the funeral or sent flowers. People from the church knew of my deep attachment to my uncle and some stayed with me in the house for six weeks. When they had to go home, I was told to charge anything I needed at the grocery store and they paid every bill. Seven months after Uncle Johns death I begged the doctor to release me to go back to work. I hated being dependent and was anxious to assume responsibility for myself. I went to the neighboring state and took and passed a nurses examination. In a matter of days I had been hired by a large Roman Catholic hospital to nurse. In spite of all of Uncle Johns fervent praying and witnessing, I was still unsaved. For three years I worked there and was able to support myself. What a glorious feeling after being sick and dependent on others for so long. As Assembly of God woman preacher came in for major surgery and I was assigned to be her special nurse. Following her operation she awoke praising the Lord for sparing her life and asked me to read aloud from the Bible. I began to shake all over for, as a Roman Catholic nun, I was never allowed to read the Bible. Nevertheless I read to her daily for the ten days while she was hospitalized. I was assigned to nurse her at home also. When she was able, I accompanied her to a church downtown. I had been taught that all non-Catholics were heretics; therefore I only sat at the edge. Because I went each night, my employer gave me a Bible of my own. At the house I got in the habit of going down in the basement to read. Finally I dropped to my knees and said, If there is a God, I want you to show me. Many nights I would read the Bible until the wee hours of the morning. One night I dreamed about falling into the lake of fire and awoke screaming. My employer assured me God was trying to show me I was lost and needed to ask Jesus in my heart and be saved from all my sins. I dropped down on my knees and begged God not to let me die before I got saved. I went to church one night, so under conviction that I was miserable. The preacher got up to read his text but I could bear it no longer. Leaping from my seat I raced to the altar sobbing and crying out repeatedly, I dont want to go to hell! Oh God, have mercy on me, I dont want to go to hell! I fell in a heap at the front and there I wept as I confessed all my rotten sins, my hatreds, bitterness, evil thoughts and deeds. I poured it all out, not caring who heard me. What a refreshing and what a cleansing, as I asked for and received forgiveness. The Lord Jesus came into my heart and gave me salvation, full and free. Only those who have experienced being born again, being redeemed out of the hand of the enemy by the blood of Jesus Christ, can understand the supernatural glory, relief and joy which flooded my being that wonderful night. My friend took me to the telegraph office where I sent a wire to my dad notifying him that I was no longer a Roman Catholic, for I had been gloriously saved by repenting of my sins and receiving Jesus Christ as my personal Saviour. Three days later, sitting in my window at home, I looked up as a car screeched to a halt out front. My father and two Roman Catholic priests got out and came up the walk. Frightened, I ran quickly to the kitchen and told my friend that they were coming after me. She calmly told me to go to the door and invite them in. Because I was saved, she said there was nothing to fear. I did as she said and ushered them into the living room. Dad immediately blurted out, Charlotte, were come to take you home. Incredulously I answered, Dad, Im not going home with you. Im staying right here and will continue to attend the church where I found salvation. I want to learn more about God and the gospel of Jesus Christ. They had actually thought I was still the same mechanical robot I had been brainwashed to become in the convent! My father looked distraught and said, Charlotte, weve driven over 650 miles to come and take you home where you belong. After I again told my dad very firmly that, under no circumstances was I going to return with them, the older of the two priest leaped to his feet. He shouted furiously at me, Of course, you know what you have done! Youve damned your soul and youll spend eternity in hell. One day youll crawl back to the Holy Roman Catholic church on your hands and knees and beg for novenas to be said for you. One day youll want to come to the confessional box and receive absolution for your horrible sins. I had had enough of his raving and threatening. I thrust my Bible out in front of him and challenged him. If you can show me one scripture in the Holy Bible where God says I am to go to a man to confess my sins, Ill get down on my knees beside you now and crawl back to a Roman Catholic Church! His face turned red as he sputtered in a towering rage, snatched the Bible from my hand and threw it to the floor. He slammed his foot on my beautiful Bible and spun around with all his weight, ripping it to pieces, breaking the binding. If he had put his foot on my face, I doubt that it would have hurt half as much as witnessing this. Through this Bible I had found the truth, and assurance of salvation. If the Roman Catholic priests had the power, they would lead a house-to-house canvas, seize all the Bibles, soak them with gasoline and burn them all. When they come into power Bibles will not be permitted. The priest began to pronounce all of the curses of the Roman Catholic excommunication upon me because I had worn a holy habit and dared to take it off. First he cursed my eyes, that they would rot and fall out of my head. I wept hysterically and fearfully, for as yet I did not know very much that the Bible teaches. When I escaped the convent I only had 4 percent vision in my left eye and eight percent in my right eye. I was practically blind because of the vicious treatment I received at the hands of the demonically driven Mother Superior; therefore this curse frightened me. Next the priest cursed every vital organ in my body and commanded that maggots devour these organs. He droned on, By the authority of God Almighty, the Father; the Son and the Holy Ghost, and of the holy canons and of all the undefiled; the Virgin Mary, Mother of God; and of all the apostles, evangelists and holy innocents, who in the sight of the Lamb are found worthy to sing the new canticles; and of all the holy martyrs and holy confessors; and all the holy handmaidens (those are the nuns and sisters) of the Lord, and of all the saints together with the elect of God; we excommunicate Charlotte from the threshold of the Roman Catholic Church; that she be tormented with eternal suffering forever, and that the fire which burns will never be quenched. May God the Father who created man, curse her; the Son of God who suffered for man, curse her; may the Holy Ghost Who was given us in baptism, curse her; may the holy cross which Christ descended triumphant over His enemies, curse her; may the Holy Mother of God, the perpetual Virgin Mary, curse her; may Saint Michael, Keeper of holy souls, curse her; may all the angels, the archangels, the principalities and powers and all the heavenly armies, curse her; may the praiseworthy rank of patriarchs and prophets, curse her; may Saint John the forerunner and baptizer of Christ and Saint Peter, Saint Paul, Saint Andrew and all of Christs apostles, together with the other disciples, even the four Evangelists, who by their preaching converted the entire world, curse her. May the marchers and confessors, which by their good deeds are found pleasing to God, curse her. May the choirs of the holy handmaidens of the Lord, (nuns and sisters) who for the honor of Christ renounced as reprehensible the vanities of the world, curse her. May all of the saints who from the beginning of the world to the everlasting ages are found to be beloved of God, curse her. May the heavens and the earth and all the holy things remaining therein, curse her. May she be cursed wherever she goes, whether it is in the house, whether she is in the field, whether she is in the roadway, whether she is in the path, whether she is in the woods, whether she is in the water, or whether she is in the church; may she be cursed in living, may she be cursed in eating, may she be cursed in drinking, in being hungry, in being thirsty, in fasting, in sleeping, in drowsing, in being awake, in walking, in standing, in sitting, in lying, in working, in resting. All this was spoken in Latin and some statements were so filthy it is not decent even to repeat them. Of course, all of this comes straight from the pits of hell. The other more filthy parts, omitted here, were easily mouthed by a Roman Catholic priest in his holy habit. The curse continued: May she be cursed in all the faculties of her body; may she be cursed inwardly and outwardly; may she be cursed in the hairs of her head; may she be cursed in her brains; may she be cursed in the crown of her head; in her temples, in her forehead; in her ears; in her eyebrows; in her cheeks; in her jawbones; in her nostrils; in her teeth, both the biters and the grinders; in her lips; in her throat; in her wrists; in her arms; in her hand; in her fingers; in her breasts; in her heart and all the interior parts down to the very stomach; in the kidneys; in the groin; in the thighs; in the hips; in the knees; in the legs; in the feet; and in her tonsils. May she be cursed from the top of her head to the soles of her feet; let there be no soundness found in her; may Christ, the Son of the living God, curse her with all of the might of His holy office (this hurt me more than all the rest). During all this tirade of cursing and denunciations, my poor father stood like a pale and tight-lipped statue. He was completely bound by the traditions, darkness, superstition, illiteracy and illegitimacy of Roman Catholicism. When the priest finished his horrible condemnation, I was shaking with fear and sobbing hysterically. Remember, I was just a babe in Christ and still had to be delivered of the terrible fears instilled by years of agony and pressure in the Roman Catholic system. It was in 1946 when my father walked out the door with those two priests and I was left with a broken heart. I was numb, in a state of emotional shock, but went with my patient to a revival meeting that night. The message was on believers water baptism. This was all new to me, therefore I went to the pastor and requested a list of all the scriptures on water baptism. I wanted to know the truth for I had come out of such gross error and needed to be sure of what the Bible taught. When we came home I went directly to the basement to search the scriptures and prayed that the Lord open my understanding. Through the night I studied and prayed, and by morning I knew I must be baptized in water as the scriptures taught. The following night I went to church and was later baptized in the icy waters of the Mississippi River. As I came up out of the water, many infirmities, sicknesses and pains were miraculously removed from my body. Later, at the church I learned about the baptism in the Holy Spirit. Again I requested and received a list of scriptures on this teaching. I plunged into another session of study in the basement to learn what Gods word taught. Seven priests showed up at the home to bluff, stare at and threaten me. I cried all day long after they left until my face was swollen and eyes bloodshot. I was learning how strong and tenacious the old soul ties to a demonic religious system could be. Keep in mind that I was caught in this religious snare from birth and was soaked through and through with the power which energizes the wicked system. I almost did not attend church that night, but went anyway. The sermon topic was the crucifixion of Christ and this repulsed me. I wanted to wait outside in the car, but the lady with whom I stayed urged me to come inside. To me, the cross was what I had learned to dread and hate. Horrifying memories of the ghastly tortures, torment, abuse and suffering were associated with that rough, bloodsoaked cross in convent torture chambers. How many times had I cringed and groaned after flagellation with whips as Mother Superior forced the cruel metal crown of thorns on my scarred, bald head. Then loaded with a rough-hewn, heavy, eight foot cross dropped on my frail, lacerated back, I had to drag it, staggering across the room, until I collapsed. I was so weak I could never get very far. There was another horror chamber two stories underground in the convent where several times I was forced to lie on the dirt floor in the form of a cross, without moving, for three days and three nights without food or water. During this time all the priests and nuns were there with Mother Superior and they repeatedly walked back and forth across my body. This painful and humiliating trial was supposed to teach me humility and submission and crush out pride. No wonder I shuddered and recoiled from hearing about the cross. However, as I listened to the Biblical message on the meaning of the cross, it took on a whole new aspect. I was caught up in the awe as scriptures regarding it were expounded. By the time we got to the part where the Roman soldier pierced His side, I wept with real understanding of the bloody sacrifice Jesus had made for me. During the invitation I fell to my knees and asked for the baptism in the Holy Spirit. Although I had always been very conscious about my haggard looks and lack of hair, this night at the church I did not care about my hair, dress or anything else. I ended up stretched out on that dirty floor weeping for over an hour. Many, many ungodly things came out of me during that time of heart searching. God dealt deeply with me as I laid my entire family on the altar, my brother, the ordained priest; my parents, sisters and other brothers. I asked the Lord to save them at any cost. Once again, upon arrival at home, I went down in the basement to spend the time alone with the Lord. There I danced all night before the Lord. The next morning when the lady of the house came down to check on me she asked if I was hungry but I had lost my natural appetite. Each time I tried to answer her I spoke in tongues and could not speak English. For two days and nights this continued and I promised Jesus I would go anywhere He would send me to testify of His glory. Three days before the revival meeting closed I was handed a telegram stating my father had died and gave the time of his funeral. My father disinherited me when I refused to go home with him and the two priests. I was afraid to go to the funeral and it was nearly seven hundred miles away, however I did send some flowers. My mother had her personal banker set aside $12,000 of her own money for me when she learned that my father had cut me out of his will. I didnt even know she had any money and when her attorney contacted me about it I wept happily. With these funds I was able to buy a used car and a new cloth coat and I banked the rest. Before she left town, Sister Nila, the young Pentecostal evangelist, invited me to come to see her if I was ever in Chicago. I told Sister Nila I planned to run an ad to sell my furniture and everything else in the apartment. The first morning two priests came, not to buy, but to harass. I had to threaten to call the police to get them to leave. The next morning another priest showed up, heckling and trying to frighten this ex-nun who had publicly gone to a Pentecostal altar. I hired a woman to stay in my apartment until all was sold. I packed up and moved to a large hotel nearby. Here I knew the owner personally and gave orders to let no one come to my room. I could come to the lobby to see any visitors. One morning the phone ran and I was told that three people had come to see me. When I came down, there stood my brother, the priest, dressed in his holy habit, with two of my sisters. The women turned their backs to me but he strode across the lobby towards me. My mother had died from a stroke two weeks before. Furiously he spat at me, I guess you know what you did. He proceeded to belittle me and told me I was damned forever (because I had run to the feet of Jesus) and I would certainly burn in hell forever for this. He further stated that I had sent my mother to an early grave. Imagine, my mother who had been a complete invalid for seven long years while I was imprisoned in a foreign convent! He raved on and made many nasty, hurtful statements and wild charges. After he had vented his spleen on me, he turned to walk away. I caught him by the arm and said, Now wait just a minute, Chet. How many women have you destroyed in the confessional box? I know about the priests who go to homes when the husbands are away. He flushed angrily and glared at me with hatred in his eyes. I continued, Chet, have you ever been in a convent? Did you ever rob a little sister of her virtue? He hissed curses under his breath, lunged for me and struck me viciously with his fist. He was over six feet tall, a big man, so I got a black eye and a huge knot on my head when he knocked me down. The man behind the desk witnessed the attack and leaped to my defense. He said terrible things to my brother and ordered him to get out of the hotel and never return. I put my car and coat in a storage and caught a train to Chicago. There I found a hotel room near the meeting where Sister Nila was working. I went every night and then, at her invitation, went with her to visit her family. From there we went to a meeting in Wisconsin. Several days later, an attorney called telling me that a member of my family was suing me for all the money my mother had left to me. After a wrangle with lawyers and courts, they took all the money and my car and coat. I wept at the greediness and unfairness of it all, but it actually drew me closer to the Lord. I accepted Sister Nilas invitation to travel with her for the next thirty months. It was after I returned to the place where Sister Nila was in revival I received a telegram. My youngest sister asked me to return home because my dad was asking for me. Remember, earlier, I had wired a funeral wreath for him because they notified me that he had died, so this was a shock. My family deliberately led me to believe he was already dead. When I arrived, my sister told me that my dad was still alive, in his eighties, very independent and well off financially. I was apprehensive about how he would react to me. However, when I saw him he grabbed and hugged me, saying, Hookie, you look wonderful. He was leaving on a trip to see his other children, but I was very happy for our reunion.
Posted on: Sat, 24 Jan 2015 17:17:03 +0000
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