A nun of great faith - in the Phillies

Her soul is devoted to the Lord, but this fall Sister Elizabeth Anne DeWaele confesses that she is a nun with a serious second faith.

As those around her at St. Thomas the Apostle School in Glen Mills have noticed, the Franciscan sister is in the grip of a lifelong Phillies mania. And with her team in the World Series for the first time in 15 years - possibly near its first championship since 1980, during Sister Elizabeth Anne's first decade as a nun - the signs have become hard to miss.

Look on the teacher's classroom walls, where the Phanatic encourages regular reading via posters. Or on her fourth graders' desks, where the art motif Friday consisted of decorate-it-yourself pictures of Phillies T-shirts. Or, for heaven's sake, upon the sister's personal Virgin Mary carved-wood figurine, which she adorned with a homemade paper Phillies cap.

"Got a lot of devotions, actually," the nun said in a quiet classroom, a few moments after she had clutched a red Phillies trinket while leading a blessing.

Sister Elizabeth Anne, a Philadelphia native, has been dedicated to her hometown team for as long as she can remember. So deep are the roots that they are family lore: Her mother and grandmother listened together to the radio-broadcast travails of Chuck Klein's early-1930s teams.

"Mom, from the time she was 5 years old, she fell in love with the Phillies," Sister Elizabeth Anne said.

Hence the faith she was born into. Two decades later, that was joined by her call to join the sisterhood. Now, in a region thrilled that the Phillies have a chance for a second World Series title, the fervor with which Sister Elizabeth Anne mixes her duty with Phanaticism is in the middle of a joyous, and rare, crescendo.

"She's the one who gets everybody riled up," said Cathy Byrnes, a third-grade teacher, as Sister Elizabeth Anne cited Shane Victorino's Hawaiian lilt as an example to teach students about American accents.

Sister Elizabeth Anne organizes the faculty outing to Citizens Bank Park's teachers' day in the spring, and she asks for rare time off every opening day to sit in the stands. Her fellow teachers and school administrators are officially indulgent.

"It's perfectly fine," principal Barbara Virga repeats, annually, to the request.

It's an easy answer, Virga explained. Sister Elizabeth Anne is dedicated enough to the Phils that she rarely misses listening to a game on the radio as she tucks into her convent bed.

And there's a second reason. Letting Sister Elizabeth Anne slip away from school for her Phillies habit is a sacrifice that brings returns. When donated tickets turn up, Sister Elizabeth Anne takes groups of students to the park, where she uses baseball as an instructive device.

Her first ballpark rule: Keep the faith, even if the team is losing (for decades).

"I say to my kids, 'Think of all the times you've been bad and God was kind to you,' " Sister Elizabeth Anne said. " 'It doesn't matter. You're not a front-runner.' "

Another rule: No booing.

"It's not where I'm from," she said, referring to her mind-set more than her city, which she acknowledged "can be tough."

A third: Watch the game and how players carry themselves. Good sportsmanship brings the sister's favor upon players, and the same goes for the students who notice it. Talking and being inattentive to the game, she explained, are nearly as unwelcome in the ballpark as they are in the classroom.

So goeth the lessons.

Sister Elizabeth Anne's spiritual attendance record is stronger than her baseball one. She said she gets to "seven or eight" games a year; work and a lifestyle of sacrifice prohibit season tickets. This year, she even got to attend one game in each of Philadelphia's National League playoff series, adding a "thank God almighty" quickly when asked about the experience.

"People give us tickets," she said. "There's no way I can do 120 bucks."

She has no World Series tickets in hand, but if they don't come, she'll still follow the games. A nun devoted enough to follow most regular-season games by radio, with regular phone calls to her television-watching mother whenever the Fightin's have a stellar moment, will find a way.

After all, she found a way in '80. And in '93, though the gopher ball that Mitch Williams gave up in the World Series did try her patience.

She was asked if she had forgiven him easily.

"No," she said, "and I keep calling Brad Lidge 'Mitch Williams' when he does those close calls."

She has, however, come around on "Wild Thing," owing largely to his insight as a commentator.

"He has changed my opinion of him," Sister Elizabeth Anne allowed.

So it turns out there is forgiveness in baseball.

She can only pray it won't be required this year.