Waterbury Democrat., 1901-07-31
-7 -@ v.
 FAREWELL TO REV MOTHER
Alumnae Met Last Night and Passed
 Resolutions of Regret.

meeting of the Alumnae of the Convent de Notre Dame, which was called for last evening to take appropriate action in regard to the transfer of Mother St Stanislaus, Mother Superior of the local convent to Cornwall, Canada, was well attended After discussion of Mother Stanislaus' removal, in which all those present expressed deep re gret the following resolutions were passed:
 Whereas, Rev Mother Superior has been called away from the scene of her Waterbury labors. and whereas, during the twenty-eight years she has been in Waterbury she has endeared herself to young and old and
 Whereas, we, the Alumnae, feel ourselves especially indebted to Rev Mother Superior for the interest she has taken in us individually and as body, and has steadily worked for the advancement of our alma mater, therefore be 1t
 Resolved. That the Alumnae deeply regret Mother Superior's departure from Waterbury. Be 1t resolved that during her stay with us Rev Mother Superior has even set us high exam pie of an ideal life. Be it resolved that her memory and name shall never be forgotten in the annals of the Con vent Be it resolved that the Alumnae tender to Rev Mother Superior their heartiest wishes for her happiness in her new mission. Be it resolved that a copy of these resolutions be en- crossed and presented to Rev Mother Superior as slight testimonial of the love and esteem in which she is held by the Alumnae of the Congregation of Notre Dame, Waterbury.
 The following address was then de- liyered by Miss Mary Agnes O'Connor, who presided at the meeting at which Mother St Stanislaus and the other sisters of the Notre Dame institution were present:
 Rev and Dear Mother Superior:
 Around our convent today there echoes a note of parting and regret. We, who had fondly faneied that you would close your last years with us, are assembled to say. Farewell" It is now twenty-eight years since. as the young nuns with high ideals and the ardent zeal sof the noviate, yon came to Waterbury, your first mis- sion, and, as we hoped, without a doubt your last. But. our dream has been rudely broken, and we behold it's fragments at our feet. like those with all the huesof the spectrum, the next shattered by apassing breeze. Ourscity was yet young when you first entered the little red house on the hill" as one of reverenced memory called the first Convent.
 You, in your long sojourn with us have seen the town grow vigorously, and take in one by one the slopes and hills which were meadow and pasture land when first you came. You have seen spire after spire arise to point the way to Heaven. schools erected on all sides, the modest manufactures enlarge to giant proportions. During those years of change you grew into the hearts of sall, and we trust, we know our names entwined in yours. There are few of us, now grown to womanhood, who do not remember days when as children. we listened to your voice telling some tale of hermit or of saint, some story of high en- deavor lived, not where the blatant voices of the crowd applaud, but in si- lence and sweetness and light. And during those hours gentlest training your own sweetness of disposition and gentleness of demeanor. so endeared you to your pupils that in after years, when perhaps, more sordid aims had woven web over their souls, they found the deepest pleasure in 1o~ h @<N of and felt you to beNa link that bound their souls to Heaven. There are world lings who would smile perhaps, at the story of these years. They look for or- chestral music and find the hymn of Benediction. They seek for purple and fine linen and find only coarsest serge. They search for pleasure and find the triple VOW of obedience, chastity, pow erty. No, dear Mother, not where the plaudits of the world would assafl your all too humble soul, did you seek to regenerate the world. Your lips ut tered no sounding sentence of Gre form,' nor tinkling phrases of new cultus. The morning mass, the daily communion, the long vigil of watching and of prayer, the patient endeavor to teach Gods little ones. becoming for His sake, ''as one these" All these were yours. Your ears were ever ready to listen to the story of some oyer-burdened heart, your sympathy quick, your words of counsel ready, your charity unfailing. Now those whom you taught have gone into the world. They are putting in practice the lessons you instilled. and realizing in their memories of you. the immense, the undying influence of s'still, small voice." Thee hildren of many of them have come to learn as their mothers learned from your meekness, faith and gentleness. "Your children's children bless you" How then, dear Mother, shall we gather up the fragrance and the Incense of those years? I know no words of mine so appropriate as these from an unknown pen:
 "This is your picture framed about
 With palms and shadowing wings; Set in a softly curtained niche
 Apart from common things.
 And. though your hand no lily clasps,
 Your brow no aureole wears,
 You are my saint. whose steadfast eyes
 Turn all my thoughts to prayers.
 You walked in the dim cloister's shade,
 Along life's dusty way,
 And rOsaries of blessed deeds