One Sunday after Mass at the cathedral in Montego Bay, Jamaica, where I used to serve, a woman slipped a note into my hand and left quietly. The note read, “Elvis wishes to see a priest,” along with an address. When I visited Elvis at his home, he had a large white bandage around his neck. He explained that he was terminally ill and wished to be baptized.
I told him that I could baptize him right then and there in that room.
“You can?” he said.
There was no water to be found in the humble house, so Elvis sent a little boy out to fetch a pan of water.
When I read the Scriptures, Elvis allowed his tears to flow freely. He said he wanted to be received by Jesus, his Savior. I baptized him, and he was clearly at peace.
When his mother walked into the room, Elvis shouted, “Ma, I have been baptized!” He spoke like a new man, with enthusiasm and confidence. Shortly after, Elvis passed away. I am sure in the mystery of salvation that he is with God.
Before becoming a Maryknoll lay missioner, I worked in pastoral ministry with the elderly and dying. Here in Bolivia, I started off in ministries to accompany impoverished seniors through the final years of their lives.
Then, Jenifer burst into my life.
I met Jenifer and her mother through Rosse Mary Miranda, a Bolivian psychologist who works with vulnerable women and children. Jenifer — a tiny 5-year-old bundle of joy — ran up to hug me without holding anything back. The unconditional love and acceptance from this precious girl took me completely by surprise. I felt an invitation from God to consider helping Rosse Mary open a center to serve these mothers and children. It’s an invitation I accepted. I am ready to embark on something new, confident that God (and Jenifer) will be with me.
In Tanzania, where I serve as a Maryknoll lay missioner, secondary school lasts for four years. An exam after the fourth year determines who will continue for two more years of advanced studies and then, hopefully, university. It’s not easy. Primary school is taught in Swahili, but secondary school requires that students take up to 10 classes, all taught in English. The students who make it to university are among the most determined and focused people I know.
One of them, who is very close to my heart, is Irene. Irene has lived with HIV since birth. When Irene was 4, her mother registered at Uzima Centre where I serve, which provides hope, healthcare, education and support groups for children, adolescents and adults living with HIV.
The youngest of nine children, Irene was small for her age but very bright. Despite frequent absences from school due to illness, she was often at the top of her class. Irene is now studying at the university, following her dream to become a doctor!
A couple of years ago, I came to the Sisters Center in New York from the Philippines, where I serve in mission, for routine medical care. I was scheduled for blood tests and struck up a conversation with my phlebotomist. She asked me, “What is spirituality?” I answered that spirituality is what energizes life for us. She then asked, “What energizes your life?” I answered that it is knowing that God is with me.
Upon hearing this, she began telling me about herself. Besides being a phlebotomist, she teaches classes. She advises students, she told me, to learn something that could be used to help the sick or others in need.
I asked about her parish. She said that she did not have one, but added that she sometimes drives to the Maryknoll campus where she can pray and see the stars in the sky, connecting with the Spirit that gives her energy for living. “Zest for life” is how the Jesuit mystic Pierre Teilhard de Chardin would put it. I couldn’t believe this conversation happened over the task of bloodwork, another way of giving life.
Featured image: Sean Sprague/Jamaica
