Sister Richard Mary Peters, IHM

Sister Richard Mary Peters, IHM, of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary died on Wednesday, June 10, 2026, at Our Lady of Peace Residence in Scranton, PA.

Born on July 8, 1943, in Flushing, NY, and given the name Marilynn Ann, Sister Richard Mary was the daughter of the late John Richard and Rosetta Margaret Mary Cullen Peters. She entered the IHM Congregation on September 8, 1961, made temporary profession of her vows on June 26, 1964, and final profession of her vows on June 26, 1969.  Sister Richard Mary received a Bachelor of Arts degree in elementary education/English, and a Master of Science degree in elementary education, both from Marywood College.

Sister Richard Mary served as a teacher in the following schools: Holy Angels Elementary School in Pittsburgh, PA, from 1966 to 1968; St. Dominic Elementary School in Oyster Bay, NY, from 1968 to 1974 and 1984 to 1988; Sacred Heart of Mary Elementary School in Jermyn, PA, from 1974 to 1976; St. Mary Elementary School in Manhasset, NY, from 1976 to 1977; Our Lady Queen of Martyrs Elementary School in Forest Hills, NY, from 1977 to 1982; Our Lady of Grace Montessori School in Manhasset, NY, from 1982 to 1983; St. Peter of Alcantara Elementary School in Port Washington, NY, from 1983 to 1984; and St. Ambrose Elementary School in Bridgeport, CT, from 1988 to 1995.

For thirty years, Sister Richard Mary dedicated her life to a ministry of quiet presence and steadfast service, embodying the true meaning of a faithful companion. From 1995 to 2006, she served with diligence on the support staff and as a driver at the Marian Convent in Scranton, PA, ensuring that the daily needs of her community were met with gentleness and grace. In 2006, she transitioned to Our Lady of Peace Residence, where she continued her compassionate work until 2025. Throughout these three decades, Sister was a cornerstone of care and comfort for the infirm and elderly sisters in her charge. She walked humbly alongside her sisters, providing them with the warmth, dignity, and unwavering support that defined her long and beautiful vocation.

From 2026 until the time of her death, Sister Richard Mary was a prayer minister at Our Lady of Peace Residence in Scranton.

Sister Richard Mary is survived by her cousins, and by the members of the IHM Congregation.

The funeral will be Tuesday, June 16, at 11:00 a.m. with Mass of Christian Burial at Our Lady of Peace Residence, 1510 University Avenue in Dunmore, PA. Friends may call at Our Lady of Peace Residence on Tuesday, June 16, between 9:30 a.m. and 10:30 a.m. A prayer service will be held at 10:30 a.m. Interment will follow Mass on Tuesday at St. Catherine’s Cemetery in Moscow, PA.

Prayer and Funeral Mass

Reflection

Given by Sister Suzie Armbruster, IHM Leadership Team Member

We gather here today to celebrate the life of our Sister Richard Mary. We welcome her cousins, her faithful friends, and her treasured bandmates.

Richard Mary was the only child of John and Margaret Peters. Born and raised on Long Island, she was dearly loved by her extended family, especially her cousins. She also shared a deep connection with the men from St. Tikhon’s, as evidenced by their many visits and the numerous tokens of friendship displayed on her wall—crosses, pictures, and gifts that reflected years of mutual affection and respect.

As I came to know Richard Mary and observe her relationships with others, I realized that some of the friendships that mattered most to her were those she shared with her bandmates. Many of you are here today to honor that bond and bear witness to the strength of your friendship.

Faithfully, month after month, you gathered to share lunch, stories, and companionship. During Richard’s struggles with declining health and the loss of her leg, you cared for her with remarkable devotion. You visited often, brought clothes for therapy, fulfilled many requests for snacks, favorite fast-food burgers and fries, and most importantly, showered her with calls, cards, and visits. Your attentiveness helped transform long, difficult days into moments of acceptance and hope.

When Richard wanted to believe that life had become too hard and that acceptance was her only option, you gently refused to give up on her or let her give up. You encouraged her to keep moving forward. Sometimes she listened; sometimes she agreed in “words” but lacked the strength to follow through. She would often tell me she was ambulating from her bed or chair, and she knew that I knew it really was not happening. I would arrive with therapy straps, small weights, or squeeze balls, and her response was always, “Leave them. I’ll try them later.”

At one point, I even showed up in a wheelchair, hoping to get her to “race” me down the hall. That was an epic failure, and it broke my heart. Then one day, I received a picture of Richard standing at the therapy bars. What an amazing sight! It was all the encouragement I needed to head back to her room and begin cheerleading once again.

Throughout her ministerial life, Richard Mary gave her whole heart. She spent many years teaching primary grades, especially second grade. What a special gift it takes to be prepared, creative, energetic, and patient enough to guide young children through such formative years. Richard possessed those gifts in abundance and definitely was the “wonder sister” for many young children.

She prepared her students not only academically but also spiritually, helping them prepare for the Sacraments of Reconciliation and Eucharist. Most of her teaching years were spent in New York, with a few assignments in Pennsylvania and Connecticut. Her summers were often spent at Camp St. Andrew’s Project Hope, where she served as a roving counselor, assistant swimming coach, and enthusiastic leader of singing and dancing in the canteen. I suspect some of you here today may have shared those camp days with her.

Richard Mary was always about service. She taught during the day and spent evenings participating in parish councils, committees, and countless other ministries. Yet she was always clear about what she was—and was not—willing to do.

During the years when the Congregation asked sisters whether they would be willing to learn conversational Spanish for service in other missions, Richard faithfully wrote “NO” in capital letters each year, adding, “My Hispanic, Japanese, Korean, Chinese, and Indian students understand me quite well.” I suspect this was during her years in Forest Hills, where she taught students from what seemed like every corner of the world, the league of nations.

In 1995, Richard Mary began ministry at our Marian Convent. There, she became a generous companion to our senior sisters, attending to their needs, driving them to appointments and hospitals, and responding with love and compassion whenever needed, regardless of the hour. Her ministry continued through the transition to OLP. For many of us, Richard was truly a guardian angel and faithful companion.

In between all of that, she could often be found washing cars—some so frequently that the paint seemed to wear thin. She took great pride in caring for the community vehicles, a responsibility she had embraced years earlier while out on mission as her “charge.”

You might also spot her making her way down the path to the grotto, carrying scraps of food for the deer and other wildlife. She had a true Franciscan heart. Occasionally, she attempted to feed them by tossing food from her balcony rather than walking to the grotto, but that idea was quickly vetoed by her neighbors.

Richard possessed a deep faith and a profound love for the Eucharist. Daily Mass nourished her spirit, and she became living bread for others through her years of service as a Eucharistic minister. She truly embodied Christ’s presence for many sisters and parishioners alike.

During her final months, Richard was blessed by the companionship of her longtime friend, Teresa Rafferty. Teresa, your move to OLP was truly a gift. You reentered Richard’s life exactly when she needed someone most.

You became her “wheels” when she could no longer get around independently but still wanted to attend chapel and meals. When Richard moved to the second floor, you remained faithfully by her side—helping her eat, drink, watch television, and enjoy those beloved old Westerns shows. Praying with you and Richard was a sacred privilege, and I humbly thank you for allowing me to share those holy moments with you and Richard.

Richard’s role models were strong women: Sister St. Mary, Marie Angela, Barbara DuMont, and, of course, her dearest friend, Mary Shelb. Through their guidance and example, Richard learned what it meant to be a Sister, Servant. For years we watched Richard and Mary Shelb walking together along the road and wondered about the nature of their friendship. Over time, it became clear that it was rooted in learning how to serve generously, without judgment, and with compassion.

During Richard’s final months, she struggled with letting go. As we talked about what life would be after her amputation, she moved between courage and fear. She asked many difficult questions, and it took tremendous vulnerability for her to voice them. There were no easy answers—only faith, trust, and confidence in God’s love and mercy.

Our conversations always ended the same way: a small sign of the cross on her forehead, a prayer, a smile, and often a laugh.

While awaiting surgery, she asked repeatedly, “Is this really happening?” I knew then how frightened she was. No amount of imagining could prepare her for the reality ahead. When she awoke after surgery, she asked if it had truly happened and when she would get her prosthetic leg. Her difficult journey became a hard reality, but her faith never wavered.

As her strength declined, she moved between fighting fiercely and surrendering to God’s will. During hospice, she often called out for her mother and reached for her hand, longing to be brought home. She smiled often and recalled cherished memories.

One evening while sitting with her, I found myself praying the words of Isaiah 49: “Can a mother forget her child?” Then I added my own thought: “A child never forgets her mother.”

Richard, you are whole again. Dancing and singing—not at Camp St. Andrew’s, but surely at Project Hope Eternal. You are reunited with the saints and angels, your beloved mother and father, and, I am certain, with our IHM saints and angels, especially your dear friend, Mary Shelb.

I can only imagine what it felt like to walk into heaven.

Rest easy, dear friend.