Irene Wurth was born August 15, 1910 in Melber, KY, to Robert and Mary Wurth, the sixth child in a family of nine, five boys and four girls. "Home was a simple house on a small farm and childhood was uneventful. I made First Communion in 1919, and would love to say it was an extraordinarily happy day, and that I experienced great peace and joy; but to be really honest, it was sort of an ordeal, being my first encounter with CEREMONY as well as with Jesus! And though 1 do truly love Jesus, I truly don’t love ceremony! ”

School didn’t interest her much, but she loved to read. After grade school she opted not to go to high school since there was no Catholic one nearby, "and the public school had a shady reputation” but she kept up her learning through observation and much reading. Vivian’s years between school and the convent were spent working at home, and a few miscellaneous jobs nearby.

In preparation for her seventeenth birthday she decided to make a general confession and put herself under the spiritual direction of her pastor. “Until then I had not felt attracted to the religious life, nor to marriage either, for that matter; but the day of my confession changed my life completely. It rained while we were in church, a veritable downpour, but nothing compared with the flood of grace and joy poured into my soul as I talked to Fr. Barrett in that little confessional! My vocation was born that very afternoon, a response in love and gratitude to God whose love had been revealed to me so vividly. ”

She told no one and made no plans for a while, but Vivian read about the sisters at Clyde and perpetual adoration in her aunt’s Tabernacle and Purgatory magazines. She wrote to ask about entrance requirements and received a letter from Mother Mary Dolorosa. “I knew that was where I wanted to go, but wasn’t in a great big hurry to take the plunge; and sort of shelved it until I was really sure. I didn’t even tell Fr. Barrett; though every time I went to confession he asked me if I had given any thought to a religious vocation ”

Eventually Vivian told her parents, pastor, and family. When her mother heard that the sisters prayed and milked cows, she suggested that Vivian learn to milk, “But I replied, ‘No, if I don’t know how to milk, I’ll never have to milk ’ (And that’s about the way it worked out, as I was not allowed to learn on those elegant Holsteins at Clyde!) ”

In her early years Vivian worked in the altar bread department, laundry, chicken house, and milk house. “Life during those years was very uneventful, made up totally of ‘Ora et Labora ’ and sleep, and fun enough to make it tick. ” In the various monasteries she worked in the sacristy, kitchen, correspondence department, and as portress and seamstress.

By the late 1950’s, early 1960’s she was struggling internally with her vocation, wanting a more contemplative life amidst the busyness and externals of the day. “Sacristy work is a privilege, physically so close to the sanctuary; but it can keep one so occupied with externals that the heart is drained. The aversion for externalism, which I had experienced before, really had occasion to grow as I went month after month overwhelmed with flowers and candles and ceremony... A new crisis was developing in my life. ” She wanted to transfer to the Poor Clares, but they, too, were in a time of transition, which deemed it an unwise move.

In the workings of Providence she read a letter from a Clyde sister who had transferred to Yankton. “The thought of trying Yankton -a Benedictine community with the same roots as Clyde- seemed a good idea, and I thought it would be possible to maintain a prayer life equal to what I was then living; so I wrote the Prioress in 1967 and received a gracious reply of welcome.”

In Yankton Vivian worked in their altar bread department (packaging Clyde breads), and assisted as guest mistress. Later she was sent to Chamberlain, SD and Canon City, CO, serving as seamstress, patient hostess, and sacristan. In 1974 she made a month-long bus trip through nine states and part of Canada, seeing friends and relatives, savoring every moment.

She asked if she could return to Yankton, “hoping to live happily ever after.” But after seven years she faced another change. “Yankton was beautiful and the sisters were kind and appreciative; but somehow I realized that I did not feel a part of  and had no hopes of ever becoming a ‘total Yankton sister,’ and felt a gradual growing tension. The idea of returning to Clyde seemed like a ray of light, and a gentle peace pervaded my soul. ”

Sr. Vivian transferred back to the Congregation, forty years from the day she came as a postulant. “What quiet peace enveloped my soul. What deep gratitude to all for the wonderful welcome that was extended to me. Only God can know the thoughts of my heart. 1 have no regrets, no apologies whatsoever for the years I was at Yankton, only deepest gratitude for those years... And in coming back I have realized the love that I could not realize before leaving. ” Upon her return, Vivian’s skills were once again put to use in the sacristy and sewing room - where she practiced her trade until the last month of her life.

Sr. Vivian was an excellent seamstress who paid attention to the smallest details, carefully selecting fabric, thread, and trim for each garment - making her clothing (especially her aprons), treasured keepsakes. She is also is fondly remembered for her poems and story-telling, her facility to memorize, as being extremely organized, and vastly well read. Sister also had a special compassion for prisoners, keeping faithful correspondence with some for years. She was interested and interesting, loved to sightsee, had a dry sense of humor, could ‘tell it like it is,’ and fully enjoyed herself, others, and life.

In 2003 she came to the health care facility in Clyde where she continued sew, read, and keep up correspondence. It was a surprise to all when she was diagnosed with colon cancer in May 2005. Sr. Vivian said that she was ready to meet the Lord, which she did just a few weeks later, amidst a severe Missouri thunderstorm - not unlike the “veritable downpour" on the afternoon of her general confession when she was sixteen years old. The flood of grace and joy at that time was but a foretaste of what was hers in this final passage on March 10, 2005.