An Afternoon at the Gunnedah Convent of Mercy

Earlier this afternoon, my parents and I returned to Port Macquarie from a weekend visit to our hometown of Gunnedah.

I’ll write more about this trip at a later date, but for now I’d like to share some images of one of my favorite places in Gunnedah: the Convent of the Sisters of Mercy.







The Congreagation of the Sisters of Mercy was founded in Dublin, Ireland, in 1831 by Catherine McAuley, a wealthy heiress who turned her back on a life of wealth and comfort so as to respond to the needs of the poor and disadvantaged.

In the book, The Way We Were: Sesquicentenary of Gunnedah, 1856-2006, Ron McLean writes:

The Sisters of Mercy came to Gunnedah on January 3, 1879, four years after they had left Ennis in Ireland, to respond to the request of Bishop Murray to establish a Convent of Mercy in Singleton, NSW. . . . The Sisters rented a small cottage from George Cohen in Maitland Street, which served as their convent and also as a small high school. An elementary school was opened in the local church.

On September 14, 1879 the foundation stone of the Bloomfield Street convent was laid. Gunnedah remained a branch convent of Singleton Congregation until 1887 when, with the alternation of the boundaries of the Maitland and Armidale dioceses, Gunnedah Convent of Mercy became an autonomous Congregation. Mother Mary Aloysius O'Driscoll [pictured above] was appointed Superior of the new congregation, and in this cap[acity is regarded as the foundress of Gunnedah Sisters of Mercy.

The main entrance of the convent (above at left) is the 1879 original Bloomfield St. building. In 1924, the beautiful Romanesque chapel was added on the western side. At the time of its construction, the chapel was described as “an architectural gem which compels the imagination of all who see it, and one of the finest buildings of its kind in Australia.”

Above: Standing at right with (from left) Dad, Sister Vianny
and Sister Gemma Burke. In front is sitting Sister Monica Horan
(my 2nd grade teacher), Mum, and Sister Judith Carney.
This photo was taken on Saturday, February 6, 2010
at the Convent of Mercy, Gunnedah.

As I’ve noted in a previous Wild Reed post, the Convent of Mercy is located across the street from my old primary school, St. Xavier’s, and next to my old high school, St. Mary’s College, where “virtue is the way of life.” Both schools where founded by the Sisters of Mercy in the late 1800s.


Right: Standing with Sister Monica Horan who had been my 2nd grade teacher at St. Xavier's in 1973.


In the late 1990s, the Sisters of Mercy relinquished control of the college. It is now run by the Armidale Diocese. From 1998-2001, my Dad served on St. Mary’s first board of lay people. For two of those years he served as board chair. During this time he worked closely with both Sister Gemma and Sister Judith (both of whom are pictured above).

When living in Gunnedah, Mum was an associate member of the Sisters of Mercy.



Here’s a funny little story: When I was in early high school, I can distinctly remember sitting with my classmates on the lawn pictured above, looking at one of my teachers, and thinking that if I had been born a girl, I’d probably follow in her footsteps and become a nun! It wasn’t that I wanted to be a girl, I just had a very strong realization that if I had been a girl, I would like to be a Sister. I'm thinking that most of my male classmates would had been be freaked out by such a thought. But it didn’t faze me. I let it surface, reflected upon it, and then let it go. Interestingly, I never thought much of the priesthood - except when I was quite a bit younger and was briefly drawn to all the magic-like ritual and pomp. Thankfully, I quickly out grew that.

In a way, I have followed through with my adolescent contemplation on life as a Sister. After all, I am now a consociate of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet - St. Paul Provence! Amazing how life unfolds, isn’t it?



Recently, a great tree came crashing down in a storm, narrowly missing the grotto pictured above at left. Some declared (as some do) that because the grotto was spared, it was “a miracle.” It wasn’t a miracle, however, for poor St. Bernadette - or rather for the statue of the young saint that was positioned, for as long as I can remember, on the lawn in front of the grotto. It was smashed to smithereens.


I’ve always loved the pergola pictured above. As an adolescent, I can remember that I liked envisioning (daydreaming, I guess you could say, of) meeting Jesus here! In my “visions,” it was always a dazzlingly bright day, and as Jesus approached to sit with me, I’d smile at the sight of his bare feet on the gravel path. And he’d always smile back.



This statue of Jesus and his Sacred Heart is located between the main convent building and the chapel. I must admit that the Jesus I often envisioned meeting in the garden of the convent was considerably less imposing. Still, I’ve always liked this particular depiction of Jesus, particularly his bare feet!



Above: The convent chapel, bathed in the afternoon sun. Beautiful, isn’t it?


See also the previous Wild Reed post:
Gunnedah (Part I)
Gunnedah (Part II)
Gunnedah (Part III)
Gunnedah (Part IV)
My “Bone Country”