Sister Claire-Marie is bent over the earth, which she is stubbornly digging up to plant tulip bulbs. When she turns to look up at the person she’s speaking to, a smile lights up her face, adding to the wrinkles already accumulated over the years.
Sister Claire-Marie is like a fragile reed that winds bend but never break, like many of the nuns here. At the Abbey of Faremoutiers, in Seine-et-Marne (France), the Benedictine Congregation of Mont-Olivet continues centuries of monastic life by offering a new home to sisters in delicate situations.
A new vocation for an old abbey
Twenty-two nuns live here, but in the corridors of this somewhat atypical abbey, which has retained almost nothing of its historical architecture, the visitor will be surprised to come across Benedictine, Carmelite, and even Poor Clare nuns.
Founded in the 7th century by St. Fare, the abbey was rebuilt several times. It was damaged by a fire in 1140, then by the Hundred Years War, and finally by the French Revolution, which dealt it a fatal blow: Monastic life came to an end, and its centuries-old buildings were reduced to nothing.
Having become a bourgeois residence, it didn’t regain its original vocation until 1930. In 1980, the abbey created a retirement home for elderly or frail sisters from other contemplative communities.
A blended and therapeutic community
Although the abbey welcomes nuns from different orders, they all follow the Benedictine rule. “We have Visitation, Carmelite, St. John, and Bethlehem sisters in our home. Each one comes with their spiritual treasures and roots and blends into our Benedictine way of life,” Mother Maylis told Aleteia.
Some of the sisters who have sought refuge here have experienced painful situations that have led them to seek a new home. The closure of an abbey, cases of control and abuse, fragile psychological health ... Faremoutiers has become a new place of peace where the sisters can lead their monastic life to the full.
“What we’re trying to achieve is a unique project, in which nursing home care is integrated into daily life. There’s no separation between the elderly sisters, or those who have experienced trauma, and the others,” Mother Maylis explains to Aleteia
“We form a community, and that’s what’s truly therapeutic. We enable our fragile sisters to continue on their path while rebuilding themselves in a normal environment. We don’t set them apart, we form a single body,” she says.
The nuns who benefit from the nursing services therefore receive care provided by a full professional team: nurses, assistants, a reflexologist, a psychologist, etc. Approved for only 18 people, the support provided to the nuns is intended to be impeccable and particularly attentive.
The rooms are specially equipped for this purpose, with equipment adapted to provide palliative care and support until death. The nuns receiving treatment are monitored daily by Coralie, the nurse coordinator.
“They have a personalized care plan, as in any nursing home,” she explains. “At night, we always have a caregiver who’s there to provide a presence. We remain as discreet as possible between interventions so as not to disrupt the rhythm of this very special life.”
Keeping active is vital
Not far from the infirmary, Sister Marie-Guénolé, 88, a Benedictine nun from Kergonan, is having her afternoon snack. From the corridor, laughter can be heard: Sister Léonie-Marie is busy in the abbey’s card-making workshop, happily leaving Sister Maylis de Jésus to take her mind off things for a few moments.
Educational workshops are also part of the Faremoutiers universe, enabling the sisters to develop and live their contemplative life to the full. “In order for a place to develop, it must live,” says Mother Maylis. “To merely scrape by is to die. If we want to live, we must encourage the undertaking of projects.”
For example, the sisters run their own herbal tea shop. Further on, in the large park, there’s a small flock of sheep. The sisters use the wool to make insoles, and have bags and hats made by a milliner. The fruits of this monastic labor are then sold in their shop.
Finding happiness in surrendering to God’s will
Outside, Sister Claire-Marie is always busy in the garden. Now 81, she arrived in Faremoutiers five years ago, after the closure of her monastery, Saint-Joseph du Bessillon in Cotignac. “Turning 80 years old was shocking for me!” she exclaims with a hearty laugh, “but as long as I can still garden, everything's fine.”
She admits with a hint of sadness in her eyes that she misses the Provence sun. “I was hoping to die there. But the community was dissolved. I didn't choose to come here, the Lord chose for me. In such cases, you have to accept that you didn't choose, and that takes time.
"You always get something good out of it,” the Benedictine nun adds before turning her attention back to her tulips.
Sister Marie-Aurélie frowns at the plans for a new wooden planter, next to Virginie, who is in charge of the garden. “I organize gardening workshops some afternoons. The sisters are very keen. There are workshops on sowing, on germination... We’ve also planted several aromatic plants that can be used to make herbal tea,” explains Virginie.
“I didn’t know anything about it,” says Sister Marie-Aurélie.
A Carmelite, she arrived in Faremoutiers three years ago for health reasons. She hadn't planned to end up here either. “It was the Boss who wanted it,” she says with a smile. “It's very good this way. And then if He has had enough, He will come and get me. I believe that the secret of happiness is to surrender to His will.”
