"I would rather be here than anywhere else."

Claire Sims found the garden all the way from Wetumpka, Alabama, some 200 miles away. She grew up in a very strict church, whose beliefs – women can't preach in the pulpit or speak with authority – pushed her even farther away.

This mountain garden began to heal all that.

"This has fixed a little part of me that was broken," said Claire.

Paul Steiner found the garden after a career in NYC tech, late nights and claustrophobic streets. Burnt-out, he traded his subway pass for an RV, traveled south, met some guys drinking beer in a Mexican restaurant who said: there's folks with a garden nearby, needing some help.

"I would rather be here than anywhere else," he said.

Abby Cronan, an environmental studies + religion major, found the garden from her college counselor: boy, do I have an internship for you.

"This has probably been the most peaceful experience of my life," she said.

The garden? You, too, can find it. Turn down a gravel Sewanee backroad, past the horses with heads bowed in pastures, then, take one more step:

Let go of preconceived notions.

The garden is part of a convent.

With nuns. Four of them.

Whatever images immediately pop up – repressive and Von Trappy, knuckle-whapping – they are laughably irrelevant.

"We hid our rulers from ya'll," laughed Sister Hannah, the Prioress at St. Mary's Convent in Sewanee, Tennessee.

Prioress? It's a fancy term with un-fancy meaning: first among equals. Sister Hannah is not your nun's nun: 38, millennially hip, nicknamed "RevMo", she is both reverent and invitingly unconventional.

"I'm a cross between Billy Graham and Taylor Swift," she said.

For her, all the nun stereotypes are wildly out-of-date.

"They're like bell bottom jeans, David," she said. "You can't get rid of them."

Just wait till you hear how she found the garden.

In 1865, the very first Episcopal religious community for women – known as the Community of St. Mary's – was founded in New York; the order spread as far as the Philippines. In 1888, after the yellow fever outbreak, the last surviving sister left her order in Memphis and moved to a Tennessee mountain to form St. Mary's of Sewanee.

Women have been traveling here for more than 130 years, taking vows – of chastity, obedience, poverty – and entering the sisterhood for life.

"It has given me such freedom," said Sister Hannah. "Such liberation."

Today, the nuns – ages 27 to 72 – follow a daily schedule that offers a sacred container: morning, noontime, evening prayers, silent meals, chants and hymns sung in plainsong and communal work.

Sounds nun-ish.

But there's also Sunday movie night – Red, White & Royal Blue was a recent favorite – a convent Youtube channel, the occasional trip outside: maybe Shenanigans or the theater. (One sister went to see Barbie; on the screen next door, the horror film Nun II was playing.) There's an annual homecoming with other nuns – including a "priest prom" – with everyone dressing up.

"I'm wearing Vermont Country Store," laughed Sister Hannah.

All of it revolving around a trinity of prayer, work and caring for the community, with 40-acres of raised bed vegetables, orchard fruit and lavender as the backdrop.

Historically, the St. Mary's garden has been defined by its rows of lavender. Last year's frost was a killer, but Paul – yes, he was hired on as garden manager – says hundreds of new cuttings are being planted.

In May 2013, Rev. Becca Stevens and women from Nashville's Thistle Farms traveled to St. Mary's, joining nuns and other neighbors to formally plant the first lavender field there. For years, Thistle Farms – known across the world for its anti-trafficking work – used the lavender, which the nuns harvested and dried, for balms, oils and soaps.

(Me to Hannah: Think we could meet with Becca?)

(Hannah: David, she's the Oprah Winfrey of the Episcopal church.)

Today, Thistle Farms has outgrown the quiet St. Mary's rows, but the nuns still grow, harvest and sell at the South Cumberland Farmers' Market in Monteagle.

Across the 40 acres, there are:

• 18 beds of summer onions, beets, garlic, chard, strawberries, okra, squash and shishito peppers.

"I traded the guy at Ace hardware for some," said Paul.

• Orchard fruits like pear, apple, peach, grapes, blueberries, tart cherries.
• A boxwood labyrinth.

They donate food to a Monteagle food pantry and sell to LUNCH, the fabulous mountaintop restaurant.

All this provides the backdrop for the Organic Prayer Program: during the schoolyear and summer, St. Mary's invites college students to experience life – from shared meals to silent prayer to communal life – in the convent.

(There's also an Associate program, where lay people commit to what's called a Rule of Life, including spiritual mentorship from St. Mary's nuns.)

The lines between work, prayer and service blur; the effect is uplifting and, well, revolutionary in this hyper-busy world: ahhh, it is possible to live with ease and balance.

"We have a schedule and we stick to it in a way that feels very natural," said Abby, the summer intern from James Madison University. "Eating healthy, exercising, taking time for meditation and relaxing."

As the lovely writer Anne Lamott once said: “Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.”

Perhaps the most transformative part of St. Mary's is hidden in plain sight.

"It was the first time I saw a woman at the altar," said Sister Felicity.

The women of St. Mary's represent the feminine face of the divine. This has far-reaching impact, especially on those of us taught something ... different.

"This has been transformative," said Claire. "I can see women do things I never thought I’d see women do."

This is the moment she says the line that's still echoing: this has fixed a little part of me that was broken.

What part?

"That I'm inferior because I'm a woman. That I would never experience God the same way as a man."

Near her, Sister Felicity agrees.

"We're all made in the image of God," she said. "Not just some flawed reflection."

Before she became Sister Hannah, Heather Winkler grew up "fundamentalist Baptist" and attended a Roman Catholic middle school, already quietly knowing: I really just want to live with other women, pray and do service.

"It's not something really encouraged at career day," she laughed. "Army, Navy, Marine Corps, nuns and IT."

College followed, then a few years as a hospital dietitian. Deep kept calling to deep. From her North Carolina apartment, she began Googling convent near me.

"It was a 1/4-life crisis," she said.

In 2015, she showed up on the doorstep of St. Mary's; in 2021, she took three vows for life:

• Poverty

"It is very freeing," said Sister Hannah. "No personal bank account. No private car. To wear the same thing every day. You're not attached. I'm not possessed by things."

• Chastity

"It's all about your focus," she said. "I have a deeper relationship with people."

• Obedience

"The Latin word for 'obedience' means 'to listen'," she said. "We listen with the ear of the heart."

It is all countercultural.

"Radically countercultural," she said. "Who gives up romantic relationships, successful careers and a personal banking account? Nuns. That's who."

Before we said our goodbyes, Sister Hannah stopped by the blueberries.

"If you have a relationship with something, you're going to care for it more," she said. "You don't have a relationship with aisle 12, but you do have a relationship with these blueberries."

Since 1888, women have been traveling here – down the gravel road, past the horses, heads bowed – looking for a new form of relating to the world, like searching for the pearls of great price.

Becca Stevens. A sister fleeing yellow fever. A North Carolina dietitian longingly Googling "convents near me." An exhausted NYC tech guy. A college student from Wetumpka who'd never seen a woman at the altar.

"This has fixed a little part of me that was broken."

All photography by Sarah Unger (sarah@foodasaverb.com)

All design by Alex DeHart

All words by David Cook (david@foodasaverb.com)

Story ideas, questions, feedback? Interested in sponsorship or advertising opportunities? Email us: david@foodasaverb.com and sarah@foodasaverb.com

This story is 100% human generated; no AI chatbot was used in the creation of this content.