“On September 4, 1911, I first saw the light of day. My parents, Michael Andrew and Clara Belle (Kanappel) Elbert, were born in Indiana. My mother’s father owned a flour mill and a blacksmith shop; my father’s parents were farmers and lived near Dogwood. Before their marriage, my mother was a school teacher. My father left the farm and became a motor man on the street car in Louisville. After the first three children were born, they attended the St. Louis World’s Fair. The call of the West became irresistible to them when they saw the lovely fruit and vegetables produced in the Northwest. They sold their home and took up a homestead in the Yakima Valley, later moving to the western part of Washington, where my sister Clara (our Sr. M. Johanna), I, and a brother were born.

Sedro-Woolley is located in the extreme Northwest and nestled in the Skagit Valley, surrounded by the picturesque Cascades - covered with virgin forest, whose trees reached 200 feet to the sky, with lakes, creeks, the Skagit River, and quite near Puget Sound. Our home was a former nursery and I feasted on the beauty all around - God’s handwriting for me.

On my sixth birthday I started school. There were no Catholic schools within a 30 mile radius; so from first grade on, I attended public school. We had an ordinary home life and were happy. We didn’t have the luxuries of life, but we didn’t go hungry or cold.

When I was in the seventh grade, there were more than our class could hold, so they put some of us ahead half a grade; then I made high school in three and a half years, finishing when I was 16. After graduating, my mother thought it would be nice if I’d go to a Catholic school, so I enrolled that fall at the Holy Names Normal School in Seattle. This was my first real contact with nuns. Several of them spoke to me about a religious vocation, which I tried to evade. On one occasion one of them made an appointment for me with my spiritual director, and they both strongly encouraged that I enter that Order.

Our family had received “Tabernacle and Purgatory” and my mother used to read us the stories. When my older sister, Clara, expressed a desire to become a “praying sister,” I didn’t show any interest.  After she entered and wrote glowing accounts of Clyde, the beautiful chapel and monastery, the privilege of perpetual adoration, the inspiring services, etc., I started thinking a little more about it.

Then when I attended Holy Names School, and was in contact with women who had consecrated their lives to God, the desire took on a greater urgency. But as much as I loved and revered the Sisters, I felt an attraction to the Benedictine Eucharistic way of life. I finished out the year, wrote to Clyde, and was accepted. Then my mother came down with a heart ailment, and since I was the youngest of the three girls, it didn’t seem right to leave her, so I stayed home for three more years.

As time went on I became more involved in other interests. Then on a camping trip in the Cascade Mountains with three friends, as I was admiring and enjoying God’s beauty, I seemed to hear, "If you don’t go now, it will be too late. ” So, I wrote Clyde again and entered in 1932. It was a step in the dark for me. I had no idea what I would be doing. I just knew that I wanted to be a bride of Christ. Of course, it was a big change. The climate was so different and the clothing. It was difficult to sleep in dormitories. But I felt called to this community because of its emphasis on prayer, and my periods of adoration were the high points of the day. It is beautiful to see how God gives us the strength, if this is what He wants us to do.

Through the years I have helped in the printery, kitchen, bakery, Altar Bread department, laundry, garden, library; maintenance, and reception room. I served as a chronicler, local councilor, Oblate Director, and worked with the Benedictine Guild, Knights of Columbus, Eucharistic Sentinels, and as pastoral minister to our Sisters in the St. Louis Health Care Center.

I am grateful for the beauty of our monastic homes; the peace and quiet that has helped our seeking closer union with Jesus and one another; my walks alone on the grounds of each monastery, at different seasons of the year - experiencing God’s beauty in nature. I recall the awesomeness of adoration, especially at night, when in the quiet stillness and semi-darkness, God seemed so near. And I have many fond memories of celebrations and good times in community.

I have enjoyed EVERYTHING - work, prayer, recreation. I tried to make what I was doing, ‘fun’ by motivation and intention, in order to take the drabness away. Sometimes life was a little hard, on cold and dark days when the practices were strict; but God always gives us what we need. Though it isn’t Easter all the time, each day and hour has its beauty and joys. ”

Sr. Mary Esther was surely known for her joy. And for her appreciation of beauty - in nature, life, and others. She was generous, gracious and loving. And she had a way with people, giving encouragement to Sister, relative, and guest alike. Or hosting little ‘tea parties’ for whatever the occasion. Or making special cards with just the perfect poem to fit the event. Or simply donning her smile as she imparted a kind word. She also loved to travel, and in detailed accounts of her pilgrimage to Lourdes (including Ireland, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and England), to Alaska, and elsewhere, she overflowed with gratitude for every experience, small or grand.

Sister M. Esther died on April 12, 2008. Now, one with the Lord whom she adored, Sr. Mary Esther delights in the fullness of joy and beauty. May our remembrance of her awaken our own appreciation and gratitude for life.