It is a fact that most everyone is finding it so hard to practice the virtue of humility - I personally do - probably because by his very nature man is a proud creature. It has been said that pride is the root of all evils while humility is the foundation of all virtues. That is probably the reason why it is difficult to be truly humble. Once we even start saying we have acquired humility we begin to realize we do not genuinely possess it.
In my own personal experience for instance, whenever I beg the Lord to make me humble, He immediately responds to my prayer. He places me right away in very humbling circumstances or situations and sometimes when that happens I find myself complaining out loud to Him. So, where is true humility in that?
Anyway, I can easily relate to the Nun in the story below. The advice of the street sweeper gives very good insight for all of us on how we can begin to practice this particular virtue, thanks to Fr. Nil.
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SMALL IS BEAUTIFUL [1]
By Fr. Nil Guillemette, S. J.
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"In humility count others better than yourselves." - (Ph 2:3)
"My son, conduct your affairs with humility, and you will be loved more than a giver of gifts." - (Sir 3:17)
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IMPERIAL DE LOS REYES WAS by nature a proud woman. Understandably then, when she entered a contemplative order at eighteen and perceived how her pride was an obstacle to any real progress in living out the Gospel, she set about changing herself, fiercely determined to become humble, whatever the cost.
And, for the following thirty years, she humbled herself in every conceivable way. Not only did she always seek the last place and the most distasteful tasks in the monastery, but she also frequently meditated on those passages of the Gospel which enjoin the necessity of becoming small in order to enter the Kingdom of heaven. However, her chief occupation was to dwell on her sinfulness so as to succeed in despising herself more thoroughly. Unfortunately, all these efforts seemed to produce little result. After thirty years of soul-searching and breast-beating, she was still very proud and well aware of it.
One day, as she was near despair over her incurable pride and meditating in her cell about what she should do to finally become small in her own eyes, she heard the voice of God speaking in her heart with utterclarity.
It said, "Imperial, go to the window and you will see a truly humble soul." Stunned by this strange occurrence, she held her breath, unable to believe what was happening to her. Since she was a verylevel-headed person, she was not one to lay much store on so-called heavenly voices. But then, to her amazement, she heard the voice once more, this time with a ring of authority that no created agency could ever contrive. "Obey, Imperial," it said, "for such is my wish. Go to the window and look out on the street. There you will see a truly humble soul."
The persuasiveness of that voice was overpowering. There was only one thing to do, and that was to comply. And so, somewhat dazed by this strange experience, Imperial stood up and walked to the window of her cell. It looked out on the adjacent street, a busy thoroughfare alive with vehicles and pedestrians. As the nun peered through the window, she immediately spotted a young woman, a street sweeper working her way towards the corner. "Yes, that is she," confirmed the voice, "go to her and learn from her." At this point Imperial felt at a complete loss. Was it possible that an uneducated girl could teach her, a middle-aged contemplative, what she had been unable to learn after thirty years of constant effort? Yet, thecommand of the voice was so peremptory that she was left with no other choice but to obey. So she left her cell and hurried into the street.
Naturally Imperial had no idea on how she would broach the subject of her inquiry, or even how she would strike a conversation to begin with. But luck was on her side - or was it Providence? The moment the girl saw the nun approaching, her face lit up. She interrupted her sweeping at once and said, "Oh, excuse me, Sister. I was hoping to meet a Madre this morning, and there you are." She was a rather plain girl in her early twenties, but her radiant smile and her natural gracefulness amply compensated for her lack of beauty. Imperial was grateful that her task was thus made easy. She smiled back nervously and asked, "Is that so? Well, then, what can I do for you?"
It turned out that the girl, who introduced herself as Parva, was anxious about the health of a sister-in-law who was pregnant and had a difficult time of it; she wished to have "special prayers" said for herrelative. Imperial promised to pray faithfully for that intention in the weeks to come. Then she adroitly shifted the conversation. "In return, Parva," she said, "perhaps you could do me a favor."
"Of course," replied the girl eagerly, "what is it?". Then Imperial explained as simply as shecould that the Madres too need other people's prayers. Take her, for example. She had tried for many years to obtain the grace of humility and was still seeking it. "Believe me, Parva," she concluded, "I am still veryfar from being humble."
While the nun was talking, Parva had resumed her work. On these last words of her new acquaintance she briefly glanced up and asked, "How is that possible? I thought that humility was very easy to acquire in thereligious life." The nun smiled at this popular misconception. "Oh no, Parva, it isn't. We do have lots of exercises of humility, we are even taught to seek humiliations, but that is very different from humilityitself." The girl took on a puzzled air. "An exercise of humility? What is that?" she inquired.
While the young street-sweeper pursued her task, the nun explained to her what the phrase meant. Thus, without having planned to do so, she found herself describing exactly what she herself had been doingfor the past thirty-years. While she was talking, she observed that the girl wielded her broom with energy, yet managed to keep the dust at a minimum. She also smiled sweetly at those vendors or bystanders whom she had to disturb as she proceeded with her work. It seemed as if she regarded everybody as her social superior. This struck Imperial very much because, try as she may, she had never sincerely believed herself to be inferior to anyone.
When the nun concluded her explanation of what is meant by "exercise of humility," she added, "Do you understand now, Parva?"
"Oh yes," answered the girl, "but - " she paused for a moment, as if to silence an objection. Then she simply smiled and said nothing. Imperial was curious to know what the girl was about to say. So she prodded her on.
"Tell me, Parva, don't you have any difficulty in being humble?"
The girl laughed gaily at the odd question. "Well," she answered with a twinkle in her eyes, "I must say I did have for a while. But then I discovered why and changed my way of doing things. Since then, I don't know if I have made any progress in humility, but it doesn't seem important to me anymore."
Imperial was intrigued by these words. How she longed to know the secret of this simple street-sweeper! "Come on, Parva," she urged, "share your experience with me!" The girl laughed delightedly again, amused at the prospect of being interviewed by a Madre. How could she, a mere street-sweeper, teach anything to a mature contemplative nun? But, sensing the earnestness of Imperial's request, she nevertheless set aside her reluctance and began to speak with great simplicity.
"Well, Sister," she said, "when I heard the priest read in the Gospel that one has to become small in order to enter the Kingdom of heaven, I started to look down on myself and I became very busy with the thought of making myself small. But that did not seem to work out very well. I soon noticed that, despite all my good will and my best intentions, I was still concentrating on myself. Of course, it was always for the purpose of blaming myself for my sins and of realizing how weak I was. But that did not succeed in changing me. It was, you know, like in one of those plays where the hero is very wicked. I was the wicked hero of my play. But I was still at the center of the stage."
Parva smiled to herself at the memory of her naivety. In her concentration, she had forgotten her work, her broom standing idle in her hands. How clearly she recalled the insight that had brought her to changeher outlook! "Well," she resumed, glancing at the nun with a smile of apology for her boldness in speaking so much of herself, "I finally understood that looking down on myself was useless. Instead, I began tolook up to the people around me. You see, Sister, whenever I look at a person with reverence and love, I see that person as taller than I am. And so now I have no more difficulty in feeling small." She concluded with acomic shrug of the shoulders, as if to deprecate her discovery, "I guess it's all a matter of where you look, Sister."
Imperial said nothing more. She knew in her heart that the girl was right. Besides, she could see with her own eyes what the course followed by Parva could do to a person. For indeed, here was someone whose every spontaneous gesture expressed naturalness, freedom from pride, utter simplicity. As the voice had said: a truly humble soul.
The nun felt an immense gratitude for what the street-sweeper had taught her unwittingly. In an impulsive reaction of affection she hugged the girl right there on the street corner. "Thank you very much, Parva,"she said with tears in her eyes, "I will remember faithfully what you just shared with me." Then she returned to her convent.
She never met the street-sweeper again. But the girl's words were not lost on her. From then on she stopped looking down on herself and began looking up to her sisters with reverence and love. And eventually, without even being aware of it, she lost pride forever.
End Notes
1. "A GENTLE BREEZE - God Tales for Young and Old," by Fr. Nil Guillemette SJ, Chapter 12, pp. 80-84, St Pauls Publication, Makati City, Philippines, 1989.
2. I have Fr. Nil's permission to use his stories via his letter to me dated Feb. 10, 2001: "In answer to your letter of Feb. 1, which I received yesterday, I gladly give you permission to use my stories in your bible sharings. However, in order to discourage any illegal pirating from unscrupulous readers, please always add the proper reference (author, publisher, book, pages, etc.). "
The story starts in July 2007 when Stuart Daglish, who lives in Doncaster, came across some old letters which started his interest.
Pictured (left to right) Kathleen Nelson, Betty Garner, Stuart Daglish and Pat Whitton. 
