Take Lord, Receive . . . Our Friend Lou Anglin, BVM
Lou Anglin, BVM (above) served as Vice President on the BVM Council from 2016 until her passing on May 29, 2022.
As we have celebrated the gift Lou Anglin, BVM was to our community, I heard more than once the observation that, “Lou was like Mary Frances Clarke—only much taller!” It gives voice to a thought I have had in these years that I have lived with Lou. Allow me to explain.
We do not know what Mary Frances was like in the classroom but in “On Regarding Schools,” sisters were directed that teaching “should done in a kindly, not cold, or formal manner, but with a kind interest. . .” (#15). I believe two phrases reflect the heart of Lou’s teaching philosophy: “love ’em up” (this is what they will remember the most) and “you go, girl” (she gave her students wings).
Her roles in educational ministry as teacher, coach, and campus minister reflected the holistic education of mind, body, and spirit outlined by Mary Frances. From a book of letters and drawings that her sixth graders gave to her, one can discern Lou’s manner in the classroom.
Along with remembering her for challenging tests and teaching “things I did not know how to do, like being quiet in class,” her students recalled the ways Lou made learning fun. They loved how she would lose pencils in her hair and wondered how many she could hide there. Playfully tossing erasers, standing on chairs, and her insistence on cheering for the Cubs deep in Cardinal’s territory lightened the mood. I am not sure how one makes a project on the first World War a student favorite or how untangling a human knot can be a review game, but she did both. Educational ministry unleashed her creativity.
When Lou chose her early ministries, she purposefully avoided Chicago, preferring Alabama and then St. Louis since there were fewer BVMs in the South. Those places became her “frontier.” Dubuque, too, could wait. They might not have known it, but it was always her plan to eventually return to watch over her parents in their later years. That she died before her mother was truly her greatest heartache.
Like Mary Frances, Lou would turn her gifts to internal service in response to the call of the congregation—first in initial membership and then as vice-president. It is not always easy to identify her contributions. She worked quietly and any achievement she might have claimed as her own she always insisted was “all of us” . . . “we did it together.”
As with Mary Frances, humility was part of the fabric of Lou’s being. She had no need to ever take credit. Lou was unfailingly collaborative—it was always “we” and never “I.” Her own holiness she would ascribe to those who have surrounded her with love, beginning with God and her parents.
Because Lou preferred interacting with people on a deeper level than most formal social events allowed, she felt ill-suited for such events. In leadership she attended such events for the value of building relationships in the larger community, but cocktail and dinner fundraisers were not her natural environment. I can’t imagine Mary Frances enjoying them much either.
Lou absolutely loved her ministry working with the sisters at Mount Carmel Bluffs—what Mary Frances would call caring for the sisters who were “at home.” Lou considered helping sisters through the transitions of retirement and aging one of her great privileges. Reconciling sisters to the changes involved in moving from running our own health care to a Presbyterian Homes & Services facility was work well suited to her patient, understanding, and collaborative spirit. Not being able to see this project to completion was another great disappointment. I am sure she continues
to watch over it with great interest.
In many ways Lou was a person of habit—no talking before coffee, a daily walk, and a wind down before bed with a puzzle and a book. Saturday became an unofficial community night with a movie, popcorn, and beer. Life balance was sacred to her—time at the Two Spiders Lodge and lake in Hayward, Wis., was part of this balance.
For a number of years, Lou and Kathy Carr, BVM annually came to speak to my classes at Clarke University on living nonviolently. My students always remembered the way Lou connected being nonviolent with others to being gentle and compassionate to oneself.
Lou preferred to speak and act slowly but deliberately. She took her time. Perhaps this is why a small stuffed sloth inhabited her room—a reminder that it was okay to resist being rushed. An exception was made in matters of justice which required urgent action. Lou was present at many demonstrations in Dubuque, ensuring BVM presence at these events. She was passionate that the
congregation be both kind and just to our own employees.
An essential part of Lou’s care for self was her faithful tending of friendships. Her life was rich with friendships—with sisters, present and former colleagues, and school friends from each part of her life. It is hard to write any tribute to Lou without mention of her college group, the “Mobies,” who were present to one another through the years.
The fast progression of her cancer and the impact it had on her ability to listen and speak did not allow Lou to have the final visits with friends, sisters, and colleagues she would have wanted. But all words she wanted to say were concentrated in one “thank you.”
Following the spirit of Mary Frances Clarke, Lou’s most important routine was her morning prayer. Two quotes decorated the walls of her prayer corner “Be still and know that I am God.” (Ps 46:10) and “Walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8). She lived the words she prayed. Lou’s spirituality matched Mary Frances in her utter confidence in God that “all would be well.” Her favorite gospel was Jesus’ direction to learn from the birds and the flowers of the field not to be anxious or to worry, for God would always provide (Matt. 6:25-30). She used this passage for both her final vows and funeral.
This confident trust even in the midst of the greatest difficulties is reflected in one of Lou’s favorite songs, Woyaya by Osibisa:
We are going
Heaven knows where we are going . . .
It will be hard we know
And the road will be muddy and rough
But we’ll get there
Heaven knows how we will get there
We know we will.
If our first members knew this song, they might have sung it on their way to Philadelphia after losing their money in the Atlantic or as they traveled up the Mississippi toward an unknown future. I suspect that leadership provided Lou and her companions with a number of occasions to join their voices in song.
Lou’s close friendship with God and utter hope in God’s life-giving love carried her through her final months. Although she wished she would have more time, she was grateful for the time she had. She was more worried about those left behind—especially her mother.
The God who held her in life would hold her in death, and in the communion of saints she would join family and friends. As she said, “I have had a good life, and I will be fine.” Ignatius’ “Take Lord, receive . . .” gave voice to her final prayer.
As central as prayer was for Lou, her favorite story of Mary Frances Clarke was one she admitted she may have embellished. It is a memory of Mother Clarke stopping prayer to help unload a wagon. Our Irish roots give BVM spirituality a strong pragmatism. One does what is to be done. Prayer is the ground of humble service—a service so innate and ordinary that it is barely noticed. But we have noticed Lou’s steady and quiet care for others.
We see the many ways Lou’s consistently kind and gracious ways have left a mark on the BVM congregation. She has taken root in our hearts. She will insist that nothing she accomplished was her achievement alone. Mary Frances would do the same. Even so, we know that we have been changed by the unassuming way she generously shared the gifts God gave to her.
All our words to Lou can also be summarized in “thank you.” As we pray, “and let perpetual light shine upon her”—Lou, now with Mary Frances and a whole company of BVM saints, echoes back the same prayer for us.
This story was featured in:
FALL 2022: Together we participate in God’s creating action, transforming the earth. (BVM Constitution #11)
In this issue of Salt, we celebrate the legacy of our beloved Lou Anglin, BVM; the 103rd birthday of Jean Dolores Schmidt, BVM; fifteen 70-year-Jubilarians, and our first in-person Assembly since COVID-19. We look to the future as we continue to adapt our mission, sponsor women in pursuit of education, support children in need, and advocate for justice in society and in the Catholic Church.
If you would like to receive Salt, contact the Office of Development for a complimentary subscription at development@bvmsisters.org or 563-585-2864.