Love Lives On

These days, as my number of years increases, I find myself gaining new perspectives and insights. I suppose that experience is not unique to me, but rather one of the significant gifts that come with aging. A great deal of earlier life seems to be spent figuring out whether to go “gee” (right) or “haw” (left), to borrow from equine terms. With the passing of years, however, we begin to strive more intentionally to proceed straight forward carefully, thoughtfully, as best we can.

One new thought surfaced as the first anniversary of my good friend, Jean’s death approached. A new notion came to mind as I recalled the phrase, “Life is changed, but not ended.” In the past, I had always associated its meaning with the future life of the deceased, an encouragement to focus on their continued existence in the often-referenced ‘hereafter.’ But this time, with new insight, I found the subject of the phrase had become me.

While my longtime friend’s earthly life has come to its close and continues now in unimaginable ways beyond this world, I realized that my life, especially regarding our shared relationship, has also undergone a change, but continues.

“The friends we have lost do not repose under the ground... they are buried deep in our hearts. It has been thus ordained that they may always accompany us.”

— Alexandre Dumas, in The Count of Monte Cristo

Jean’s physical presence may be gone, but our connection, the shared memories, and the influence she has on my life are still very much alive. And so, my life too is changed yet continues to be so richly blessed.

-Sister Nancy Wales, csj

Images: le Sixième Rêve/Sixteen Miles Out | Unsplash

The Lost Doll and the Tooth Fairy

As somewhat of a reluctant “Facebooker,” a friend, aware of this, emailed me the link to a story she thought I might enjoy. Curious, I clicked on the link and found myself reading a moving account about a sympathetic middle-aged man and a crying girl who had lost her doll. I won’t spoil the ending, but it’s a brief (266 words) post that’s worth experiencing for yourself. Read it here.

The girl’s unexpected encounter with Franz Kafka reminded me of an experience of my own.

““Everything you love will probably be lost, but in the end, love will return in another way.””

As a primary school teacher, I too, had a memorable encounter with a sobbing child. I had just entered my Grade 1 classroom when I was immediately met with the sound of crying. I soon discovered one of my students, in tears. When I asked her what was wrong, she explained through sobs that she had lost her baby tooth and wouldn’t be able to place it under her pillow for the Tooth Fairy. I knew the day would be ruined for her, and maybe even for all of us, if I didn’t find a way to solve her dilemma. Then, inspiration struck.

I suggested that the Tooth Fairy would probably accept a letter from her teacher, explaining the situation and requesting the fairy accept the note in place of the missing tooth. The sobs stopped, the tears dried, and a smile returned to the girl’s face. I quickly wrote the letter and asked her to carefully tuck it into her book bag.

The next day, she came into class bubbling with excitement and handed me a thank-you note from the Tooth Fairy. It turned out her mother had played along, showing her gratitude for my creative solution.

Did this article spark any memories for you?

-Sister Nancy Wales, CSJ

Franz Kafka was a German-speaking Bohemian writer born in Prague in 1883, and he is widely considered one of the most influential authors of the 20th century.

Good Neighbours Day

Who is my neighbour?  That is a question straight from the bible and in today’s confused society can have many interpretations.  Is the neighbour someone like me? Is my response coloured by moral judgement, feelings of pity, fear or indifference or by love, the right thing to do?

What is stirring in your heart as you look at the innumerable social needs demanding attention. Yes, the needs can be overwhelming and can shut you down but they can also stir you to action.  The choice is personal.

Image: Jon Tyson @jontyson/ Unsplash

I chose to get involved and started to volunteer one morning a week at St. Joe’s Café, our hospitality centre here in downtown London, where the guests who come each morning for breakfast became familiar and I could put names to faces.

Some of the guests come sick and struggling with addictions or homelessness, poverty, or loneliness, and some come for the social contact and the delicious food. The staff and volunteers welcome each person with dignity, kindness and words of understanding and support. As I sat thinking about my experience at the café, I received a call from a friend, a new Canadian, who was asking for advice on how to help two undocumented coworkers who were let go from their workplace. They contacted her in great need. She said to me,

I love Canada, and I want to pay forward the help I was given when I was lost and needed hope to face the future. 

The answer to ‘who is my neighbour’ is revealed each time I step out of my comfort zone to extend kindness, a listening ear, or comfort to a brother or sister in need.

-Sister Ann Marshall, csj