By Sister Mary Roy Weiss, SSND, for Blessings Spring 2025
“Mother Abbess” was the title affectionately given to Sister Alice Donnelly by our young, new SSND member, Sister Rebecca Tayag.
Rebecca had come to St. Leo Convent in Irvington, NJ, in the mid-1970s, where Alice served as community leader and guidance counselor at St. Leo Elementary School.
(We Sisters taught and ministered at St. Leo's and at Archbishop Walsh High School. The convent and church were located between the two schools - a short walk wherever we had to go.)
Alice's religious name had been Sister Aquiline. She chose to return to her birth name when we were given the option following Vatican II.
Rebecca may have called her "Mother," but she really did have ideal motherly qualities. She was generous, gentle, and caring. She made sure we had fresh fruit to eat, to maintain physical health as well as healthy minds and spirits. She was visionary, determined, and fun.
Alice lost her own mother while in high school. Perhaps that loss spurred all five of the Donnelly children to enter religious life (like Alice, Gertrudis chose to enter the SSNDs).
The siblings remained close to each other, despite their sometimes-remote locations: Ruth (Sister Mary of the Immaculate Heart) entered the Dominican cloistered convent at the monastery of Our Lady of the Rosary in Buffalo, NY, and Dick and Arthur - both Redemptorist priests - served in Brazil and the Caribbean, respectively.
Her siblings' inaccessibility did not deter Alice from going to them. When Dick died suddenly, Alice was “driven out of love” to go to Brazil that same day - without a passport. (It took some connections with politicians in Massachusetts to get her back into the USA!)
Nor was Alice deterred from visiting her cloistered sister. I was witness to a joyful reunion among the siblings when Sister Rebecca and I accompanied Alice and Gertrudis to visit Ruth. Their brother, Arthur, also joined our group. We were able to visit with Ruth through the double grill.
Years later, in another example of Alice's determination, I traveled with her to visit Ruth as she was dying. We needed special permission from a male cleric in charge of the monastery to visit Ruth in the inner chambers of the monastery where the Sisters’ infirmary was located. What a happy, joyful time for Alice, able at last to hug her sister after so many years of cloister restrictions!
A Stance of Hope
Everything Alice did was powered not only by her determination, but by her stance of hope. She acted on hope, showing us all how and when and why to act.
Alice changed many SSND lives with her hope and vision. She led us to the Eucharistic Congress in Philadelphia in August, 1976, where we participated alongside with such greats as Cardinal Karol Wojtyla (the future Pope John Paul II), Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Dorothy Day, and Princess Grace of Monaco.
Alice twice brought the entire St. Leo's community to Harvey Cedars, NJ, to build community and set goals for the future.
Her concern for each of us was clear as she eagerly learned of our families and their life events.
She attended my brother's graduation from the NJ State Police Academy, and my family reciprocated her affection.
When she celebrated her 70th Jubilee, my mother and sister-in-law traveled to Wilton to celebrate with her. (I had helped her shop for a fun Jubilee outfit: a bright pink suit!)
When Alice left St. Leo’s, she went to St. Mary of the Pines in Chatawa, Mississippi, for sabbatical time and personal renewal. She wasn’t finished with ministering, though! She lived and worked full time as a pastoral minister in Leonia, NJ, for the next 19 years!
When Alice finally retired, she served another five years in community service at our Motherhouse in Wilton, CT.
As Alice neared the end of her life at the Lourdes Health Care Center, she told her friend, Sister Adele Shea, that she was not afraid to die. Her last words to Adele, as the latter sat by her bed, were, “I love you and I am so glad you are here with me.”
Alice's generosity and compassion will live forever, serving people who will never know her name.
As I write this now, I say, "I love you, Alice, and am so glad and grateful you continue to be here with - and for - us all."
