Moments of Grace

by Emily Ruskamp, IWM serving in Chimbote, Peru

I walked into the Confirmation class here less than three months before Confirmation day and introduced myself to a room of 20-some teenagers.  Some looked at me with curiosity, others with amusement, the rest with boredom.  All made me self-consciously stumble over my words as I spit out some attempt to explain why I was there.  A few were interested to know a little more about the U.S., but most paid me little attention.  After a few more classes of minimal involvement on my part, the bishop informed us that our Confirmation celebration was moved a month earlier, which meant we now had less than two weeks to complete just over a month of final preparations.  Perhaps their preparation could have been fuller with more time, but the urgency of the moment created a sense of camaraderie.   I began to see their personalities, learn their names, and have more conversations.  At the same time, the plans for developing a youth center were completely stagnant and I was very discouraged.  We seemed to lack interest, initiative, and organization, and at times I was questioning my involvement.  I had momentum with this small group of students, but Confirmation was soon approaching, and I feared it would all be lost once the class was done.  Still, by Confirmation day I was very excited for them and the celebration was successful.  Though I had done very little, I was proud that this group of 16-strong followed through on their commitment.  Camila, one of the students, came to hug me before she left, and asked if I was going to continue being involved in more activities.  I told her yes, we are hoping to plan many more things for the youth.  She told me she would be attending mass on Sundays, and asked that I keep her updated.  I told her I would, of course, and reminded her of the open invitation to visit my house at any time for whatever reason.  She received it very warmly, then she told me she would see me Thursday to plan the retreat that they didn’t get to have!  It was a simple exchange, lasting only a few seconds, but within it were the seeds of everything I hope to experiencewith the youth.  As she said, this week we will meet with those who still want to have a retreat.  I don’t know how many will show up or what the likelihood is that we will follow through with the idea, but this seedling was an affirming grace from God to press onward, even when it seems fruitless!

by Kelli Nelson, IWM serving in Chimbote, Peru 

It was a typical Monday in the barrio with my new companions in the women’s’ literacy group.  “Repite por favor: aaa…eee…iii…ooo…uuu…,” I said, hoping my sounds were accurate, as I continue to learn with my abuelita friends while I teach.  “Aaa…eee…iii…ooo…uuu…” they responded quite perfectly.  “Muy Bien,” I sang with a smile.  My supervisor gave us all a look of praise, as we continued, “la…le…li…lo…lu...sa…se…si…so…su…”  One of the women interrupted with something to share.  It was All Saint’s Day, and she thought it important that we take some time to share with one another our intentions, thus we ended our studies early and began the next thirty minutes that will remain with me forever.   She shared with us about the loss of her husband, the many struggles and celebrations it entailed; it had only been three weeks.  Others mentioned parents and friends, children still alive in spirit, yet physically put to rest.  My heart had been heavy that day remembering a dear friend on the anniversary of his death and I was unsure of whether to share or not with so few words and emotions on edge, but accepted the invitation upon the ease at which I feel with these women and their willingness to be broken with me.  There were already salty tears running from faces after hearing the other stories, and after mine, eyes were puffy as we passed around the roll of toilet paper.  We left the house that day, all five of us hand in hand, sensitive squinting eyes, graced by a sacred moment of solidarity, holding close that afternoon song, the dust swirling in response to our steps forward.

by Marcelle Keating, IWM serving in Chimbote, Peru

My third day into working inside the hospice facility, I was asked to bathe a patient who had died early that morning.  He had only been admitted the day before.  When I first met him,  I thought he resembled a zombie.   He was barely cognizant with a gaping mouth and a gaze that was fixed on the ceiling.  Death came as a blessing that day but his family was there struggling to cope.  It is custom in Peru for a family to take the responsibility to provide all supplies and prepare the body for burial, but they were understandably asking for help.  I was directed by the staff to go in and assist with the bath.  When I asked for their towel the family fished around the patients belongings and presented me with a pair of his underwear, no wash cloth.  It is forever humbling to see people work with what they have.  So with my gloved hands as a wash cloth and a pair of underwear as a towel, I set off to bathe the patient. 

 

One of the family members stood over me anxious to see everything was done right.  I did not find her demanding.  She was the strong one, keeping it together for everyone else.  The other family members were in and out of the room.  The women were crying and a few of the men had  blank stares.  She helped me dress him.   After death, the body fluids tend to ooze out.  I ended up having to strip the bed of the sheets and change the cotton stuffed in the nose and mouth after it became soaked in blood.  I found the work to be very peaceful.  There was no rush.  God gives us the grace to persevere and find strength sufficient for the day.