Tag Archives: Christmas

My Time with Mother Teresa 

MT and ME pic"Love others as
God loves you.
    God bless you.
        Mother Teresa mc
                     21/12/90"

One of my deepest dreams, as a girl and then as a young woman, was to meet Mother Teresa and experience her work in Calcutta.  In 1990, I turned 30 years old and decided to go for it.  I bought a ticket and headed to Calcutta by myself to fulfill a dream.  In honor of Mother Teresa’s canonization today, I will share my stories of my encounters with this holy woman.

My first encounter with Mother Teresa was on December 23rd.  I had been in Calcutta for a couple of weeks, living and working in a L’Arche community with 7 developmentally men and on my days off I worked at Mother Teresa’s Home for the Dying and Destitute and at her orphanage.

Acclimating to Calcutta was a challenge.  Everything was different and seemed difficult.  Within 24 hours of my arrival, I contracted a parasite and was intensely ill.  I lived in one of the poorest tangaras.  We sat on the floor there was no furniture.   We ate with our fingers, there was no silverware, we wiped ourselves with our left hand and water, there was no toilet paper, I slept on a piece of plywood with a thin mat and a mosquito net.  Half of the men I lived with spoke English, but I had a difficult time understanding them and the other half spoke Bengali, which I did not understand.

As I wondered the streets of Calcutta on December 23rd, I met 2 young women who were from Scotland, and I could understand them!  I was so thrilled to visit with them.  Even though we were from different countries, they felt familiar and easy.  They invited me to meet them later that evening for tea.

In the early evening, I went to the Mother House for prayer.  I entered a large room.  The visitors sat on the right side and the nuns sat on the left.  I sat down next to the aisle, hoping to get a glimpse of Mother Teresa.  They handed each of us a plastic rosary.  As I sat there taking in the peace of this place, Mother Teresa came into the chapel and sat directly across from me.  There was no more than a few feet between us.  I admit, I did not pray.  I just sat and watched this holy woman.  What was most surprising to me was how ordinary she was.  There was no bright halo above her head or lights shooting out from her.  She was just a simple old woman praying the rosary.

When the prayers were completed, she stood and went to the front of the room.  She announced that there was a visiting priest and that Confessions would be available.  I walked out of the chapel with those who were leaving, convinced that I would rather go to tea then Confession.  But instead of going down the stairs and out the door, I  walked down a hallway and stood off to the side where no one could see me and had an argument with myself.  One part of me was convinced I should leave and go have tea with the 2 young women I’d met.  The other part pushed me to stay and go to confession.  I had good reasons for both choices and the argument within went on and on.

Then the most amazing thing happened.   Mother Teresa came out of the chapel and walked right up to me.  She put her hand on my arm, looked up into my eyes and said, “So, you are going to confession?” With my eyes wide, I responded, “Oh yes, Mother!” .  She kept her hand on my arm and walked me down the hallway and into the chapel.  Then she pointed to my head and said, “The line for Confessions will form here.”  I was astounded!  Did God have to be that obvious?   Who could say “No.” to Mother Teresa.

As I said my five redeeming Our Fathers, deep tears streamed down my face, tears of shame and remorse for having so much and always wanting more when so many in the world have so little. My tears subsided as the shame poured out and a new resolve set in: to be a good steward of all that I have, to buy less and to buy good quality so that it will last, to live in gratitude and to give back to the world through service.

 

 

 

 

Christmas in Dublin




We arrived back in Dublin to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas day with Rhona. We set out into the cold dark night to walk to her college for Christmas Eve Mass. A small group of us gathered around the alter, leaving the main body of the Church empty. There we sang and prayed and welcomed the light into our lives. We returned home to the warmth of Rhona’s apartment and while Niko and Sam snuggled into bed, Santa went to work wrapping gifts and setting them under the Christmas decorations in the living room.

It is a simple Christmas. A few small gifts for each of us. Nothing more. No big Santa surprise gift or extravagant gifts for each other. Small gifts that fit our overstuffed luggage and that allow us a little surprise to open on this day of giving. The real gift for all of us has been spending this cold, dark season in the light of this amazing experience. No physical gift can begin to compare. So we sit by the electric fire and sip our whiskey or hot cocoa and watch the Polar Express and smell the turkey in the oven and give thanks for the sweet gifts of home here together.



Hill of Tara






From County Cavan, we drove to the Hill of Tara. I had told Niko we probably would only need to stop for a few minutes, as it is so cold outside and the day is getting late and we want to get to Dublin before Sunset. I guess I wasn’t expecting much. We found the town of Tara, parked the car and went into a small shop to finish our Christmas shopping and to ask for directions. As we left the shop, dusk was settling in. We followed the path behind the shop and up the hill and there it was, the Hill of Tara. The view was amazing. The sun was setting and the sky was pink, purple, red, yellow and orange. Sam climbed up and slid down the Hill of Hostages. We were delighted in this unexpected winter wonderland and the expanse of sky and snow and beauty. Sheep grazed nearby and Niko and Sam were silhoutted against the sky as we wandered back to the car, totally satisfied by this final tourist adventure in Ireland.

Christmas Eve Morning at Killyon B&B


Fresh pineapple, melon,grapefruit, satsumas, and bananas, fresh squeezed orange juice, Greek yogurt with a variety of cereal toppings, homemade marmalade, three kinds of homemade breads, scrambled eggs with smoke salmon, warm porridge, these were the delights that awaited us at breakfast this morning. The proprietor of our B&B is Michael. His twinkling brilliant blue eyes greeted us as we made our way to our table rich with antiques and a bountiful breakfast. As we ate, he told us his stories of living in London in the 60’s. Paul McCartney lived around the corner from him. And he met the Beatles, Jimmy Hendrix and Tom Jones. He gave up his bed for Tom Jones one night. Michael also gave us a tutorial on the antiques that surround us. The 7 paintings in our room actually came from the home of Bono! How do we stumble into these places?
Last night, we arrived in Navan after driving cross country all day in the hopes of visiting New Grange. We arrived to a closed gate and a sign that said it was closed because of inclement weather. We were half expecting what we found so our disappointment faded quickly and instead we took a few moments to just breathe in the spirit of this place. We then hopped in our car and drove further down the road to see the remains of Dowthe, which can be seen from the road.
Once we arrived in Navan, we stopped at the Loft for dinner. It was recommended in our Lonely Planet Guide Book. The food was fantastic, but even more impressive was the staff. I asked Paddy, the young man who took us to our table where he would recommend us staying for the night. He asked what kind of accommodations we were looking for and when I told him a reasonably priced B&B, he said he’d get on the phone and see what he could find for us. Twenty minutes later he comes back and tells us about Killyon B&B, just 5 minutes down the road and asks if we would like him to book it for us.
Our waitress, Rebbecca, was just as impressive and kind. When I asked about the soup of the day, she asked if I would like to try it. I expected a small sample, instead, she brought me a whole cup of the most fantastic cream of onion soup I could ever imagine. Niko, Sam and I all shared it and then ordered a large bowl. Sam ordered a pizza, Niko ordered a salad that had Chorizo, avocados and tomatoes on a bed of lettuce…yumm, and when I was trying to decide whether or not to get the meatballs, she again ran off and brought me back a sample of the sauce they were cooked in. It was a delicious meal, made more so by the kind and generous staff.
Because of Paddy, we have the great fortune of partaking of the best breakfast we have had in the past 3 weeks…possible the best breakfast ever. It is a wonderful way to start our Christmas.


I Wish You a Mary Christmas


Last week our host daughter, Mary, came downstairs clutching a pink hat to her chest. Mary is a vibrant young woman from Lesotho, Africa here with the Menonite Central Committee for the next year. She came into my office with her dark eyes smiling and asked, “Is this for me?”
“Where did you find it?” I replied.
“Under my pillow.”
“It must be from the Advent Fairy”, I said.
Stretching out her arms, cradling the pink hat in her hands, and with her face radiant with joy, Mary exclaimed, “I think I like this!” Into the bathroom she went. Standing before the mirror, Mary put on her new hat. Admiring herself this way and then that way, hands framing her face, Mary admired herself in her new hat. “I am a pretty lady…I love myself in my new hat…I am so beautiful…oh I like myself in this hat.” On and on she went. Joy streaming out of herself, love for herself and for her own beauty overflowing, Mary admired herself in the mirror for many minutes. Throughout the day Mary went back to the mirror several times to sneak another peak of herself. I watched in awe and wondered, “How did we white women of America lose the ability to fully appreciate and love ourselves in our bodies? My prayer for you and for me, this Christmas, is that we will sneak a peek in our mirrors and without criticism or shame proclaim our beauty and our deep joy in our own reflections. May you have a Mary Christmas.