“Come away... to a deserted place and rest a while.” Mark 6:31
Day One
Monday
June 4
It is not the first time that I have driven on Route 7 past Leesburg. It’s truly amazing how quickly the scenery turns from suburban to rural. I get to Snickersville and can see the mountains - all part of the Shenandoah Valley preservation area- this is one beautiful state. Anyway, it is too early to look for the monastery, the trip didn’t take very long from Arlington and check-in time doesn’t start until 3 pm. I continue down Route 7 and turn in to the Veramar Winery. I don’t want a “taste” so I just drive down the unpaved road to their gate, through a forest while Ottmar Liebert plays on my Ipod, perfect timing in my opinion. I take a quick look around, it’s nice, very European looking, and then backtrack on Route 7 to find the turnoff for the monastery.
The map shows the road to the monastery running along the Shenandoah River which is hard to miss. I find it quickly and about a mile down another forested road swarming with tufted titmice and redwing blackbirds, I find the driveway gate for the Holy Cross Abbey. Up that long driveway I see two gray buildings and a smaller building with a parking lot in front. Up to now, it had been a beautiful sunny day but all of a sudden (an omen?) torrential rain starts falling. I park in the the little lot waiting for the rain to subside and notice an “open” sign in the window. Turns out this is the monastery Gift Shop -my kind of place. When the rain fizzles to a drizzle I take out my “happy face” umbrella, walk in and tell the cloaked monk at the sales counter that I am here for my retreat. Oops, wrong place. I’m told to go further down the road to find the Retreat House. So I do as I am told. The Retreat House is a modern brick building in a T-shape (maybe it’s a cross, now that I think of it). No one is here to greet me so I just go in, look around and find an older man in worn-out khakis and a flannel shirt in the dining room. He introduces himself as Brother Benjamin; he has a hard time hearing me though because his hearing aid does not seem to work well. He finds his list of expected visitors (everyone comes on Monday) and there I am, right up on top. My room assignment is A3, he tells me and points down a dormitory-like hallway at the end of which is a door to a small simple chapel. Okay. The room doors remain open as each is yet unoccupied. My A3 room is clean and good-sized with cinder block walls and carpeted floors. The windows open and look out at the mountains. When I look at the map I realize that I must be looking at West Virginia because we are so close to the border. Like all the others, this room has a single bed, an armchair, two lamps and a built-in desk. There is also an ensuite bathroom complete with a shower and two towels. Brother Benjamin told me that I would find “instructions” in the room. I get my stuff out of the car and settle down to read the instructions. No radio, no cell phone, no musical instruments. And no newspapers or magazines. Breakfast anytime before 9.30 am, dinner at noon and supper at 6.25 pm. Promptly. For your spiritual needs, Vigils at 3.30 am (!!), Lauds (with Eucharist!) at 7 am, Midday Prayer at 2 pm, Vespers at 5.30 pm and Compline (what’s that?) at 7.30 pm. I read until dinner. I am prompt but just to be sure everyone is on time, Brother Benjamin walks down the dorm hallway ringing two bells. The tables in the dining room are placed in a horseshoe shape, set with placemats, napkins and silverware. I sit down because the only other occupant, a white haired man with one leg, is already sitting down. After Brother Benjamin’s bells have rung, the other guests, eight of them, all file in and stand behind their chairs. Brother Benjamin says something, his speech sounds garbled to me, and finally everyone (but me and the one legged man, we’re already sitting) sits down. One of the women guests (she must be an old-timer) takes it upon herself to pour the water for everyone. The supper is “serve yourself” which works especially well given the horseshoe shape. The menu... let’s just say, good thing I ate a big burrito at Moe’s for lunch. It’s what Brother Benjamin calls “Monday Night Soup.” You know what that means. Oh, yes and cheese slices and salad with “pour on your own” bottled dressing. While we eat, Brother Benjamin speaks. All I hear is near the end. We must try to keep silent. It’s more about discipline than virtue, he tells us. Just can’t have 4 or 5 people speaking across the dining room. Who would want that? I notice, too, that we do not look at each other -no eye contact. Supper ends in silence, eyes down. It’s 7.15. To fill up the time, I check out the guest list posted on the bulletin board. Of the nine guests, there are 3 women and 6 men. Of the 6 men, there’s a Father, a Brother and a Monsignor. Who knew? More news tomorrow.
