Sister Clare had presented me with two guest posts, both of which I had refused to publish. Apart from anything else, I did not believe that Sister Clare should conduct herself on the blog as if nothing had happened.

I believed there had to be some kind of tacit acknowledgement, however oblique – and an attempt at atonement.

It irked me that it seemed like she wished to carry as per usual – when as far as I was concerned, there were now very serious questions about her credibility as a nun and as a counsellor and spiritual advisor.

Finally she wrote a confession – what I called a “so-called confession,” because I felt it still contained untruths.

The biggest untruth for me, and something which put into doubt everything which she had proffered as being true, was any reference to a weapon.

In her second email, she’d claimed that a gun had been produced. This to me elevated the whole incident to a much higher level. This was now a robbery at gunpoint. I don’t know the laws of Canada, but I would think that if a gun is produced in a robbery, then it’s considered a more serious crime, and it would attract harsher penalties.

Similarly, if a nun tells me that a gun is produced when she’s robbed of $700 for her rent and heating, then I would regard it more seriously. And I did.

However, Sister Clare was quick to point out that it was raining, there were no witnesses, and so I just have her word, her testimony, that: a) she was robbed, and b) a gun was produced.

I had since proven that her word was not to be trusted. This is why I dismissed her “so-called confession.” I didn’t believe it.

If she’d told me that she’d been panhandled by an old friend, and she’d stupidly fallen for the guy’s story, I would believe that. If she’d told me she’d left the money in a bag in a coffee shop, I would have believed that.

But there were still some inconsistencies in her original story.

She had set up various auto-withdrawals at her bank for periodic payments. Why not the rent? It comes out regularly. It’s presumably a fixed amount. Why would she withdraw rent in cash? Even if she didn’t have an auto-withdrawal in place for her rent, why not electronically transfer the funds?

Rent and heating are two very emotive words.

Had she mentioned these two words specifically to provoke the greatest possible reaction in me? That because she was robbed at gunpoint of her rent and heating, she would then be kicked out of her house in the cold?

Again I come back to my belief that this was all an attempt to solicit funds from me. I might be horribly wrong here, and I might be doing Sister Clare a huge injustice, but that’s what I thought. And nothing Sister Clare has written since has made me change my mind. If anything, it’s only reinforced that belief.

So I sent her this email –

Bill

At this point, I felt it was important that certain people on the blog – key confidantes, if you like – were made aware of what had happened. I’d become aware that Sister Clare was contacting them separately by private email, and telling a version of events which I did not believe were true.

I sent an email to one person – and I won’t say who – and told that person in detail what had transpired with Sister Clare. I contacted this person specifically because he/she had been particularly involved in the Kit the Nun campaign, and I felt a very real sense of responsibility to those people who had already donated goods and pledged cash to Sister Clare.

I could not allow this to continue, knowing what I now knew about her, and given that I was now considering not taking her on the tour.

I asked this person to hold off sending goods, and not to wire cash to Sister Clare, until these issues were revolved. I used certain words and language in that email, and I suspect it was then forwarded to Sister Clare, because she used that same language in her email to others – which I wasn’t copied on, but which was forwarded to me.

This is all getting messy now, right?

Here’s what she sent to one person –

…I apologise profusely about the lie, try to explain i just wanted support or understanding, but he says he called police, newspaper etc all over Westport and no robbery was reported-so He wants nothing more to do with me, he’s going to call XXXXX and tell XXX not to send anymore camino things (but he had already done that), I can’t go back to the forum, or be a moderator, he closed my gmail account and I can’t go on Camino and he never wants to hear from me again.

Later he says he’s going to publish my email and his so everyone on the blog knows what I did. I say fine, because I want to fix this. Later again he says he won’t do it because that would be punishment and he can’t forgive me if he punishes me

later he says write a guest blog about anything you want, and I can go on Camino. I wrote about my retreat and get-“I gave you an opportunity to write a blog after all you put me through and this is what you do? Think deeply about what you want to say here”So I write about Rachels good thoughts on community. Nothing. I ask if he wants a blog about whtever I want, or something he wants-no reply.So I thought, if this is the end I at least want to thank everyone for benig so generous and kind, Bill too, of course. Sent it, still nothing and it appears he isn’t going to print that one either.

So because after I got robbed I didn’t file a police report, said I did, a lie-and then right away said it was a lie, he doesn’t want anything to do with me, and as far as the Camino goes, I don’t know where I stand.

I’ve cried every day for a week, and I still want to offer myself to that bus.

I don’t mind writing a confessional-but then I wondered i fB ill would think I was trying to garner symaphathy. And why wouldn’t he just ask for that? I have already volunteered to write one, from the very first, because I believe in accountability-and I was wrong.Should I just write one and see if he publishes it?

I wish he would just say what  he needs me to do-I am more than willing, and I’ve told him that, too. I’m lost here-and I really am grateful for your point of view.What would you do ?

I have included all spelling and grammatical errors, and haven’t corrected anything. This gives some indication of the distress she was under when writing this.

Sister Clare then sent this email out to a whole bunch of people. I wasn’t copied –

Hi
I am sending you this email about something I feel you should know.I have written a blog about how very grateful I am to each of you, but so far Bill refuses to publish it.I have been banned from the forum, where I am deeply concerned about the prayer requests. I can’t get any answers, so I don’t know what the plan for it is.Although Bill has said if I left the blog people would miss me, he is about to do that, because he says you should be protected from me.And although he has written that I can still go on Camino, I’m pretty sure that is also being withdrawn. And I so very badly wanted to show you how to do Centering Prayer!! I give you my word before God, the Most Holy Sacrament and Blessed Virgin Mary that everything written below is true. I love you each very much, and will always keep you in my prayers.
 
I want to tell you all about something awful that happened, the stupid and wrong way I handled it, and how doing that hurt Bill, someone I love and respect. I realise I’ll likely also lose the love and respect of many of you, but I will do anything to make things right with Bill, and that comes first.And I am working with my confessor and my spiritual advisor about what I did, and will be receiving their ongoing help.
　
About a week ago I was robbed. I was coming out of the bank with my rent and heat money, was approached by someone I knew, who walked me to my car, showed me the weapon at his waist, and then stole my money.I sat in the car thinking and praying for a long time. I decided I didn’t want this guy to be prosecuted for many reasons, most of them wrong, but I still think there’s a chance that when things get better for this individual, he will eventually return the money.

I was scared and shaken up and needed to talk to someone, just to get my head on straight and settle down. And I thought of Bill right away because I trust him and he’s always been there for me.I also knew Bill is a standup guy who respects process and responsible decisions, so I did a very stupid, wrong and evil thing.Because I wanted his support and sympathy, which was selfish and manipulative and I still can’t believe I did this-when I told Bill what happened, I also lied and told him I made a police report.

Well Bill is an extraordinarily generous guy, and right away he offered to do some fundraising to get me the money I had lost-and when he said that, an awful part of me that I am deeply ashamed of, wanted that money for a moment or two longer than even I had thought myself capable of.Disgust. And I told him no-and I told him I had lied about making the police report, that I hadn’t made one.And the thing is, because I am stupid and selfish it was only then that I realised how much lying to Bill would have hurt him. Because I needed someone to make me feel better, I lied to one of the best people I have ever known.And I realise no one will likely believe this, but I didn’t turn to Bill because I wanted money.I can swear that unconditionally before the Sacred Blood of Christ.I wanted his attention and sympathy-which is worse, because that’s a piece of his heart that should only be given, not manipulated.
　
Bill decided that I should no longer be part of the forum and some other things.He has every right to deny me the trip to the Camino. What hurts so much is that I have lost my good friend Bill, and I will do whatever he needs me to do to fix that.I am hoping and praying as fiercely as I can that he will be able to forgive me, and I am hoping with all my heart that he will let me be his friend again, although I don’t deserve that.
　
I am so very sorry. I am sure some of you now think of me with disgust,and that makes me incredibly sad.I have spent a week in acts of Penance because I need and want to and because my Confessor told me to.I would have done it anyway-but its not helping. I’ve cried a river and can’t stop crying,but that doesn’t make me feel better either.All I can do in reality is go forward with my head hanging down , learn from this shameful mistake and keep praying that one day I’ll get an email from Bill, and because he has an amazing heart, it might say that he forgives me. I don’t have the right to hope he’ll want to be my friend again, but I will pray every day that the impossible happens and he does.I don’t expect him to, but maybe God will take pity on me and help.I apologise to all of you, and ask very very humbly for your forgiveness, to. Its all I can do-and believe me, I know its not nearly enough.
　
I am so sorry Bill. I am so sorry.
Sister Simon Clare 　

You’ll notice that finally there is now a mention of the weapon. But only after I had pointed out to her that it was not in her original confession. That it was a lie by omission.

When I was forwarded this email, I felt I now had no choice but to make this public, and lay everything out for you so you could make up your own mind, with all the facts.

I was concerned that in this last email above, that Sister Clare was positioning me as someone who was persecuting her unjustly. She said: I have been banned from the forum, where I am deeply concerned about the prayer requests. 

There was no way I was going to allow her to continue to have Moderator Permissions on my Forum when I knew her to be a liar. And someone not to be trusted. And for her to say she was worried about the prayer requests – well I saw that as arch manipulation, once again.

She said: Although Bill has said if I left the blog people would miss me, he is about to do that, because he says you should be protected from me.

Damn right I felt people on the blog should be protected from her, especially vulnerable and people seeking spiritual advice and counselling – I felt those people needed to know what I knew about Sister Clare.

And what about the people who had pledged thousands of dollars worth of goods, and in some instances cash, to Sister Clare. They needed to know about her, absolutely. And immediately. Yes, I did need to protect people from her – however Sister Clare in her email positioned those words in such a way as to make me look like I was unfairly hounding her.

She said: although he has written that I can still go on Camino, I’m pretty sure that is also being withdrawn. And I so very badly wanted to show you how to do Centering Prayer!!

Once again she was using her position as a nun to elicit sympathy. And in saying that I would be denying her the opportunity to give Centering Prayer sessions to pilgrims on the tour – as if I was the bad guy who would be preventing those pilgrims from their spiritual development… well, knowing everything that I now knew about Sister Clare, I did not see how I could possibly take her on the tour, presenting her as a spiritual counsellor.

So – after reading this email which she sent out to a whole bunch of you on the blog – I felt I had no choice but to now make this public. I wanted the full version of events to be available, so people could make up their own minds about me and Sister Clare. This is what I wrote to her –

Sister – 

She sent me back this – nothing but this –

http://funkypickens.com/25-funny-auto-correct-fails

So that’s The Strange Tale of Sister Clare. You now have it all. I have tried to keep this series of posts objective and unemotional. I have wanted to present the facts, and my interpretations at various points to explain my actions.

I have not doctored or edited any of the emails – except to redact the name of a person mentioned in this post – and I have not omitted anything. This is the full story.

Sister, if you are reading this, I now give you the blog – a guest post – to write whatever you want. I will not change a word. True or false. Whatever you send me, I will publish.

You now have the right of reply.

I love you
I’m sorry
Please forgive me
Thank you

Bill

Over the next couple of days Sister Clare and I swapped cordial emails.

The content was about my deleting her from the Forum, because I had given her a dedicated pgs-gmail address, and she was concerned that she might be missing out on private emails.

We sorted all that out amicably – but I was still pretty cut and bruised by what had happened. So I asked her whether she wanted to write a guest post, which I would publish on the blog.

My thinking was this: that if she took up the offer, then it might be a way whereby she could absolve herself from what she’d done. I wasn’t after a confession – and I didn’t want to tell her what to write – but i thought that she might see it as an opportunity for some level of oblique atonement.

That’s what I was hoping for, at any rate.

What she gave me was a post about communities, and local heroes. Here it is –

LOCAL HEROES

I was so impressed with Rachel’s blog, that she has inspired me to think further about some of the points she made so well. She talked about her concern that we are losing the sense of community that pervaded the neigbourhoods we grew up in.

They were wonderful, safe places to play in because they were city or suburban blocks, mini communities-places where all of the families looked after all the children and kept a careful eye on them. If you fell and scraped your knee, and your mother wasn’t home, your friend’s mother would fill in, clean your knee, put on a bandaid and give you the same kiss your own mother would have.

Motherlove is universal, and universally vital.It speaks the same language : “Mind your table manners”;” Go to the bathroom before we leave, please”,”Are your library books due?”, “Is your homework done?” Make sure you’re home as soon as the street lights go on.”

None of the mothers seemed to mind when it was their turn to watch the neighbourhood, and the kids didn’t mind whose mother was in charge on any given day, as long as one of them was.If your own mother smacked you for doing something wrong, the other kids would gather round and sympathise-and then we’d all get on our bikes and ride up to the swimming pool, or over to the park.

On Dominion Day, the original name for Canada Day, when July 1st came around, we would all gather on the sidewalks after supper, waiting for the fathers to bring out the boxes. We shared more celebrations then, so we’d pool the whole block’s fireworks, wait slapping the mosquitoes, as the fathers set up and the sky darkened enough to give a beautiful black background for the fireworks, It was wonderful.It was neighbourhood, and growing up with a sense of caring community.

Rachel goes around her own neighbourhood organising activites,and all kinds of things to teach the children the right thing to do when a neighbour needs you. In many ways, she’s teaching them how to love in a larger sense. If someone is ill, chicken soup is made and goes over to the household temporarily managing without Mum.Chores are shared; neighbourhood concerns are discussed; and care is spread around to give the neighbourhood, adults and children, that larger sense of community-and she is a hero for doing it.

Its women (and men) like her ,who are willing to fight for their neighbourhoods, and the quality of life, who will be the ones who can save us and this special part of our social history, if anyone can.And they will, because they are doing the one most important thing-teaching their children to do it too.

I worry about our communities, especially since Social Media has overtaken the skill and pleasures of talking one human being to another, face to face.”Friends” are people listed in Facebook, not flesh and blood people whom we know and see in the shops and at church on Sunday.Teenagers, (and adults too)talk to shadows, one avatar to another. You don’t have to be who you really are, so honesty goes out the window.Language skills, appropriate touching,dining out without eating like wild animals, and face to face, skin to skin contact like holding hands, are disappearing.

We have a generaton that doesn’t know how to express love unless its through some beat music adorned with obscenities. Young men don’t know about walking their date home-young women don’t know what a complement that is-or how you can stretch the date a little longer sitting on her parent’s porch swing.The teachers in our schools are expected to practically raise our children for us because we are dashing off to meetings and activities in any ‘spare’ moment we can be away from work.Without the Rachels, all we have to do is blink, and that precious and vital part of our civilisation is gone.All the things that drew out our gifts, our humour and affection, are lost.And with no new generation ready to teach us how, those things are lost forever.

So I say-thank God for the Rachels, the neighbourhood and community heroes who are working so hard to save the best of ourselves for future generations.

Right or wrong, I refused to publish it.

I was angry that she wanted to use this opportunity to write a post which would only endear her to thee PGS community. She was acting as if nothing had happened.

Now, I might well be in the wrong here, and my anger might well have misdirected me. And after all, I had said I’d forgiven her, and told her it was all over. So why was I acting like this? What was I really wanting – for her to fall on her sword publicly? Would that appease my anger and hurt?

I am as culpable as Sister Clare in all of this.

Anyway, I refused to run it – so Sister Clare wrote a second guest post, hoping that I would like this one better. I didn’t. Here is her second attempt:

Bill:

Believe it or not I’ve spent over an hour editing and cutting this in half.There isn’t anything left that can go and still say what I hoped to.Throw it out if you want to. If you decide to use it and wondered about a picture, I thought maybe a rose speaks to the ‘stop and smell the roses” theme.

Some of you know that I recently went on Retreat. I really need that time to decompress and renew my spiritual direction, so I look forward to it, knowing I will come home refreshed and ready to work again.

People have a funny way of looking at clergy -they often aren’t quite sure how to relax and talk with us, because historically clergy have been put on a pedestal.So wrong!! We aren’t any better or any different than anyone else.We are as tired, as frustrated, as misdirected, as wonderful and as obnoxious. We are certainly as fallable.We sin.

Because we are all dedicated to helping and giving love to others, we need a time away to be human together, talk about the mistakes we’ve made, the long hours and lonliness-and the unbelievable gift of being able to give our lives and hearts to God in service.I count on my Order to help me vent and regroup, confess what I’ve failed to do right and get support and ideas to help me do better.

It felt different this time. There was the same sense of coming home, the familar smells of the house and my room.My closest and dearest friend was there and the first thing he, the one who knows me best, said to me was “If you don’t start taking care of yourself you aren’t going to make it to the spring.”Not the greeting I was hoping for.

But he’s right. The last eighteen months have been a time of great change for me.I became, for the first time, a 24/7 caregiver. I’m still going out every day to help people who have different needs.I love my life, because I need to feel needed ,and go to bed feeling I’ve made a difference to someone.

But the flip side to that is:I have to be the strong one by myself, all the time; making all the decisions and plans . In many ways a caregiver has to live two lives, simultaneously and competently.

I hadn’t been taking care of myself physically or spiritually. I really believe one of the reasons the Camino is calling me is to make me take that time before I implode, or become so useless at my job that I can’t do anything good for anyone else.I had set up my life with everything except support, time off, and love coming in as well as going out.

Some of us are lucky enough to go on Camino to rediscover wonder, self , mystery and spirit -most aren’t.Without a “camino opportunity”, and even with one, its so important to step back regularly and see what is and isn’t working in our lives.It wasn’t that I thought I didn’t need anyone-I hadn’t thought, period.

The universe was not created to answer my needs and expectations and magically know what those are . I can find the spiritual connection , but the practical eludes me. I wasn’t prepared to meet the inevitable crisis that waits round the corner for everyone, sometimes God gives us enough skills and chances to get this part right ourselves.And I’m working on it.

I wish I’d been able to do it at Retreat, where getting it wrong is safe, and you have help to try again,but for some reason, or some twist in God’s plan for me,it didn’t happen.

There is a huge lesson in that.I know somehow I’m going to have to find room for myself in my life.A couple of crises have shown me that in an emergency I don’t have anyone to help ME-and I have to fix that, too . I can’t help anyone else until I start helping myself again. I just got so busy that all of that self care was put on a shelf, and forgotten.

I love you people, this PGS blog family.So, please, please-take time to care for yourselves.

I still didn’t want to publish this. I thought it was twaddle. I thought it was Sister Clare sucking up to you all, so that you’d love her. This wasn’t what I was after. I was after something which spoke indirectly of what she’d been through, and what she’d learnt – if she’d learnt anything.

But whenever I have offered someone a guest post on the blog, I have never dictated what it should be about, and I’ve never changed a word of what’s been offered. And I didn’t wish to now, with Sister Clare. However in fairness to her, because she was trying hard to please me with these attempted posts, I thought it was time I was a little more pointed in what I wanted. So I sent her this email:

Bill

Here’s how she responded –

Bill- Whatever you think is best- I’m not especially invested in this particular blog, but I wanted to give you something fairly soon and that’s what was on my mind at the time of writing.You should have seen the crap I cut out of it!

The only point I wanted to make was -make sure you’re taking care of yourself, because in my case , anyway, I really let it slip-its too easy to let that happen. But when I was driving home this afternoon, I had a couple of other ideas that are much lighter, and I’d rather send one of them.

I wanted to post to Rachel because I really like her stand on the importance of community. She did a great job, I thought. But when I wrote the reply and pressed send(or whatever it says) I got taken to login to WordPress, which is all connected with the google/ gmail, and they wouldn’t take my password or let me change it for a new one.

Then I thought- crap, Bill’s going to see that and think I was trying to sneak onto the forum or something. So, can I send you what I wanted to post to Rachel-you did say you still wanted me to post to the blog, right?Or can you tell me how I can get back in to WordPress?I tried everything I could think of.

Your email says “in the light of what happened” and I’m just checking-didn’t you say you wanted that to stay between us, and it was forgiven and over? I’m not   tyring to challenge you, here, just want to be on the same page. I do love you, Bill and I want things to be right between us.

This mess made me think of my own brother, and we haven’t spoken for more than 30 years, and I don’t want that to happen to any other relationships.I don’t think its what good, renewed people should do to each other!

 When things feel comfortable again, there’s something I wanted to ask you-but it can wait.

I didn’t reply – I was preparing to travel to London. So Sister Clare sent me this email –

Bill

Am I reading this wrong ? “Sister-I’d like to offer you the opportunity to write a guest blog.You can write about anything you want” or is it :”I have given you the opportunity to write a guest blog, in the light of what happened.”

 I’m not always the brightest, and since I think I misunderstood that you said  I could post to the blog because people would miss me-when I am locked out from doing that-I am dumber than even I thought.

So, which kind of blog would you honestly like me to write?

love
Sister

My response when I got to London –

hi sister – 

I just arrived in london yesterday and went straight into an important business lunch, then came back to the hotel and collapsed. 

Today I have another important meeting. Tomorrow I fly to porto. 

so I will wrap my head around all this when I get a chance. 

thanks
Bill

She came back with –

Bill

Sister

I then purposefully remained silent for a few days. I wanted Sister Clare to think about things. Think about what kind of guest post she should write.

A couple of days later, she sent me this – her “confession.”

I want to tell you all about something awful that happened, the stupid and wrong way I handled it, and how doing that hurt Bill, someone I love and respect. I realise I’ll likely also lose the love and respect of many of you, but I will do anything to make things right with Bill, and that comes first.

About a week ago I was robbed. I was coming out of the bank with my rent and heat money, was approached by someone I knew, who walked me to my car and then stole my money.I sat in the car thinking and praying for a long time.

I decided I didn’t want this guy to be prosecuted for many reasons, most of them wrong, but I still think there’s a chance that when things get better for this individual, he will eventually return the money.

I was scared and shaken up and needed to talk to someone, just to get my head on straight and settle down. And I thought of Bill right away because I trust him and he’s always been there for me.I also knew Bill is a standup guy who respects process and responsible decisions, so I did a very stupid, wrong and evil thing.

Because I wanted his support and sympathy, which was selfish and manipulative and I still can’t believe I did this-when I told Bill what happened, I also lied and told him I made a police report.

Well Bill is an extraordinarily generous guy, and right away he offered to do some fundraising to get me the money I had lost-and when he said that, an awful part of me that I am deeply ashamed of, wanted that money for a moment or two longer than even I had thought myself capable of.Disgust.

And I told him no-and I told him I had lied about making the police report, that I hadn’t made one.And the thing is, because I am stupid and selfish it was only then that I realised how much lying to Bill would have hurt him. Because I needed someone to make me feel better, I lied to one of the best people I have ever known.

And I realise no one will likely believe this, but I didn’t turn to Bill because I wanted money.I can swear that unconditionally before the Sacred Blood of Christ.I wanted his attention and sympathy-which is worse, because that’s a piece of his heart that should only be given, not manipulated.

Bill decided that I should no longer be part of the forum and some other things.He has every right to deny me the trip to the Camino. What hurts so much is that I have lost my good friend Bill, and I will do whatever he needs me to do to fix that.I am hoping and praying as fiercely as I can that he will be able to forgive me, and I am hoping with all my heart that he will let me be his friend again, although I don’t deserve that.

I am so very sorry. I am sure some of you now think of me with disgust,and that makes me incredibly sad.I have spent a week in acts of Penance because I need and want to and because my Confessor told me to.I would have done it anyway-but its not helping. I’ve cried a river and can’t stop crying,but that doesn’t make me feel better either.

All I can do in reality is go forward with my head hanging down , learn from this shameful mistake and keep praying that one day I’ll get an email from Bill, and because he has an amazing heart, it might say that he forgives me. I don’t have the right to hope he’ll want to be my friend again, but I will pray every day that the impossible happens and he does.I don’t expect him to, but maybe God will take pity on me and help.I apologise to all of you, and ask very very humbly for your forgiveness, to. Its all I can do-and believe me, I know its not nearly enough.

I am so sorry Bill. I am so sorry.

Sister Simon Clare

This is where The Strange Tale of Sister Clare starts to get really murky – because I didn’t believe a word of her so-called “confession.” And I say it starts to get murky, because I might be just as much at fault as her, in not believing her, and not forgiving her in the true sense of what “forgiveness” means.

Fact is, I thought it was all crap.

I did not believe she was robbed, and most importantly, she neglected to mention a very important thing – that a gun had been produced. That this was a robbery that involved a weapon.

She also failed to mention that I had forgiven her. Maybe she didn’t believe that I had – and I can understand how she might have felt that way, given how I was behaving towards her – but I did not wish to run the piece. I thought it was a lie by omission.

Like I say, I’m no good guy in all of this. I might just be a total bastard who won’t take the word of a nun that she’s been robbed at gunpoint. But I didn’t buy it – and I wasn’t going to run it.

Here’s how I responded –

Hi Sister- 

Bill

Here’s what she came back with –

Hi Bill

I appreciate you taking the time to ask what I want to do.

 Earlier you sent an email saying you had decided not to publish the letters because you felt that would be punishment, and punishment would prevent forgiveness. You had said you forgave me.

I believe, although I want to check with you, that you also said you thought the matter should remain beween us. I don’t personally think anything would be served, or the situation between us improve,by dumping this on the PGS family, or by deepening the misery of the situation.

 I wrote the confession because of your last letter. After inviting me to write an email on the subject of my choice, you were not happy with what I sent and replied that in light of what had happened and what I had put you through, I should think deeply on what I wanted to say.

I’m not quite sure what it is you do want me to say-I wish I was, because then I would know what I could do to get us back on track, or at least somewhat closer to that end.

This confession is , really a letter from me to you trying to let you know how deeply sorry I am, and that I am trying very hard to learn from this awful mistake, to do everything I possibly can, on top of giving you my word that I would never lie to you again.I don’t believe that anything can  improve by dragging this out, but only by taking what happened as a significant marker of where I begin, to do the serious personal and spirtual work of making  myself into a better person.

I am doing this with the help and under the direction of my Spritual Advisor in the Order. But I am a Christian, and in the Bible when it talks about forgiveness, it says forgiveness is given, our sin is forgotten and you begin again. God knows how incredibly fallable we are, and has some insight, I believe, on the best way to proceed after a sin , that will make it so the sin is not repeated. That’s what I’m doing.But if that’s not how you see forgiveness, it won’t mean to you what it does to me.

You have asked me to think about what I want to say. I want to say I am sorry. I was stupid and wrong and evil and selfish and sinful-and the worst is that I hurt you.I want to say Bill, what do you need me to do? I want to say what I did in the blog on blessings-that’s important.I want to get on my knees in front of you and beg for your forgiveness  and a chance to restart our friendship.

I want to say, Bill, I have never felt as small and broken and grief crippled as I do now.Whatever you want me to say, or do, will be done.But I can’t mind read and I need you to tell me what that is.If you want to shoot me through the head, I will stand still.If it would stop you from hating me, I will lick every cane toad in Australia.

I am sorry. I love you. I made an awful mistake and did a terrible thing. If it wouldn’t be taken as an insult, I would repeat the four things you say that you’ve shared on the blog when something doesn’t go well.Frankly I’d be fine with getting hit by a bus. I can’t stand myself and I need your help to make it right because I don’t know what will do that for you.

I hope I have chance to show you all these things, and that I am working on becoming a person you would want to call a friend.Will publishing the confession do that? I don’t know.Will publishing the emails do it? I don’t know.I know I want it to be time to walk away from the ugliness, but the confession is full of it so maybe that’s counter productive.

What will make you feel better? That’s what I need to know.On the 24th you emailed Susan telling her not to send any more things. That was before all this occurred-so what does that mean? Again, I don’t know.

Its your blog, Bill, the place wher you tell the world about becoming a pilgrim and encourage people to do their best at listening to the spirits that guide them.Maybe they know.Its in God’s Hands.I have to defer to what His Will would be, and to do that I have to spend more time in prayer.

Sister Clare had finally admitted she’d lied to me.

It had taken a significant amount of investigative work on my part, and a lot of time and effort, but I’d presented to her a series of means whereby I could ascertain whether or not she was telling me the truth.

In other words, she had no choice but to tell me the truth, because she knew I would find out anyway.

Just as an aside, I suspected that she was lying to me right from the very first email. Her second email confirmed it. Call it my PGS, or years working as a journalist, but I just knew.

I’d hoped that I was wrong, and so I needed to find out either way – but unfortunately my “instincts” proved to be correct.

Putting aside the nature of our relationship prior to all this – the fact that my wife and I had gone out of our way to support her in so many ways – there were things about her web of lies that particularly upset me –

For instance, when she said:

why do you want to know? Because you think I’m lying? What would that accomplish? Make up a story and tell Bill so he isn’t concerned if I’m not as present on the blog?Why?

I can’t tell you how deeply it hurts that after all this time you think I am a liar.

And also this:

And as much as I want to, I can’t share the report with you. There is confidential information about a third party in it, and violating that would compromise my vows as a nun.

In the first excerpt, she was trying to manipulate me. In the second, she was using her “vows as a nun” to gain my trust.

To be frank, at that time, both disgusted me. I have softened my position since then, but in the spirit of laying everything bare here, I will tell you my true feelings at various stages. This whole episode provoked a range of emotions in me, but later I came to see it for what it really was – but more on that later…

I gave it 24 hours, because I needed to think what to do now. Sister Simon Clare had, in her own words, told me she had lied. She had given me various reasons – that she wanted my love and sympathy. It didn’t wash.

So here’s what I wrote to her, after due consideration –

Sister – 

I have thought long and hard about this. 

You have consistently lied to me – and you finally revealed the truth only after I had placed you in such a position that you could lie no further. 

 I have to ask myself now, what other lies have you told me? 

 I can’t trust you. And you purport to be a nun…

 I have done so much to support you, to help you. 

You ask why would you do this? Lie to me this way? The implication is clear – you wanted me to give you some money. You can say otherwise, but if you look deep within your heart, that’s what you wanted. 

 Here’s what I’m going to do – 

I am going to post onto the blog my email to you this morning, and your response. I feel it is important that the PGS community know what’s been going on. And you yourself said in your email that you were okay to let the blog know what’s happened. So that blog will be going up shortly. 

I won’t ban you from the blog. But I have deactivated your account on the forum, and taken away your moderator permissions. 

I won’t withdraw my offer for you to come on the tour, if you still want to. 

And I will forgive you. 

Most of all, I will forgive you. 

Bill

I took away her Moderator Permissions on the Forum, because she was presenting there as a Spiritual Counsellor, and offering counselling and spiritual advice to others. Given that she had admitted that she couldn’t be trusted, t didn’t feel it appropriate that I continue to offer her that platform.

Again, I was conscious of my credibility in all of this. So many of you had trusted Sister Clare, because I trusted Sister Clare. She no longer held my trust. So certain things had to change. That’s why I initially told her I would put everything up on the blog. I later retracted that. I thought it would be enormously damaging to Sister Clare if all this were made public.

If I were truly to forgive her, then why punish her by making this public? It will be revealed in a later Part as to why I did finally decide to publish this all – but right at that moment, I still had some residue anger, and so I told her I would put it all up on the blog.

As I say, I later changed my mind. I had decided that this should all remain between Sister Clare and me. That, I believed, represented true forgiveness.

In saying I forgave her, I did truly mean it – and I still do. But in my mind, that didn’t mean pretending that none of this had happened. There were still quite a few unanswered questions in all of this for me.

I had determined separately that Sister Clare did in fact have a quadriplegic son, whom she was caring for at home. It was very sad that I had to check this, however online scam artists are known to put forward fabricated stories of personal harrowing circumstances to elicit sympathy and trust.

I had determined from her priest that she had gone on a retreat, and that she was a nun. So I was happy to know that, and that I hadn’t been completely duped.

And in saying that I would stand by my offer to bring her on the tour, I meant that too, at the time. I saw that as a crucial part of my forgiveness. Out of all of this sordid mess, I had to learn something, And I hoped to learn a big lesson about the nature of forgiveness.

Here’s what Sister Clare came back with – (and I have kept all the grammar, spelling mistakes, and formatting, again with no greeting or signature – )

Certainly Bill, whatever you want to do. Will you be including this email?

 You have a blessed heart, certainly to be willing to forgive me for lying to you. And although I have no right to, I ask only one small thing-and I will be praying about it too. Please just open your heart to the possiblity, that I don’t, and never did want your money-it had nothing to do with it. I  will swear to that with my hand on the Blessed Sacrament  and before God and my Mother Superior. I can look as deeply as my heart goes, and its not there. You very very kindly offered me money once before, or said you would if you had it, and I told you then I would never ask or accept your money. As you say, and I would be the first person to shout it to the world, you have always been more than kind to me. I would defend your integrity to an army of Huns.

 Jesus came to the world, thankfully to save sinners and lost souls. I have always admitted to being one of them-and I always will. It amazes me every day that I had a vocation to be a nun. Grace is astonishing. But that’s just it. I’m just a nun and nuns aren’t perfect. I never will be -because I am ,and all priests and nuns and monks and ministers and Popes are too,- imperfect and 100% fallable human beings. I can only represent the sinner who tries, and fails, and sins, and tries again. We are just people the same as any others, some worse, some better, but all the same.That’s not an excuse, just something that should be said often, I believe.

We all are capable of burning dwarves from time to time. I’ll be the first to admit to that-and I’ll still say no one has the right to judge another because of it. That does not mean to say I think you have no right to judge me-please don’t misunderstand. You do, and I’ll stand up for your right to do just that.

 Thank you, Bill. And God bless you as He has blessed me to know you.

On reading this, I immediately thought of Uriah Heep, in Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield. A masterful manipulator. She was swearing on the Blessed Sacrament, and before God and her Mother Superior that what she was now saying was true.

I’m sorry folks – I must be black hearted – because it still didn’t wash. I believed, and still do believe, that all this was a thinly veiled attempt to elicit money from me, and from you all on the blog, just like her previous reference to the $500 she needed for the Retreat, otherwise she would be expelled from the Order.

For me, she was still lying. And she was using her position as a nun to make me believe she was telling the truth.

Jennifer’s take on it was this – that if she was seeking money, then she was really seeking love, because money was a form of love, for her. And that’s all she was trying to do. She was desperately seeing my love, and the love of others on the blog.

Jennifer told me in no uncertain terms that I should not go public with any of this, I should not put the emails up on the blog, and that I was very angry. I should not make any decisions when I’m angry. I should just walk away from it all now, she said, and leave it be. You’ve proven that she’s lied, Jennifer said, surely now it’s all over.

So I sent this email to Sister Clare –

Hi Sister, 

I have decided not to publish anything on the blog. 

It’s between us. 

I can’t fully forgive you if I make this public. It would be a punishment, and I don’t want to punish you. 

Bill

Here’s what she came back with –

Bill,

You offer mercy when I don’t deserve it. Are you sure you aren’t just a little bit Christian ?

Whatever you choose to do about this whole sorry, shameful mess is up to you.I won’t protest or disgree with anything you decide. I have no right to, and I certainly don’t deserve to. But I thank you sincerely and with absolute humility.

May God continue to go with you and all those you love.

My reply –

Dear Sister, 

Thank you – as far as I’m concerned this is all over now. 

All I ask is two things – that you never lie to me again, and that you ask yourself what have you learned from all this. 

I have learned a lot. 

Bill

Notice the greeting “Dear” Sister?

That’s the first time in all this I’d put “dear” in front of her name. And as most of you who have direct contact with me know, I usually don’t put anything in front of a name – sometimes “Hi,” but very rarely “Dear.”

This showed how my heart had softened, and how I was truly trying to forgive her.

So you’d think it was now all over.

But it wasn’t. Not by a long shot…

Just to recap:

• Sister Clare sent me an email in which she said she’d been robbed at gunpoint.
• She said that her assailant took $700 – money she’d just withdrawn from the bank for her rent and heating.
• She said she filed a police report and also reported the incident to the bank.
• I said I would ask a journalist friend from the Toronto Globe & Mail to write a story, and then start up an online donation site to try and raise enough money to cover her stolen funds – but the journalist would need to have a copy of the police report.
• Sister Clare said that if she provided the police report to the journalist and it was published, she could be prosecuted for Obstruction of Justice.
• She claimed she received advice from her lawyer to this effect.
• I suggested then that she just provide the police report to the journalist, but not for publication – just so he can sight it, and verify the facts.
• She said she wasn’t given a police report.
• I queried this.
• She then told me she had left without the report.
• I told her the report was hers by right, legally – and surely it would be simple enough to just to back to the police station and ask for it. Or if she didn’t want to do that, to ask her lawyer to do it on her behalf.
• She said her lawyer informed her it would be an offense to pass it on to a third party.
• She asked to be allowed to post her story on my blog, to garner “support.”
• i told her I would allow her to do that, but only after I had sighted the police report.
• My wife and I then offered to personally send her $700 to cover the stolen money, but first we had to sight the police report.
• Sister Clare said she didn’t want me spending my money on her, and that I should put that $700 towards a nice Christmas present for Jennifer.
• I then asked Sister Clare for the name of the bank outside of which the robbery occurred. I wanted some independent verification of what happened,
• Sister Clare wouldn’t tell me.

That’s where we are so far –

By now I was suspicious. Sister Clare had consistently refused to provide me with the police report, and now she was refusing to tell me the name of her bank.

I could see no legal reason why she would want to withhold that basic information. She couldn’t be jailed for Obstruction of Justice simply by telling me what bank she used.

I wondered whether she wasn’t willing to tell me because she suspected that I wanted to check the veracity of her story – which I did.

By now I wanted independent verification of what happened. I had Sister Clare’s address from Susan Sande, who had been sending her goods as part of the Kit the Nun campaign.

So I looked up her address on Google Maps, and saw there were several churches in the town near where she lived. I figured a nun would have to be known by at least one of the churches, so I began to phone them, one by one.

I spoke to several priests, and was very discreet. I was aware that it was a small community, and I did not want to say anything that would get tongues wagging. I did not in any way wish to impugn Sister Clare’s reputation, or to suggest that she had done anything wrong.

I just wanted to find out if she had been robbed of $700 at gunpoint.

One priest i called told me that I should speak to the Father whom she worshipped with. He said they worshipped “out of the back of a garage.” He gave me the name and phone number of her priest, and so I called him.

He confirmed that Sister Clare worshipped with his group, and that he had spoken to her yesterday, on the day she was allegedly robbed. He said that she hadn’t mentioned anything about it to him at that time, and that she seemed fine. Not shaken up, or upset.

I suggested that maybe the robbery occurred after their call – but he said that if there had been anything like that happen, the news would have “spread like wildfire.” Everyone would know about it. It was a very small community, he said.

I then figured that if anything like this had happened, then the local newspaper editor would know about it. Being a former journalist myself, I know that these local editors know everything that goes on in their town.

So I called Howie Crighton, the editor of the Westport Review-Mirror.

It was a Saturday, the office was unattended, so I left a message, then followed up with an email. Howie subsequently got back to me and confirmed that he hadn’t heard of any such robbery.

This was still insufficient for me. The robbery could have happened, but they just weren’t aware of it yet. For me, the police report was key. And the bank manager. After all, Sister Clare had said that she’d filled out a police report, and that she’d reported the incident to the bank manager.

Sister Clare had finally told me the name of her bank, somewhat truculently, I thought. However it was the weekend in Westport, so I couldn’t speak to the bank manager until Monday.

As well, Westport doesn’t have a police station. I called the district police office, and again left a message.

I then called up my tv journalist friend again, in Montreal. She had a good contact in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I asked if she could ask him if any police report had been filed in the last few days under the name of Sister Simon Clare, or Alison Ferrier.

She said she’d get back to me.

Let’s pick up the emails again…

Sister, 

On November 1st, I received the following email from Sister Clare:

Hi
Just so you don’t worry if I’m not as present for a day or two. I was robbed today coming out of the bank-lost the rent and heat money, $700, no way to reclaim it. So I’m very low and working on snapping out of it. Ha Ha
Scraggy

I was shocked and confused – shocked that she would be robbed. Confused because it seemed a strange way to tell me – almost as an after-thought. If I had been robbed, I would have blurted it out up front, not put it as a secondary thought in the email, and finish with “ha ha.”

So I responded with this email:

Hi sister –
that is shocking.
tell me exactly what happened –
Have you reported it to the police?
Were you hurt?
Bill

This is what she replied:

Bill
Reported to the cops and the bank, but nobody cares-its that sigh of relief “Well if it happened to her it won’t likely happen to me.” I’ve never argued with a gun, so I wasn’t hurt-just expecting a hideous month of people wanting their money that I no longer have. I haven’t felt this low for a very long time. No Christmas this year, if I can even get straightened out  by the end of the year. I had just withdrawn the rent and heat money to drop off on my way home, as I’ve done for 15 years. I park the car a few blocks away so I get some small walking in-and there he was, shabby, desperate. I handed him my bag, as he demanded, he took only the cash, and gave it back. I went straight back to the bank-it was pouring rain, so no witnesses. The manager even said “How do I know you aren’t just saying this?”-but then, everyone knows he’s an asshole. Went to the police station, filed a report, came home, cried for a very long time.

Here was my immediate response:

dear sister –
thank God you weren’t shot.
you must have been shaken up.
is that a particularly dangerous area? Or did he follow you from the bank?
I have a journalist friend works for the Toronto Globe & Mail – let me know the police station, and the officer you gave your report to – with phone number – and I might see if I can get him to do a story on this, and get your money back through public donation. Or at least start an online collection – like that go-fund-me. It’s worth a try…
bill

This is what Sister Clare came back with –

I am so touched that you would think of trying to raise the money for me. I wish the world were that good! I can’t give any details, I was told, on the chance that one day he might be caught and prosecuted. I believe their hope is that this guy will try it again and they will catch him. If there was publicity it would forewarn him. I don’t know what its like where you live, but here, once you file a police report the information is sole property of the Crown. I went through a similar merry go round with the attempted murder charges years ago.

Its not a dangerous area, just an empty one. they say here that once the summer tourists are gone you could shoot a cannonball down the main street and never hurt a soul-its true. There are only 700 in the village, most retirement age , and over half of them are on their way south for the winter. They have condos etc in Florida and Texas-known as “snowbirds” here, as they always leave before the snow and return when it has melted. There are any number of places he could have waited to see someone leave the bank, and follow them. And there are several tiny villages he could try it in. I’m afraid what the police told me is true, “There’s no help for you, ma’am” Ma’am!!!!! Couldn’t even sharpen up enough to call me Sister!

My response:

HI Sister –
what I’m thinking is this – if I can get the reporter to speak to the police, and keep it non-specific, then we could get some publicity and use that to raise money for you online. 

Remember that homeless person who found that stash of money and returned it? Someone started a donation website and the guy got hundreds of thousands of dollars. We could do the same for you – nun with debilitating injuries, looking after a son who is a quadriplegic – no money for rent or heating – virtually destitute – then held up at gunpoint and her life threatened. It’s a great harrowing story. But I would need that reporter to act on this, and he would need to speak to the police.

It could literally be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars to you sister, if we can get it into the mass media. So please reconsider – and I can get onto the journo and he can speak to the cops, and then to you to get a full interview, photos, etc…
Bill

Her response:

Bill

Please don’t think its me being difficult. I checked with my lawyer this morning just to be sure, and I really can’t give you any information involvoing (sic) the police or their report. There is nothing I wouldn’t give to make this different. Already I’m getting threatening emails about money- I put some bids on some inexpensive ebay items for Christmas gifts that I can’t pay for  now, so that goes against my credit rating. I can live with being shut out of ebay, but I used to have  perfect credit.

This morning a bill payment came through my account at the bank and because I can’t cover it, the bank has now charged me a $45 NSF fee that I will be getting several more times as, obviously none of the bill payments on auto withdrawal are going to be covered. And the bank knows I was robbed, but can’t turn down the opportunity to make more money.

In the 80’s a monk from my Order who lived in New York was murdered for his welfare cheque. Today, when I can’t stop crying, it seems to me he got the better deal.

My response:

Hi Sister

do you have a copy of the police report you filed?
If you have that, and you’re happy for me to post it, I can start up a GoFundMe website to collect donations.
That won’t contravene any laws.
I’d be interested to read the report anyway… it sounds truly shocking, what happened to you…

Bill

Here’s what she came back with:

No-I wasn’t given a copy. The best I can do is retell or blog my story

This was strange, I thought. You file a police report for armed robbery – and you aren’t given a police report? That seemed very odd to me. At this point I phoned a good friend who lives in Montreal. She’s a very experienced television journalist and documentary maker. She told me that if you lose your wallet on a bus in Canada, you are given a police report.

So I questioned Sister Clare more closely –

Hi Sister –

Whenever you fill out a police report, you’re always given a copy as a matter of course. 

Can you please give me the name of the police station where you filed the report, and the name of the officer? 

 Why can’t you get your lawyer to get you a copy? 

I hope you understand that I’m trying to do everything possible to get you some money, but I can’t do anything until I get a copy of that police report. 

 Bill

Here was Sister Clare’s response:

Bill, believe me I am aware that my fate basically lies in your hands, and I am grateful. I intend to get a copy of the report, but will have to recheck with my lawyer-because and I am not happy about this – I think giving it to a third party with intention to publish is an offense. I am sure the only reason I didn’t get a copy was my rush to get out of there, and an oversight on their part. There is also a friendly (I think) police chief in town whom I will speak to about the consequences of “losing” my copy.

And if nothing can be done, I would like your nod to blog about what happened and the non-co-operation of the agencies involved-because I think if I got robbed on the Camino, people would come forth to help-and I don’t understand why it can’t be the same way in the larger world.

This now started to concern me. Was Sister Clare wanting to post on my blog that she was robbed at gunpoint, so that “people could come forth to help…”?

What sort of help? Donations? Like we did with the Kit the Nun campaign.

By now there were enough inconstancies in her story to make me very wary – and so I pushed harder to get the police report. I did not want her to use my blog to post anything that I couldn’t prove to be true and factual.

Also, I was curious because suddenly her email name had changed, to Alison Ferrier – not Sr Simon Clare, as it always had been. So here’s how I responded:

Hi Sister – 

a quick question: your email has the name Alison Ferrier on it, yet it’s the same underlying email address.

Is that your name or someone else’s? 

Bill

Her reply:

Why do you ask?

My reply:

Your name on your email address is Alison Ferrier. It used to be Sr.Simon – I want to know who Alison Ferrier is – and why you would be emailing under that name…

Why won’t you tell me?

 Bill

Her response:

This is a bizarre story about a nun, a gun, and a hatful of lies.

It involves deceit, masterful manipulation, and Holy vows before the Throne of God.

Let me tell you The Strange Tale of Sister Clare…

The internet can be a dark and murky place. We form friendships, we share secrets, we give over our trust to people we think we know from hours spent with them on the internet.

But do we really know them?

Who, for instance, is Sister Simon Clare?

I thought I knew, but now I’m not so sure…

She came onto this blog suddenly very early on, and quickly established a strong presence. It was apparent to me that she would continue to have a presence.

So Jennifer and I called her on the phone, to check her out.

We had a long conversation, and she seemed the real deal. Later I had a second conversation with her, and even though there were a couple of things that niggled with me – things that didn’t quite add up – I put them aside, because her writing on the blog was so persuasive.

I wondered why she was staying at home for instance, and not in a monastery or a church. She said she had a quadriplegic son, and she had been given special dispensation to stay at home and look after him.

Okay.

Then there was the issue with her gravatar – her picture attached to her posts. I asked for one, but she said she didn’t have a photo of herself. I asked that she take a photo with the camera on her phone, or from the webcam on her computer.

She didn’t want to do that.

After several requests and quite a few weeks, she finally produced a photo. Two photos. She said they were the only shots she had of herself. No others.

Well, I certainly was surprised at the photo. She was beautiful, and had a clear bright energy radiating out from her picture. She was everything you would want a nun to look like in a photo.

I remember when the photo finally went up on the blog, everyone expressed similar surprise, and delight.

But why had it taken so long? And why only two shots?

I put it down to her being a nun, and not having easy access to pictures of herself.

And then Sister Clare started telling me, off her own volition, how poor she was. And how she had no money – that nuns received no payment from the church. She told me that the welfare system in Canada didn’t provide enough money to adequately look after her handicapped son, and that she mainly survived on a small monthly stipend provided by her doctor.

At the time, I wondered: Is she wanting me too to provide her with a monthly stipend? If not, then why mention it?

Remember, I’d never asked her about any of this. She’d taken it upon herself to tell me off her own bat.

She told me other things too about her personal background, which I won’t go into here – but I will just say that her stories were truly harrowing.

She also told me about how ill she was. She detailed how she had to have 50 injections a week for an ailment that she never specified. This from the doctor who provided her with the stipend. You would have to have a heart of ice not to feel enormously sorry for Sister Simon Clare.

I began to give her more prominence on the blog – and I gave her several guest posts. She became very popular. You all loved her.

When I started the forum I gave her Moderator Permissions – and in fact I created her own forum for her, for Prayer Requests.

In her comments on the blog, and in private emails to me, she told of things she’d done in the past, both as a nun and before she joined the church, which surprised many of us. She had lived a full and colourful life.

Some of you I know expressed surprise at some of the things Sister Clare claimed to have done, or experienced. But none of us questioned her credibility. She was a nun, after all.

And nuns don’t lie.

In the first telephone conversation we had, Sister Clare had told Jennifer and me that she’d always wanted to walk the Camino. That it was her one big dream. But she had no money. She was saving what little she could and she hoped that one day she would get to become a Camino pilgrim.

When I later got a call from my travel agent, asking if I’d be interested in organising a Camino tour. I immediately thought of Sister Clare. I thought this would be a perfect way to make her dream a reality – I would do a tour, and cover the costs for her to come along.

I knew that her health issues might be problematic, so I organized to have a van on back-up support the entire way. This was principally for Sister Clare’s benefit.

And so I committed to the tour, and asked Sister Clare if she wanted to come, and be a tour leader along with Jennifer and myself. I told her we would cover all her costs.

Of course she jumped at it, and offered to hold daily Centering Prayer sessions for the pilgrims on the tour.

But there was a problem. She had no hiking gear, no clothing, nothing. And she had no money. So one of the contributors to the blog, Susan Sande, offered to coordinate a campaign whereby we ask for donations of gear and cash for Sister Clare.

And so I started up the “Kit the Nun” campaign.

Some of you swung into it with enormous generosity. Susan was sent a wide range of goods, including boots, a jacket, backpack – the works. Also a brand new camera worth about $850, an iPod Nano, an iPod Touch – and some of you even wanted banking details to wire money.

I put a value on the goods donated at a couple of thousand dollars, at least.

Still, the private emails from Sister Clare kept coming, telling me how hard her life was, how impoverished she was, and what a struggle each day was. She would give me gruesome details of the difficulties she was having with her quadriplegic son.

Behind the scenes, I was having to do some damage control with Sister Clare. She believed certain people on the blog weren’t treating her with due respect, and she complained bitterly to me about their treatment of her.

She asked me to admonish them.

At the time, I thought she was over-reacting, and I dealt with these episodes in a manner I thought appropriate. But I wondered about Sister Clare’s state of mind. It seemed she was very reactive and overly sensitive. I was also surprised at the level of anger she was directing towards some of you on the blog. I put it down to her health problems.

And then her Retreat came around.

She emailed me saying that she had no money and she needed $500 immediately – $250 for the cost of the retreat, and $250 to pay her heating. She told me that if she didn’t pay the $250 for the retreat, she would be expelled from the Order.

She said that she’d lent $500 to a friend who hadn’t paid her back.

Whilst she never explicitly asked me for money, the email was implicitly clear. Why email me telling me this if she didn’t want me to spring for the $500?

I felt very uncomfortable having someone I’d met on the internet talking about money this way. I told her I wasn’t in a position to cover the $500, and she emailed back saying: Oh Bill, I would never ask you for money. You’ve already been so kind to me.

Presumably she found the $500 from somewhere because she attended the Retreat. At least, I assume she attended the Retreat. She told me she did. And at that stage, I was taking Sister Clare at her word.

And then shortly after returning, about two weeks ago, she emailed me to say she had just withdrawn $700 from her bank, and she’d been robbed. At gunpoint.

Hmmm, I thought.

Just before the Retreat she was destitute with no money, now she’s withdrawing $700 from her account? She told me later that the friend who owed her the $500 still owed her that money. So where had the $700 come from?

This is Part One of The Strange Tale of Sister Clare.

As some of you might know, I am currently traveling, and have only intermittent access to the internet. I will post further Parts progressively, when I have the chance.

I won’t respond to comments or questions until I’ve laid out the entire strange tale of Sister Clare…

As many of you who read this blog know, I am a big supporter of dwarfs.

LITTLE PEOPLE HAVE BIG HEARTS – that’s something I think should be emblazoned on bumper stickers and t-shirts.

Now there’s a book out on the dignity of dwarfs – Little People, Big Lives. 

Written by Carole Lander, she states:

I was particularly angered by the incident at St Kilda Football Club’s Mad Monday celebration when player Clinton Jones took a lighter to the clothes of dwarf entertainer Blake Johnston.

This action highlights a certain prejudice against people living with this particular physical difference. Johnston uses the stage name Mr Big and works under the auspices of a firm called Dwarf My Party.

An internet search for ”dwarf entertainment” reveals an interesting range of services on offer from performers of short stature.

While they include TV commercials and corporate functions, they also list bucks’ parties, hens’ nights, birthdays, Valentine’s Day and weddings – functions at which they will dress up in costume to entertain the guests. The directors of Dwarf My Party conceived this business idea in 2006 and their company has now spawned several more.

http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/dignity-of-dwarfs-is-a-very-big-deal-20131109-2x8la.html

Anyone wishing to buy me a Christmas present – they now know what to get me…

– in a low slung coupe when the track turns crap because you will do some serious damage to the underside and it may not be covered by insurance.

More on that later…

What is it about the Portuguese people that makes them so friendly, so gracious, so welcoming.

Jennifer and I were frazzled when we arrived at Villa ‘d Arcos – a beautiful little family run hotel on the outskirts of the small township of Arcos.

The hotel is right smack bang on the Camino – pilgrims walk right past the front door – although they are very scant on this part of the Portuguese Way this time of the year, it seems. Today, we did not see one pilgrim between Vila do Conde and Barcelos.

The hotel has only five rooms, and because we were the only guests last night, we were upgraded to a suite. I’ll write more about our time there on the Road Food blog – (http://www.billsroadfood.com) – but I’ll just say here that last night has to rate as one of the best nights I’ve ever spent on the road, period.

After a breakfast of fresh fruit salad, freshly squeezed orange juice, cold hams and cheeses, and some much needed coffee, Jennifer and I headed off to Vila do Conde.

Yesterday at Porto airport the Hertz guy kindly upgraded me to a Renault 208CC coupe.  Seems like right at the moment I’m carrying an energetic bubble over my head saying UPGRADE ME, UPGRADE ME.

I’m not fussed about coupes. I think they’re stupid. I can’t see the need for them. In the pouring rain yesterday the Hertz guy showed me in painstaking detail how to take the top down on this car.

“In case the sun comes out,” he said optimistically. “And you want wind in your hair.”

I told him I didn’t want wind in my hair. It didn’t suit me. If I get wind in my hair it might blow all my hair off my head. I said I didn’t want to return the car in a week, wearing a rug.

Undaunted, and with the rain soaking us both, he explained that if I wanted to take the top down, then I couldn’t have any luggage in the trunk.

Given that we’re traveling with luggage, and there’s no room in the backseat in this stupid car to store luggage, (or at least only enough room for someone who has recently been to Afghanistan and trodden on a landmine,) I again told him that I didn’t think I would be taking the top down.

(I should state here that Jennifer has told me quite emphatically that if I keep this reference to a legless war veteran from Afghanistan, then she is having nothing further to do with this blog.)

Anyway, I didn’t like this coupe. To sit behind the wheel you had to drop down into it. I don’t believe you should have to either drop down into a car or climb up into a car. Both are undignified. You should just get into a car.

This is why I hate 4WDs. You have to climb up into them. There are other reasons why I hate 4WDs too – one being that if you back out of your driveway and you accidently run over your child, then the poor little bugger is only good for stock. Or pet food. But if you’re driving a smaller car, then you’ve probably only just dented the little tyke.

Back to Portugal…

Our plan on this trip is to follow the Camino from Porto up to Santiago, and to find suitable hotels for the tour, good restaurants, and see what sections of the route might prove problematic for our pilgrims.

The first night’s stay on the tour will be in Vila do Conde, a beautiful town on the coast – so that’s where we went.

As it turned out the weekly markets were in full swing, so we wandered through, looking at the various stalls selling clothing, cooking utensils, fruit and vegetables, pastries and bread, and all manner of nick-naks.

There was a stall selling dried cod – the fish having come from Norway. And I marveled at the fruit and vegetables. They looked real. They looked like they’d been grown in a garden, not genetically modified in a laboratory and buffed up to look good in a supermarket display.

We then had coffee and a pastry made of hazelnut meringue, with orange jam inside. Along with the two coffees – a latte and a cappuccino – the bill came to €2.70. I’d forgotten how cheap Portugal is.

We then went to the Information Office, found out which was the best hotel in town, walked there and checked out the rooms, and made a note that this is where we would all stay the first night out from Porto.

We then made our way down to the water. The town sits on an inlet, and high on a hill is a magnificent monastery. At the base of the hill are a line of shops and restaurants, and it was outside one of these that I saw a man huddled over a smoking barbeque.

We walked up and I saw that he was barbequing pork ribs. So we walked in and ordered lunch. Again, I’ll detail this in the Road Food blog, but the ribs were part of the set lunch menu. And needless to say, they were delicious.

I talked to the manager of the restaurant, and made arrangements for us to have dinner there when we return on the tour on April 6^th.

Then we headed off to Barcelos, which is to be our 2^nd night stop-over.

Jennifer and I stayed in Barcelos in May of this year, and we discovered an amazing Portuguese Grilled Chicken restaurant. Just like Bresse in France, Barcelos is famous for its chickens. Which means this restaurant has to have the best Portuguese Grilled Chicken in the world.

We’re eating there in a few hours.

However, let me take you back to the lengthy title of this post.

I wanted to follow all the yellow arrows to see what the route was like – yet I’d forgotten that I was in a car this time, and not on foot. So when the yellow arrows directed me off the tar and onto a muddy and rock strewn track, I was determined to keep following.

Did I say how much I love 4WDs for their high clearance?

This stupid coupe was so low to the ground it would bump its belly on a snail if you drove over it.

Against Jennifer’s protestations, which quickly transitioned into panicked shrieks and then involuntary gasping, I gunned this car along this impassable track.

Earlier this year, nothing stopped me walking the Camino Frances, and today nothing was going to stop me driving the Camino Portuguese.  It was only when I hit a rock and heard a horrible metallic crunching from underneath that I finally did stop.

Oh yes, and it was hard driving with Jennifer pummeling me with her fists.

I’d just got through a section that would have stopped some drivers on the Dakar rally. But up ahead the track dropped steeply. It was muddy and rocky. There was no way this stupid girly car could make that drop.

(By the way, Jennifer has said that if I use the word “girly” in this context, she will have nothing further to do with this blog.)

So I did a U turn – which meant renegotiating the Dakar Rally section again. I handed Jennifer her Kindle and asked her to look up Barcelos Hotels in the Lonely Planet Guide to Portugal.

So she was otherwise occupied when I gunned this stupid girl car back over that part of the track, this time neatly missing that miscreant rock which most probably had cracked the diff.

We got through it, and arrived in Barcelos, the car covered in mud.

Here’s the thing – if I return the car to Hertz covered in mud, then they’ll put it on a hoist and do a full check of the vehicle, including the underside. They’re bastards like that.

But if I get the car washed and return it sparkling clean, then it’ll probably be three or four rentals before the engine seizes. And they’ll never trace it back to me.

Unless one of you tells them!

Just remember, I have PGS. I will know which of you has dobbed me in…

I am now starting to catch up on entries to my Road Food blog.

Jennifer and I, when we left Mudgee, took a detour on the way to the airport and drove through those parts of the Blue Mountains at the back of Sydney that had been ravaged by the recent bushfires.

We came across a cafe, high on a ridge, and stopped in. As it turned out, this cafe became the epicentre of the fires – and for five intense days the owners looked after all the crews and media by feeding them, and making them coffees.

Amazing people. Very humble, self deprecating – real Aussies.

I’ve posted their story here –
http://www.billsroadfood.com/2013/11/08/bushfire-hero-tucker/

I will now start to catch up on some of the food stories on this trip, including London and now Arcos, at the start of our Portuguese adventure.

Bookmark the Road Food blog, because I think there will be some interesting stuff come up on this trip, and on my travels generally. The blog is not so much about the food, but the unique stories BEHIND the food, and the experience of finding and enjoying the food.

http://www.billsroadfood.com