Jasmin was only 8 years old when she died from complications of dengue fever and pneumonia. She was one of 11 children of doña Julia and don Lucio, our next-door neighbors in our parish of Santísima Trinidad (Holy Trinity) in the Amazonian area of Bolivia.
I met Jasmin and her family two years ago when I arrived in March of 2024. Jasmin was a vivacious, smiling little girl who loved to play and dance. She participated actively in the cultural dances of her Indigenous Mojeño people, especially during Christmas and Easter celebrations.
She died on Feb. 2, the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord. The feast, also called Candlemas, is a day on which people have candles blessed to represent the light of Jesus guiding their families and homes. In Bolivia, it is also called the feast of Our Lady of Candles (Candelaria), since Mary gave birth to Jesus as the light for all the world to see.
After the funeral Mass of Resurrection in our parish church, the whole Mojeño community walked in quiet procession to the cemetery. Small candles were lit and placed around Jasmin’s gravesite. It was a sign that Jesus has overcome darkness and the sadness of death by the light of his resurrection.
All of us in the community have been saddened by the death of Jasmin, named after the jasmine flower by her mother. I believe that this young girl, who was like a fragrant flower, will never fade away; she shines like her name, living forever in the loving embrace of Jesus, light of the world.
Michael Bassano, M.M.
Have you ever entered a prison? It can be very daunting and disorienting as you pass through security and iron doors clang behind you. It was there that I encountered a very frightened young man, 19 years of age, sentenced to 12 years in prison for gang affiliation and drug trafficking. I visited him monthly while caring for my father here in the States.
As we grew in relationship, the young inmate revealed his vulnerability, sharing an early childhood of poverty; the rejection of an alcoholic father; and helplessness at ongoing physical abuse. He had left home at an early age and encountered other young men who projected their anger in violence toward others. As he gradually shared his story and cried out to God for assistance, a greater inner clarity began to surface. Not only did he come to understand the self-rejection and repressed anger which grew out of a life of abuse, but he could also admit how his anger had caused extreme harm.
Like the tax collector in St. Luke’s Gospel, he experienced the merciful and compassionate love of God as he forgave his father and asked forgiveness for himself. He made the decision to withdraw from all gang membership and activity. After 12 years of suffering, this young man left prison transformed. Through the grace of God, he came to know the Truth, and it was this inner Truth that made him free.
I remain active in the Alcoholics Anonymous program in the area of Mombasa, Kenya, where I serve as a Maryknoll lay missioner. I attend four meetings a week at hospitals and substance abuse rehabilitation centers.
I also sponsor young men — now that I’m 74 years old, most people are young to me. I help them work the Twelve Steps and practice AA principles to improve their lives and the lives of those around them.
Leaving their drug of choice is the first step. Finding spiritual and communal support is the next. Many people with addictions have lost everything they had — which, in Kenya, may not have been much in the first place. They have lost jobs, families, safe housing, even personal integrity.
When someone comes to AA seeking relief, perhaps a small measure of personal dignity remains, and that is what we work with: the desire to be better. Through prayer, reliance on a personal higher power, and developing a new life in community with others in sobriety, addicts learn to turn their suffering into moments of hope, one day at a time.
Featured image: A jasmine flower (Fachtu Robbi Almalik/Unsplash)
