Paris, during the Nazi occupation, with French citizens climbing the Eiffel Tower shouting liberté. Mildred F. sees her own life in that image: a reclamation of a world lost to the dark side. She arrived at the fellowship broken, unemployable, and in a state of "pitiful and incomprehensible demoralization." A former nun of fifteen years, she spent decades trying to orchestrate her own salvation—treating a Higher Power like a "cosmic concierge" who would deliver the world exactly as she ordered it.
Her wreckage is concrete: 32 hospitalizations, 38 shock treatments, and a period spent diapered in a psych ward at age forty, staring at a purple, bruised face in the mirror. She chased "heaven on earth" through booze, vanilla extract, and Chanel No. 5, until she hit a line in the sand. Through the "three Ps"—poverty, people, and the stripping of the ego—she stopped directing the results and started doing the "do things."
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