A surprise as her hospital remembers my sister Sylvia’s service

The rain was holding off as my twin Peter and I navigated the path through the gardens beside Cabrini Hospital in Melbourne’s Malvern. At the start of Cabrini week – and I’ll explain that name later – we had been invited to a “Ceremony of Remembering” commemorating my big sister Sylvia among Cabrini staff who had died in the past year.

There was prayer, and hymns, and a short reading of 16 stories, and 16 fresh plaques in the garden. Whether you were a distinguished surgeon, in the domestic services, or a volunteer, Cabrini wanted to remember your compassion and dedication. It was a reminder of the ultimate egalitarian democracy of death.

Having walked that garden during weeks of hospital visiting, I suspected a plaque might be involved. But something else I should have remembered took me by surprise.

The Cabrini choir was there – Sylvia has helped found it. They lead us in a gathering hymn:

Today we come and bring our gathered memories

Of those we love, who walk beyond our view

They are our friends, our children and our partners,

Our parents, all remembered as we do.

And say thank you that they lived and loved us.

Together now we share our tears and pain,

To heal the hurt, the anger and the sorrow,

To gather strength and peace, and so to live again. 

It fitted Danny Boy to perfection. The surprise was that as I walked to the reception after the service, Peter pointed to the small print acknowledgements on the back of the service booklet – Sylvia had written it. Choir leader Leesa Horrigan told us that Sylvia had written it especially for the annual service.

It works so well for a mixed gathering of believers and unbelievers, pointing gently towards a sure-footed faith that has an afterlife.

Sylvia’s reading: Sylvia joined Cabrini in 1976 as one of the original radiographers. Over 34 years, she helped pioneer CT, MRI and imaging advancements, shaping the medical imaging department. A wise mentor and caring team member, Sylvia fostered a spirit of collaboration and support. Her quirky humour, generosity and kindness left a lasting mark. As a founding member of the Cabrini Choir, her influence extended beyond work. Her legacy lives on in the culture she helped build. Rest in peace, Sylvia.

When Sylvia joined Cabrini Hospital, there was still a group of Cabrini sisters serving there. She became close with them, and Baptist Sylvia was sent to represent them and a Cabrini assembly in New York. 

She clicked with the nuns and understood their passion.

And that was reflected in a “Reflection song” we sang next, called Cabrini Spirituality – words by Sylvia Sandeman, set to music by choir member Leesa Horrigan.

It’s like the wind blowing where it wills

Unseen, but there. Untouchable.

Silently moves through the corridors.

Silently moves through the wards.

We see it hiding in the treetops.

We hear it moving into the night

But can we box it up? But can we hold it tight?

Cabrini Sprituality. Cabrini Spirituality.

For in the moment of our possession

It has passed on through our hands

For only the heart can see it. Only the soul understands

Cabrini Spirituality. Cabrini Spirituality.

It’s like the wind blowing where it wills.

Unseen but there. Always is present.

We reach out our hands to grasp it.

But it is already gone.

Cabrini Spirituality. Cabrini Sprituality.

Only the heart can see it. Only the soul understands.

Just as Syvia’s gathering hymn slips in a knowing reference to the afterlife, this song is really about the Holy Spirit, inspiring people to service. Both of them are a gentle invitation to be a Christian.

We see it hiding in the treetops … One morning, I turned up from Sydney after Sylvia had an episode of delirium, and friends brought her back to hospital. She told me that she had woken up, becoming aware of where she was because she could see the tall pine tree that stands over the road from Cabrini, and the shape of the Presbyterian church roof down the road.

As a single woman, Sylvia would have had much in common with those Cabrini Sisters. Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini (1850-1917), the sisters’ founder, was a bold and determined woman. Rejected on the grounds of health by one order, she went and founded her own, the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart. But she met her match in Paper Leo XIII, who told her not to send her sisters to China as evangelists but to go and serve the poor Italian immigrants in America. “Not to the East, but to the West,” commanded the pope. So the Cabrini sisters went to work in the Italian ghettos of New York and other American cities. In time, she became the first US Saint and the patron saint of migrants. And today, November 13, is Mother Cabrini’s feast day.

At the remembrance service in Melbourne, we heard that Archbishop Mannix asked for sisters to come from Rome to minister to Italians in Australia, joining the wave of past war migrants in 1948, and like many “new Australians,” in the language of that time, arrived without a word of English. 

Hearing the songs my sister wrote for the sisters made it plain that their lives of devoted service, nursing, cooking, cleaning, and praying that formed the culture of service at Cabrini, lives on.