Georgetown Visitation Monastery

Love Calls Us to Communion

Love calls us to union and union calls us to communion. Why is this communion so often broken?
I had the opportunity to visit many Gothic churches in Paris, Rheims, Chartres, and Cologne. Everywhere I was told, “This building is slowly deteriorating and will have to be repaired, holes filled in, and stones replaced.” The pollution in the atmosphere attacks even stone! Communion can be destroyed in the same way.
The atmosphere of communion is polluted when I egotistically seek my own interests and not those of my brothers and sisters, and those of the Lord; when I oblige others to follow my will and not God’s: when I judge my brothers and sisters unjustly; and when I lock them into their deficiencies.
Lord Jesus, we are in communion when you are among us, because you bring your life into ours. When we go away from you, we also abandon our brothers and sisters, and communion is broken. If I substitute your presence, Lord, with selfishness, prejudice, self-love, jealousy, I put love to death and communion is broken.
The love true communion is in you, Lord.

Venerable Francis Xavier Nguyen Van Thuan

Cardinal Nguyen Van Thuan (+2002) was imprisoned by the Vietnamese government for thirteen years, during which time he secretly sent prayers and spiritual writings to his flock.

The Visitation

by Olivia Wills Kane ‘85, Ministry Coordinator, Visitation Salesian Network

Mom of Marie Therese ’14, Cecilia ’16, Virginia ’18, Florence ’20

Each year on the Feast of the Visitation, I find myself returning to one small phrase in Luke’s Gospel: Mary “went in haste” to Elizabeth.

For most of my life, I understood that instinctively. I have always moved quickly—a fast walker, eager to get where I am needed. But over the last few years, injuries have slowed me in ways I never expected. There are places I cannot easily go, people I cannot readily reach in person, and ways of helping that are no longer simple. And yet, I have discovered that I can still “go in haste”—with a pen in hand, rather than in footsteps.

In his 1618 sermon for the Feast of the Visitation, St. Francis de Sales reflected: “The Evangelist says that the Virgin proceeded in haste and went up into the hill country of Judea, to show the promptitude with which we should respond to divine inspirations; for when the Holy Spirit touches a heart, He puts to flight all tepidity: He loves diligence and promptitude, and is the enemy of procrastination and delays in the performance of the divine will.”

What our patron lingers on is not Mary’s movement, but its interior source—the way divine prompting does not hesitate, but asks for a ready heart. Before Mary “lifted a finger” to help Elizabeth, she first brought her the presence of Christ simply by arriving. That insight stays with me because I so often think I must arrive with answers, when sometimes the holiest thing is simply to arrive at all. Mary’s first gift was presence.

The Visitation Sisters have long carried forward this ministry of presence—the quiet, faithful work of accompanying another with prayer, humility, and unconditional love. As a member of the Salesian family, I am blessed to have inherited that spirit, carrying others in prayer, memory, and correspondence.

Sometimes, though, I hesitate to reach out. I delay because I fear saying the wrong thing, because grief feels awkward, because encouragement seems too small, or because I assume someone else will know what to say better than I can. I wait to craft the perfect response. Meanwhile, the moment passes.

I have thought about that often while looking through the letters and notes I have saved across a lifetime: notes pinned to the Visitation bulletin board in the 1980s, Junior Retreat letters, sympathy cards when my parents died, my husband’s love letters, and irreverent birthday cards exchanged among old friends. Together, they form a kind of archive of presence: small “visitations” carried heart to heart, pen to paper—little records of how we carried Christ to one another across the years.

Long before the recent epistolary novel The Correspondent reminded readers of the intimacy and power of letters, our Salesian tradition already understood this deeply. Jane and Francis sustained spiritual guidance, holy friendship, and love through correspondence. Their letters were not polished performances, but extensions of care.

Perhaps that is one invitation of this feast: not to wait for grand opportunities to serve, but to respond promptly and lovingly when someone comes to my mind. A handwritten note. A quick text. An email sent before hesitation wins.

I do not need the language of angels. I simply need the willingness to arrive.

Embracing Where You Have Been Planted

by Maddy Cuddihy-Haire ‘12, Manager, Advancement Events

It was in the parking lot of a Costco that I felt the tug.

I paused mid-sentence as I was speaking to my husband, who was about to get out of the car and start our shopping trip. He looked at me, confused as to why I had stopped so suddenly.

“I think I have to do this—I think I’m being called to do this.”

And just like that, my journey back to Visitation began.

This May will mark my three-year anniversary of returning to Visitation as a member of the Development Office. It may seem like a short time to some, but to me, it feels monumental when I consider all that has changed in my life since then. I moved back to Maryland—the place where I grew up, where my family is, and where so many of my closest friends, including my Visitation classmates, still are. We found a new home, experienced the joy of pregnancy, and are now finding our footing as parents to our incredible, funny, intelligent, and precocious 21-month-old son, Rowan.

As I meditated on St. Francis’ words, “bloom where you are planted,” I found myself returning to that moment—the quiet, unexpected tug in the middle of an ordinary day. It reminded me that God does not always call us in grand or obvious ways. Sometimes, He meets us in parking lots, in pauses, in the spaces where we are simply paying attention.

During my four years at Visitation, I bloomed as a student—both personally and academically. I discovered my passions, deepened my faith, and found a place to belong, just as so many women have done before me. So, when the opportunity arose to plant my roots here again, it felt less like a decision and more like a response—to a place that helped form the woman of faith, vision, and purpose I am today.

This, I truly believe, was God calling me home—not just to a place, but to a purpose. A call to bloom in a new way, in the very place where the seeds of faith were first planted in my heart.

I am someone who is always looking ahead—always anticipating what’s next. But as we enter this beautiful season and watch the flowers of spring begin to bloom, I am reminded of the importance of being present to where we are now. God gives us so much to be grateful for in the present moment. And perhaps part of “blooming” is not striving for what’s next, but fully embracing where we’ve been planted—trusting that there is purpose here, too.

So, I invite you to pause with me, to take in where you are, and to listen for those quiet tugs of God’s voice—however, and wherever, they may appear.

Pope Leo has appointed Father Gary Studniewski and Father Robert Boxie to be Auxiliary Bishops of the Archdiocese of Washington.
Both are exemplary leaders in our local church, and they will provide great wisdom, counsel and collaboration to me and selfless priestly service to the entire People of God in the District and the
five Maryland counties.

Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Washington 1 like. "Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Washington | Press Conference | May 1, 2026"

We are filled with joy and blessings in our community at Georgetown Visitation. Sr. Emma, now known as Sr. Leonie Francesca, professed her first vows on April 25, 2026, which is the feast of St. Mark. We thank you for all your prayers for her and our community, and we also keep all of you in our prayers.

Believing in the Good

by Kerry Kaminski, Director of Academic Support

Our wonderful school, Visitation, is named for the moment when Elizabeth, pregnant with John the Baptist, encounters Mary, her much younger cousin, pregnant with Jesus. The two women were filled with joy at their reunion, delighted to see one another.

At this time, both of these women were being called and challenged in a way that neither expected. The gospel of Luke tells us that Mary put her fears aside to help her cousin Elizabeth with her own miraculous pregnancy. Together, they went forward with joy, hope, and trust.

I have always been an optimistic person, despite my tendency to worry. How can I be both a chronic worrier and a joyful optimist? I landed on this: So much of my faith in God and my outlook on life is because I genuinely believe in the goodness of other people, in their ability to grow when they are loved well and seen for the gift they are.

Joyful optimism asks that we try our best to see another person the way God wants us to, hoping they see us the same way in return. But when things have not gone as I’d hoped, I’ve found comfort in knowing I’ve done my best to know each person. But optimism doesn’t mean blind, unrealistic hope.
Joyful optimism doesn’t mean believing that you will get everything you want. It’s knowing you tried your best to achieve something, and trusting that there is a larger plan when you don’t get what you want.
Joyful optimism isn’t even confidence that you will earn an A on an upcoming test or DBQ, but rather certainty that you will be okay if you don’t.
Joyful optimism sometimes looks like believing in another’s inherent goodness and finding out they aren’t exactly who you hoped them to be, but continuing to believe in people’s inherent goodness, anyway.
Joyful optimism isn’t being certain you will get into your dream college; it’s knowing you will land where you belong.
The opportunity to get to know my students, to try to see each of you the way that God sees you, to joyfully and firmly believe in your potential - and to watch that belief come to fruition on a near daily basis - is as close as I will ever get to being Elizabeth to your Mary, the older of the two women who truly see each other, root for each other, and joyfully encounter each other with faith and hope.

Like all of us, Mary and Elizabeth both had every reason to fear, and yet they remained joyful and hopeful. What a wonderful image to carry in our hearts and our minds throughout our time at Visitation: belief, joy, and certainty amidst doubt, spending our days as we hope to spend our lives: with an eye towards a bigger picture and the faith that our lives will unfold just as they should.

This is an excerpt of a talk that Kerry first gave to students at a Cub-of-the-Month assembly.

Prayer of St. Jane de Chantal

I want nothing but God:
to rest in God completely, being strengthened more and more to serve God
by my total dependence on God’s divine Providence,
always more firmly anchored in the faith of God’s true word
and completely abandoned to God’s mercy and care.
O eternal and fatherly goodness!
My heart opens itself to you.

Being Great-Souled Women

by Dr. Elizabeth Turner, Director of Performing Arts

Coming to Visitation last year, I felt I had a pretty good grasp on the words and works of St. Francis de Sales. I admit that I knew very little about the life and wisdom of St. Jane de Chantal and was drawn to Visitation to learn more specifically about her Salesian impact. Studying her more this year, her quotes show a calming, healing presence, especially in our busy daily lives at Visi. After reflecting on her insights, I instantly feel at peace. I love how she speaks to women, and I often feel she is the direct answer to many of my theological questions. How did she know in the early 17th century that these words would still be relevant for women today?

I wonder what her trifles would have been back then. I believe St. Jane is asking us to set time aside to pray, meditate, and reflect on God each day, to spend more time showing Him and ourselves love instead of getting bogged down by others or becoming depressed or angry. St. Jane encourages us not to get distracted by the little things in life: bad habits, gossip, and self-doubts that take up mental space, time, and energy. Rather, we should focus on spiritual growth, purpose, identity, and devotion.

Being an educator in 2026 comes with its own unique challenges, in which it’s certainly easy for these little trifles to come into our minds – to take things personally, become overwhelmed, or feel lacking in a certain skillset, whether it’s technology, generational differences, or social media communications. While these minor things may feel major at times, we should not harp on issues that do not have lasting value. A kind or patient gesture with a student, parent, or colleague does have a lasting impact.

St. Jane inspires us to be great-souled women and to do our daily work for the Lord: helping our communities for the greater good, being kind, and leading with integrity. Keeping God at the center of our teaching and dedicating our actions to a higher purpose will help us lead a virtuous life. A great-souled woman is courageous, generous, and strong in spirit. Time is so precious; we should use these special moments to show love in our relationships with each other and God, embracing positivity and striving to reach our goals. We must put our energy into meaningful work for others with focus and purpose, not dwelling on trivial or annoying nuisances in life. For life is far greater than that!

Prayer of St. Jane de Chantal

I want nothing but God:
to rest in God completely, being strengthened more and more to serve God
by my total dependence on God’s divine Providence,
always more firmly anchored in the faith of God’s true word
and completely abandoned to God’s mercy and care.
O eternal and fatherly goodness!
My heart opens itself to you.