Joseph then married Laura Ciolino, a young widow from Italy whose husband had died in the First World War. Her children were ages two and five. The couple had three more children, in what today would be called a "blended" family.

When Mary Teresa was in sixth grade, beautiful, young Sister Mary Dominic (age 22) asked the girls, "Who would like to be a sister?" All the hands went up. Mary was given a scholarship to the Dominican Academy in New Orleans, sixty miles away, where her Aunt Rose was working and learning English. Mary would often interpret for her aunt.

The academy had no seventh graders that year so Mary skipped to eighth grade. Five years later she entered the convent. In 1928 she began teaching at the new St. Leo the Great School, and taught mostly primary grades in the Dominican Sisters' schools until 1995, when she retired to the motherhouse.

In 1948 she began making "sister dolls" to help raise money for the Dominican College Library, which had just moved to an old mansion, and needed "everything." She sold them her dolls for five dollars each, and until recently was selling them for $25.00. The dolls were meticulously crafted to the end by this nonagenarian, who didn't want to raise her prices, because maybe someone couldn't afford it. "I feel sorry for people," she said softly. There were those who maintained she was a nun-doll. The sisters were concerned that she worked too hard, but those who have the dolls consider them collector's items.

Her greatest challenge, she said, in looking back over her life, was teaching the altar boys their Latin in after-school hours. "Sometimes they would catch the priest in a mistake," so she knew she must have done well. She enjoyed traveling to Europe, to Lourdes, France, and Ireland, where her Dominican community originated in 1860, and twice to Italy (where on the second visit she kept a promise to come back, spent six weeks, and visited many cousins) and to Medjugorge, Yugoslavia. She lost count of trips to see her brother and his family in Chicago.

Eighteen of her sixty-six years of primary teaching were at St. Leo the Great where she had been a pioneer at age eighteen. "It broke my heart to leave," she said. Many of her students came to her funeral.

When asked what was her happiest time, she said with a chuckle, and eyes twinkling, "It's all been happy to me!" and added thoughtfully, "I had joy in doing everything for God." Graceful, and gracious, she was an inspiration, a warm ray of sunshine to all who knew her. Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God.

Many gave witness to what she taught them outside the classroom. "I learned from her," was heard over and over. She had almost total recall of events, and though reserved, loved people, reaching out to strangers. Her ten-year career in the mail-room at St. Mary's Dominican College taught her of her power with people. She was loyal, trusting, and sensitive. Although fiercely independent, she learned to ask for the extra help she grew to need. A bundle of energy, she had to give up much of what was precious to her, like her sewing. She would tell you, if you were interested, how she wrestled with God and gave in. Just before her jubilee on June 4 she told a good friend, "I'm leaving everything in God's hands." She had only days left, but no one knew.

This diminutive, dynamic, simple, pure soul, full of wonder, faith, and humor has left her mark wherever she walked with her quick sure step. She left us so quickly. A wise friend said, "It was hard on everybody but her."