“How did you know you had a calling?”

I was about to raise my hand to answer Sister Stella’s question, but I stopped midway. Why though? How did I know I had a calling?

Sister Stella continued, “Was it a childhood dream for you? Was your love for God so great that you decided that the most fitting way for you to serve him is to become a nun?”

Several in the class nodded, including me.

“If your answer to my questions is yes,” she said, “then it is not enough.”

We all gaped at her. It is not enough? What does she mean?

“Wanting to be a nun is one thing, but for God to will you to become one, now that’s what I’m talking about.”

Sister Stella rose from her seat, and looked at each of us in the eye. “Being an all-knowing God, He knows what’s best for us. Wanting to do something that He knows is not best for us—even if it is in His name—could make you regret your decisions for the rest of your life. And our God, being a loving God, does not want us to suffer.”

“God wills it that some women become nuns. He sends signs. Only then will you know that you are truly meant to be a nun, if your desire as a nun aligns with what He knows is best for you.”

Some of us did not bother hiding our skepticism over what she said, so she merely shook her head with a smile. “Still doubting what I said? Think about this, then: with all the devout Catholic women in the world, why are there so few nuns in convents?”

A soft tinkling bell sounded in the corridor, signaling the end of our lessons with Sister Stella. As she walked to the door she turned back to us and said, “Being a nun isn’t the only way to love God.” She smiled at us and left.

* * *

As an acolyte for a religious order that ran a convent school, I was assigned to become an assistant guidance counselor to the students as part of my training. Whether it was my young age, my excellent academic grades or my previous experience as a student leader made them assign me to the position, I had no idea.

Or perhaps it was His idea of a sign.

* * *

“Sister Seohyun!!”

I turned around and saw Yeri, running to me and shouting out my name so loud that some of the nuns were already looking scandalized.

“Yeri!” I said, as she stopped in front of me to catch her breath. “What is it? Is something the matter?”

Yeri was one of the students who confided in me the most, and I found her very intelligent and sweet.

“Sister Seohyun! I have a favor to ask.”

I nodded at her and said, “Okay, what is it? As long as that’s not against the school rules.” I looked at her sternly and she shook her head.

“No, of course not, Sister! Actually…” She bowed her head and looked at her feet, intent on avoiding my gaze. “Well, you see… Sister Irene told me you were a good singer, so…”

“What??” I blurted out. I wasn’t really a good singer, but ever since Sister Irene heard me singing in our room she has never stopped asking me to sing again. It seems she has also started broadcasting my average singing skills. I sighed.

“Okay then… but what’s the occasion?”

“OMG, really?? Thank you so much!” Yeri clapped her hands and took out a piece of paper from her pocket. “You see, it’s my parents’ 20^th wedding anniversary! And you know, I wanted to give them a special gift, so…” She did a 90-degree bow and said, “Could you please sing for them? This is their favorite song... While you’re singing, I plan to give them my gifts and read them my letter… please?”

* * *

A week later, I was in front of a coffee shop, holding a guitar and with Yeri at my side.

“Um… a coffee shop? I thought you were going to set up a special place from them?”

Yeri smiled and said, “This is a special place, Sister. Well, for them, at least.” She happily waved at the manager (who she befriended weeks before) and continued, “This was where my parents first met, back in their college days. Dad said she always saw Mom writing something on a piece of tissue paper, and then she would leave the tissue on her table. One day he decided to pick up the tissue she left, and saw that what she was writing were her messages to her future husband. Turns out that she wrote those things just to see if 'destiny' actually works. And it did, for the two of them!” Yeri looked at me and said, “Cute, right?”

I smiled at her, and felt something tugging at my chest. We could probably have—

Suddenly Yeri nudged me in the ribs, looking excited. “Sister! They’re here!”

From a distance we saw a handsome car driving in our direction, and Yeri pushed me into the coffee shop.

I stumbled inside the shop, and the manager smilingly beckoned me to where I’m supposed to stand.

As Yeri guided her smiling parents to their seats, she nodded at me and I started playing the guitar.
 

I wanna make you smile whenever you're sad

Carry you around when your arthritis is bad

All I wanna do is grow old with you           

I'll get your medicine when your tummy aches

Build you a fire if the furnace breaks

Oh it could be so nice, growing old with you

I'll miss you         

Kiss you

Give you my coat when you are cold

Need you

Feed you

Even let ya hold the remote control

So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink

Put you to bed if you've had too much to drink

I could be the man who grows old with you

I wanna grow old with you

As Yeri’s teary-eyed parents clapped hard and thanked me profusely for my song, something tugged at my memory…

Although I declined, the manager offered me some snacks and told me to sit in one of the chairs (Yeri was with her parents, laughing and crying with them). I sat in the corner, near the coffee shop’s “freedom board” where the customers tacked random messages written on small pieces of paper. Some messages were funny, some were sort of emo. I even saw one, written on tissue about missing someone who doesn’t care—

I pause. I stand up to take a better look at the words, written on tissue in a familiar handwriting, a handwriting that I could recognize among a million others:

How is she?

I miss her so much.

But I guess she doesn’t give a damn about me. Ugh.

Arrgh why do I still care if she gives a damn or not?

Aaaand why the hell am I writing on a piece of tissue??

You’re going crazy, Im Yoona. OTL

As her words washed over me, I felt that familiar memory from earlier pulling me in, taking me back to times past…

Two years ago

I walked away from Yonghwa, leaving him and his flowery proposal behind. I’ve already rejected him twice, but why won’t he stop??

“Seohyun! Seohyuun!”

I slowed down, so that Yoona could catch up. “Seohyun!” Yoona was already panting, so I stopped to wait for her to catch her breath. “Seohyun,” Yoona said again, “are you alright?”

I nodded. “Yes of course,” I said. “But I can’t help but be annoyed. I’ve already rejected him! Why is he so pushy!” I felt so annoyed that Yonghwa was thinking that he could win me over with his cheesy gimmicks!

“Now, now, calm down.” Yoona faced me and placed her hands on my shoulders. “But he’s actually a pretty nice guy, though. After you walked away, he looked so sorry that he made you angry… and he wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry, and he’s not going to bother you again.”

I felt guilty for hurting Yonghwa that way, but what can I do? He seemed to genuinely like me, but I just didn’t like him in a romantic way.

“Look,” Yoona said jokingly, “if you keep on going like that, you’ll end up a spinster!”

“Well,” I said, pinching Yoona’s cheek playfully, “we could grow old together!”

“Wha-what??” Yoona seemed so taken aback by what I said, that I decided to play with her a little longer.

“Why not?” I said as I placed an arm around Yoona’s shoulder. A song suddenly popped into my head, and I sang it to her:

I wanna make you smile whenever you're sad

Carry you around when your arthritis is bad

All I wanna do is grow old with you

Yoona laughed out loud and pushed me away. “Ya!!” she said, “but that song is for married couples!”

I laughed and told her, “Silly! It could also mean that we could grow old together as spinsters!”

“NO WAY,” Yoona shouted as she ran away from me, “I don’t wanna carry you when you have arthritis!”

I chased after her, still laughing over our silly discussion. “We could take care of cats! Dozens of them!”

We ran around and around in circles, with Yoona shouting that she didn’t want to end up a miserable spinster like me. Finally, too tired from running away from me, Yoona plopped down on the grass. I sat beside her, panting.

Suddenly Yoona stood up. “Come on,” she said, as she extended a hand to me.

I looked up at her, puzzled. “What?”

“It’s quite rare that I ask you to dance with me, so you better take this chance.”

“So,” I said, as I took her hand and she pulled me up, “are we going to grow old together as spinsters?”

Yoona smiled. “Sing for me first.”

As I started to sing, she placed a hand on my waist and started waltzing me around.

I wanna make you smile whenever you're sad

Carry you around when your arthritis is bad

All I wanna do is grow old with you

Then Yoona joined in:

I'll get your medicine when your tummy aches

Build you a fire if the furnace breaks

Oh it could be so nice, growing old with you

We waltzed around and around, singing the song and giggling at our silliness.

* * *

I went out of the coffee shop, with Yoona’s tissue in my hands. The cold night breeze blew in, making me shiver in my clothes.

Is… is this a sign?

* * *

Wiieeeeeeeeeee!!! I’m back!!!! Hehehehehe :3 I’ve been so busy here in our office for the past few weeks, and I totally forgot to update this story. It’s been so long since I last updated, I had to look for the outline I made for this story and I even had to re-read the whole thing. T_T

But still, thank you for posting comments that I should update soon… thank you for reminding me haha.

To all the new subscribers, hello hello! :D Thank you soooo much for subscribing, and for also posting comments. :D :D

Please do continue to post comments! :D Please anticipate the next chapters! ^^