I n Kenya, where I am serving as a Maryknoll lay missioner in the HOPE Project, I met a widow named Lucy. After the death of her husband in 2020, Lucy was left to care for three children with barely any means. Her youngest son, Athman, is now 13 years old but is only in sixth grade. He fell behind because he was in and out of school, depending on whether Lucy could pay the school fees.
In August, our project started supporting Athman’s education. He is so happy to be back in school and not have to worry about being sent home because of unpaid bills.
We also included the family in our monthly food distributions and provided them with a water tank, as well as a new bed and mattress. Lucy says the HOPE Project has brought her smile back.
For me, this is what mission is all about — personal encounters, meeting Jesus in others, and sometimes even bringing smiles to those who feel hopeless.
M y wife Ann has been tutoring a 9-year-old Mexican boy whose family is living in fear of deportation. One day the mom asked if he could stay with us until 10 p.m. Her work hours at a nearby burger flipping joint had abruptly changed, and she had no one to watch him.
Ann, of course, agreed. But how would we entertain our young guest? He’s a sweet boy with a speech impediment who is only just learning English. He partially solved our dilemma by taking a nap. When he woke up around 9 p.m., I was prepared, having cooked some delicious pasta. He finished everything on his plate — and then ate seconds — and went home a happy camper.
It was such a small thing to do for that family, and I keep thinking that if all of us do these small things, maybe bigger things will happen.
James Coady, Maryknoll affiliate
M aryknoll Father Joshua Maondo and I are in the first months of our new mission assignment in Bolivia as recently ordained priests. We serve in the Amazon at the remote parish of Chipiriri, where we are becoming part of the people’s lives. Energized, I go out to visit, talk and have meals with parishioners. In their sharing, I see a dim star of hope in their hearts.
Visiting families reminds me of Jesus’ mission to the marginalized. He was deeply moved by others’ brokenness, and their spiritual and economic poverty. He expressed his humanness and even wept.
One day while visiting some of our parishioners, I felt so moved by the condition of their home. When it rains, their house floods, and a tree outside their door seems to float on water in the yard. They walk through all this water and mud without boots!
However, what most moved me was the reception I received from the family. In spite of their struggles, they offered a freshly caught fried fish, which we shared joyfully at their table.
Pray for me as I continue this mission of presence.
Charles Ogony, M.M.
W hile I was serving in mission in Kenya, the women in one community told me about rising alcoholism in their village. Most men were spending their daily earnings on illicit brew, draining family incomes and leaving all of the caretaking to their wives. The burden weighed heavily.
The women shared their predicament with the village chairman, but to no avail. Desperate, they decided to act. One early morning they confronted the liquor suppliers, chanting slogans and destroying the brew. They vowed to do this every day. Within a week, every woman in that village had joined this movement, and in less than a month they paralyzed the business of illegal brew. Some of the men started drinking responsibly, while others quit drinking alcohol altogether.
These brave women recognized the power of unity and came together in solidarity for a common cause.
Featured image: Sean Sprague/Kenya
