Limerick sacristan reflects on 48 years of service as she retires
ALMOST 50 years ago, the local parish priest in Kilmallock knocked on the door of Hanna Costello “several times” in an attempt to get her to become the local parish sacristan - half a century later, Ms Costello, now in retirement, reflects on her decades serving her community.
Forty-eight years is a long time for someone to spend working any job let alone a role within the community but, as Mark Twain famously said, “Find a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life”.
This is certainly the case with Glenroe’s Hanna Costello.
“The parish priest kept coming to my door, asking me to take on the position. I told him that I wouldn’t dream of it,” Ms Costello laughed.
“I said I wouldn’t dream of going out there or doing anything like that. He wouldn’t let it go, so finally I said I’d give a hand for six months. Sure I’m there until now.”
According to Ms Costello, she didn’t realise the commitments that the role of a sacristan entailed.
“I just thought that it was just a matter of opening the church, locking the church and that would be about it.
“It was like a 24-hour job. It was all go, all the time. A busy parish,” she said.
Another aspect of the role that Ms Costello took on on occasion was the cleaning of the church. “We used to have all the children over helping us with that and they all loved it as well. They’d be singing and everything and we’d be telling them to be quiet as somebody would be coming into the church,” Ms Costello laughed.
One part of her role that Ms Costello had great love for, was the people she met along the way. Particularly the elderly she met when she was in her early thirties but the job still remained a huge commitment throughout the years.
“There were choir practices, delivery men with all different things. You always had to be there to meet them at any hour.
“Funerals are a bit different now as the remains aren’t being brought into the church the night before. You would be there half the night before as people would be there after receiving the remains in the church. You had to wait around and stay back to lock up and it could be as late as 12am before you are able to lock the church.
“You just understood all that though, you had to understand it. You have to be really committed to the job,” she said.
The role of the job for Ms Costello meant that she often had to change plans to suit the church, particularly on a Sunday when she would have plans to bring the children somewhere.
“I often had to turn around and say, ‘Sorry but God wants me first’. One of them said one day ‘Era, he’s a bloody nuisance,” Ms Costelloe laughed.
Ms Costello, due to her role, has heard a lot of sad stories over the years. Some she wouldn’t even have words or answers to but she maintains that just listening to these stories is enough to console those affected.
“You just need to be able to listen,” she reiterated.
After reflecting on her decades of community service, Ms Costello said she hasn’t adjusted to retirement from her role just yet.
“I find myself looking at the clock and wondering is it time to lock up? Or is it time for the choir practice? I haven’t fully lost the habit yet.
“It’s time for me to slow down now though alright. I don’t know what the role will be in the future, whether they will get someone in on a voluntary basis or whether they will appoint someone,” Ms Costello added.