To the Mercy Community,

A few days ago, we officially closed the doors to Mother of Mercy High School, marking the end of over a century of education, friendships, and memories.

And as a somewhat recent graduate of Mercy, I know, it hurts. A lot.

For many, Mercy was the place where best friends were made, the kind we couldn’t wait to reunite with every time we came home from college. Mercy was the place where we discovered our hidden passions (or hatred) for chemistry or algebra, and where we ran across the gym to hug each other when giving peace at school masses. From here came countless ghost stories of the third floor and myths of the rooftop pool, with which we lovingly taunted the incoming freshman each year, knowing we had fell for each story ourselves. Mercy was where we had the night of our lives dancing in the school gym, while singing our hearts out in the Mary Carlos Theatre, and when we scored the winning point in the final volleyball game of the year, feeling unstoppable and wondering if life could get any better than this. In Mercy’s cafeteria we ate microwaved cookie dough and chanted the alma mater each Friday, swelling with pride, knowing without a doubt we could beat Seton.

And from Mercy we graduated, white caps in the air, diplomas in hand, ready to take on the world, knowing Mercy had prepared us well.

It’s hard to swallow the fact that future generations will not be able to experience the charm of Mercy as us graduates did. However, we can still give them a piece of Mercy; in fact, we can give the whole world a piece of Mercy.

Let us take this opportunity to use what Mercy taught us. Let us serve others as Catherine McCauley did, let us empower women as Mercy empowered us, and let us love and accept those of all religions, cultures, and ethnicities in the spirit Mercy’s mission was based on.

Let us use this chance to teach our children to eat microwaved cookie dough with spoons, to hug instead of shake hands, and to accept themselves make up free, watching as they become as bright eyed, strong, and loving members of the Mercy community.

Let’s make it a time to catch up with old friends, pour over old yearbooks, and reflect on all the times we ran up and down those three flights of stairs, admitting that even if we didn’t know it then, the shin splits were worth it.

Even as the doors of our high school close, let us not forget that our responsibility as Mercy women is far from being over.

Because after all, the circle of Mercy is without a doubt, timeless.