The hour is
grave. A simple panoramic view of our female monastic communities makes one
tremble: silence becomes a voice of mystery. Are we living or are we surviving?
Are we not perhaps hearing humanity’s cry on the Way of the Cross, invited to
rise up again by the One who calls us to life on Easter morning?The hour is
grave. For a Prioress, President of an international congregation – in France,
Madagascar, Vietnam, Benin and Ethiopia – with such different realities not
only in terms of faith but also in terms of political, economic and social
life. From survival to consumerism, our communities would seem to resist,

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