Carmelite Monastery
Maryton Grange
Allerton Road
Liverpool, L18 3NU

Webpage: Carmelite Nuns

Founded from Lyons in France at Fulham in 1865, moved to Isleworth while the Carmel was being built at Golders Green, moved to Golders Green in 1908. They are at present resident in Preston Carmel awaiting the completion of a newly build Carmelite Monastery where they will join the Liverpool Community.
The Carmelite monastery at Golders Green.......



The following article was taken from Hampstead & Highgate Express

Prayers and graces
Tony Padman enters the cloistered world of the Carmelite Sisters, where silence is not only golden but the rule for nuns who have dedicated themselves to a life of isolation from everyone – including their relatives.

Sister Teresa and I sit on either side of the black grille that separates us, rather like a confessional. The grille is secured in the centre of the partitioning wall of two rooms. Visitors are not permitted any further than here and the chapel. There is a daily newspaper but no television or radio. Aside from a visit to the doctor or dentist, Sister Teresa and the 12 nuns of the Carmelite convent in Bridge Lane, Golders Green, rarely, if ever, leave the confines of the grounds. Don’t expect to see the nuns shopping at Tesco. The grocer, chemist and milkman all deliver. There is no noise. The nuns only speak to each other when necessary.

Sister Teresa of the Carmelites: “I miss many things. Travelling, the mountains, my family…”

Sister Teresa, 71, has been a Carmelite nun since 1952. A warm and unassuming woman, she dresses in the brown Carmelite habit. She greets her visitors like old friends whom she has not seen for ages.
“Of course it’s not easy and there are many things I miss. But it’s a life of devotion to God,” she says with a smile. “I miss travelling, mountains, beautiful scenery and of course my relatives.

Sister Mary makes altar breads

“There has also been a time in my life when I miss not having a family of my own. But I made this my choice.”
This is one of the 22 remaining “enclosed” Carmelite convents in the UK. There used to be 39.
“The enclosure is not meant for security or to keep us in and others out. It’s a firm demarcation to provide us with a climate of prayer,” explains Sister Teresa. “Other convents are known as “apostolic” which means that the nuns have visible tasks such as teaching, nursing and social work. Their conditions and timetable are more flexible. Also they have a less institutionalised lifestyle. They’re outside meeting people, they’re more in touch with events and there’s a greater participation in the larger community. Our Order is based on a life of prayer.”

The Carmelite Order was brought to England from Lyons in France 150 years ago by a Jewish musician, Hermann Cohen, who converted to Catholicism. He opened the first Carmelite house in Kensington. The Carmelite nuns have been living alongside the Jewish community of Golders Green since 1908.

Sister Teresa says: “We see how assiduously they attend the synagogue and have a friendly interest in their customs. We feel an affinity in their worship and hope in the future to have closer relations and to understand their way of life.”

The most overwhelming feeling of tranquillity and serenity awaits visitors inside this Byzantine-style fronted convent. It’s white, scrupulously clean and the atmosphere is like manna from heaven. The silence surrounds you so peacefully, it feels as if it’s going through you.

The quadrangle building with a garden in the centre separates into four light and airy cloisters, with monastic-like arches throughout. One leads to a small room, where income is generated through making altar breads for many of the London Catholic churches.

Sister Mary, 73, looks after the baking. She explains: “It’s a paste made from water and flour which we sandwich and bake between two 18in hot plates. After a few seconds they are taken to a damping office, otherwise they become too dry and brittle for cutting. The altar breads are weighed in bags of 100 and dispatched in boxes of 1,000.” There are two breads, one the size of a 10p for parishioners and one slightly larger for the priest.


Another source of revenue until recently was the design and printing of greeting cards. A Heidelberg Press was installed when the convent won a contract to produce cards and gift tags for the Samuel Jones Butterfly Brand. Sister Teresa says: “We were like a little factory producing more than 25,000 quality cards every year. Eventually, the work became too pressurised and it took away our reason for being here.”
The printing press sits in an attic high in the eaves of the convent. To reach the attic you use a lift that sits out of place within one of the cloisters. It can only be described as an H.G. Wells time machine that you are more likely to get stuck than transported in. You don’t call the Fire Brigade if you’re trapped in it, though. “Don’t worry,” says Sister Teresa seriously, “if it breaks down there’s the emergency rope to pull us up.”

Another of the cloisters points to the “cells”. The nuns, who range in age from 35 to 85, sleep in rooms measuring 12ft by 8ft, each with a small bed, a chair and a locker.
The women, whose nationalities include English, Burmese and Korean, wake daily at 5.25am. In addition to prayers, they do housework, laundry and gardening.

The head of the convent is Sister Magdelen, 74. She is referred to as the Prioress, although in other convents she would be known as the Mother Superior. This is the only hierarchy within the Carmelites.
Between 9.30am and 10.30am every day of the year, the homeless and the needy gather outside the front door as they have done for almost 60 years and are given tea and sandwiches. Sister Teresa says: “They’re real characters, protective of each other. They’re mostly men whose lives altered through no fault of their own.”

A statue of the Virgin and Child in the convent’s chapel.

The training with the Carmelite Sisters is similar to other convents. A year of “finding out” is followed by two years as a novice. After this they may take their first vows of poverty, chastity and obedience lasting three years. At the end of this time they are free to go or take their final vows, which represent a commitment for life.
“This is a difficult undertaking today. You need a certain amount of psychological balance to fit into enclosed life,” says Sister Teresa. “In the past, your hair was cut and this was symbolic of what you were leaving behind and what you were going forward to. It used to be a bridal ceremony in the chapel and afterwards in the enclosure you were given the habit. Nowadays, the habit is given privately within the enclosure.”
She admits that once you become a nun, you don’t become superhuman. “The way someone holds a soup spoon can drive you round the bend. Just as in marriage, you either say, ‘I’ve had enough of you,’ or you get beyond it.”
Living with a group of nuns can be as difficult as living in any community, she says. “Before I entered, I’d lived with people of my own age and shared interests. Then I became a nun and found that the greatest difficulty was living with people I hadn’t chosen to live with, or friends I wouldn’t have picked by choice.
“But the most important thing is that you learn about yourself by living in a certain solitude and with other people. It’s still my greatest difficulty but it’s a source of growth.
“It’s a wonderful place. A plumber came to work for us recently and he said to me: ‘Oh, it’s so quiet and calm here, I’d love to stay longer.’ I think he was quite envious really.”