by Sr. Liana de Jesus, MMM USA /Brazil 08.04.2026
One day a man found an egg on the road and decided to put it together with the chickens and their eggs. The egg hatched and a strange chicken was born. He was rejected by the chickens because he was different. With time he started to grow big and his wings grew bigger too. The man discovered that the unusual bird was an eagle, but decided to change his destiny and teach the eagle to live like a chicken.
So the eagle was living with chickens, feeling like he didn’t quite fit in with them. But when he tried to fly, his wings weren’t working. His wings had been clipped, because the man caring for him didn’t want him to fly away.
The eagle continued trying to learn how to fly. He decided not to live with the feeling of rejection. He embraced his uniqueness that was about flying and being aware of his surroundings. When he had an opportunity he decided to practice trying to fly. But he didn’t have the support of anyone, especially the person who cared for him. The chickens were jealous because of the eagle’s behaviour. But he never gave up. One day, the man saw how hard the eagle was working, and assured the eagle that he would leave him outside of the chicken house and let his wings grow again.
Finally, one day the eagle was able to fly, and everyone was surprised at how persistent he was. When he flew and felt his chest full of air, his wings started to be stronger and he flew higher. His eyes changed color because of the sun. He felt free and happy. Never again would he come back to live like a chicken. Now he would always be in the skies and the chickens forever would desire to be like an eagle.
Sometimes in life people live like chickens, holding back, and never moving toward a better life. We need to know our strengths and weaknesses, and create boundaries to protect ourselves. Surround yourself with people who will help you to grow and show you the truth. Always be ready to change. Being true to yourself keeps you going and you will be able to achieve your dreams and be free like an eagle.
Don’t stay close to negative people, and those who don’t have dreams. It will not help you to grow in life. You will find people in your life who are like chickens, pigs. snakes, and lions. You are the one who can change your history. Be yourself, accept your limitations, and never stop working on your dreams. Everyone has the right to be happy and be who they want to be.
By Sr. Rita Kelly, MMM Ireland 05.04.2026
“Why do you look for the living among the dead? (Lk 24:5)
Do you ever have a sentence going around your head and you are not too sure why? The phrase “Why do you look for the living among the dead” from St. Luke’s narrative on the Risen Christ is the one in my head. It was said, by angels, to the women who went with spices, to the tomb of Jesus.
Recently, I was having a conversation with friends about the various wars and troubles of the world. But then it was mentioned there is so much good in the world as well as bad. The tone of our conversation changed from despair to hope.
In celebrating Easter, the Risen Christ, the passion and death of Jesus is also remembered in Holy Week. Mary Magdalene, Joanne, Mary the mother of James and Mary, the Mother of Jesus, are in the crowd that followed Jesus on the way to way to Calvary. Luke says that the women were weeping for Jesus but he turns to them and consoles them. He says to them “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and children” (Lk: 23:31). In his poem, The Killing, Edwin Muir writes “Alone, beside the cross-foot, four women stood and did not move all day”
One can image the sorrow and despair the followers of Jesus felt. Not only was he a beloved friend but the belief that he was the Messiah who was going to save the Jewish people. But now he was dead. Is this not the same for many people in the world today? Every day we listen to the devastating news of the war in the Middle East, Eastern Europe and parts of Africa. On TV we constantly see people mourning their loved ones. But I am also amazed at the kindness and the quiet heroism of many people whose stories never hit the headlines. Neighbours, friends and strangers help each other. Volunteers at local and global level move from their comfort zones to help those who need their support.
Mother Nature also, teaches a lot, especially in this part of the world. After a long dark winter, buds and flowers appear miraculously. After Christmas, there is the long dark months of January and February and a feeling “winter will never end” but suddenly the snowdrop, daffodils, cherry blossom “flash upon the inner eye which is a bliss of solitude” (Wordsworth).
The women at the tomb were reminded by the angels what Jesus had told them, “The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again” After his resurrection Jesus appears to several people, in ordinary events such as the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, to Mary in the garden, to the apostles in the locked room. The Apostles were so fearful that they locked themselves into a room. Jesus did not only appear to them but showed his wounds. The Risen Christ invites us to look again, to listen more deeply, to hope, not a false hope that denies pain, but through our woundedness we can become a source of healing and meaning. May the Risen Christ bring peace, awaken and renew the faith that lives within our hearts.
by Nadia Ramoutar MMM Communications Coordinator Ireland 04.04.2026
Recently, I was at the funeral of my friend’s mother who had lived a joyful life until she was 96 years old. The mother of three daughters, Marjorie taught her daughters and grandchildren an important lesson about why worrying is a waste of time. She had written up a short account of this that was included in the programme at the funeral.
Marjorie reflected on what the Easter Story and what we can learn from it. She pointed out the loving women who approached Jesus’ tomb after his crucifixion to anoint his body must have been so upset and also worried. They were carrying the spices they had prepared in advance and knew what they needed to do but they more have had concerns on top of intense mixed emotions. How were they going to move such a huge stone to see him? How would be when they got there? What condition would be in after such a brutal and painful death?
After what must have been a night and morning of worry and concern when they arrived at the tomb they were in for a huge surprise. The massive stone was moved to the side and Jesus was not there. His body was not where they thought it would be. The gospels says that they stood there puzzled. Can you imagine?
So when we find ourselves worried or concerned, when we feel we don’t know how we will have the strength or courage to face something we need to pause and remind ourselves with faith, that perhaps a miracle will greet us instead of our worse fears.
by Jo Wardhaugh Doyle Ireland 01.04.2026
A woman wrapped in silence
Mary watched the unbelievable.
Did she go numb or did every cell in her soul burn to the God of the Jews to be merciful.
Did she cry to the depth of her body cells saying, “Rachma Ramah” “A voice was heard in Ramah. It was Rachel, weeping for her children, for they were no more.”
Her silence.
Her breath taken away.
Her son was gone and her, given away.
Yes, her son gave her to John.
The sword pierced her own heart.
Mother no more.
And all she could do is wrap him in her silence.
Stunned and immobile, young John broke down and sobbed at the loss of the man he loved. John was too young and sensitive, distraught by sorrow. His first. The rawest he had known.
Every fibre and nerve was an agony, like having fire turned on his feet. He was in torment, watching the light in his beloved friend’s eyes go out.
John.
“My beloved has gone,” he cried. “My beloved no longer sings and smiles. Or where are you? You are no more, and my breath has gone too.”
Mary.
Mary looks to him. Him who gave her away. Discarded to a young boy, lost, and bereaved. Where have all his friends gone? My son, my heart and soul.
Why?
But a voice within reminds her of the words of his birth. She never understood till now.
Alone she stood, standing, wrapped in her sorrow which pierced her breast, the breast of the child that had suckled her, the breast that filled him with life. And now such a death. There was death all round that day. They all died a little but just stayed breathing.
Alive enough for John, young boy, to compose his heart, his breath, his body, to move closer to Mary. Trembling of lip and limb. That day he became her son as she became his mother.
by Vera Grant AMMM Ireland 28.03.2026
“All the worlds a stage; we are merely players.” These words penned by Shakespeare, some say on the human condition write about us entering one stage and exiting to start the next one. In all there are seven stages until we reach the last scene, that of old age, sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. Only for me it is not quite true.
I remember thinking twenty-one was old and in vain tried to hold on to being a teenager. That was the time our elders told us were the best years of our life. And that is not quite true either. There was the pressure of exams, the need to do well, to be in synch with your peers, wearing the ‘in’ clothes, liking the same music, trying to find your identity, the battle between the mods and the rockers and the big one, your preference for The Beatles versus The Stones. I was the latter but held my own in face of strong opposition.
What I enjoyed, apart from the above mentioned, was being young, being free, enjoying life, discos, parties and the shared, secret moments with friends to whom you could tell everything, particularly those things you couldn’t or wouldn’t tell your parents or even your sisters.
My seven stages were not dissimilar to the Bard’s and each one, following the schooldays, formed a pattern, marriage, motherhood, career, the wise owl of mid life and now supposedly I find myself in the final scene of old age. Every stage has its highs and lows, and this one is no different. What has to be acknowledged is the gift of good health; that apart from the failing eyesight, the impaired hearing, the slowness, taking forever to do the simplest of jobs, the widening or wizening depending on your genes, the yellowing teeth, the parched skin and more. Thankfully in the 21st century there are invisible hearing aids, dental implants, fabulous choice of spectacles if laser treatment isn’t an option. Truly we are spoiled for choice.
So, what makes this last scene better if not the best? Having friends of a similar age who are not only experiencing the same signs of ageing but happy to embrace and to laugh about this well documented decline. The acceptance of a much slower pace of life, the need to factor in times to rest, to sit down with a cup of tea and not feel guilty is a given. We are experts in finding something to occupy the quieter times, reading, playing bridge online (yet another of the advances in technology), light gardening, walking and going to Mass in the mornings and having time to visit and to pray for those who are less able.
‘I am truly thankful’ or / and ‘I have been very lucky’ is an often-heard sentiment and earlier this month on Women’s International Day it was heart warming to receive a beautiful card from a friend with words of gratitude to all the women who have had a positive influence in her life. I felt so privileged to be included and thought a little goes a long way and we never know what an impact we have on those we meet on this journey through its many stages.
by Sr. Noeleen Mooney, MMM Ireland 25.03.2026
My first missionary experience was to Kabanga, in Western Tanzania. Having arrived in the country, it took me five days of overland travel by bus, train, lorry and Land Rover to reach my destination. Coming from a small island country, I was sure I would never get out again!
My work was in the hospital laboratory. One day an Indian couple came, and they asked me my name.
“We saw your mother’s photograph in the local newspaper”, they said. I couldn’t believe them, but it turned out that it was true!
President Julius Nyerere of Tanzania was visiting Ireland. His trip included a visit to the Irish Rope factory in Newbridge, Co. Kildare. Tanzania supplied sisal for the rope manufactured there at the time.
My mother decided she wanted to see him for eye! She set off by bus from Naas. When she arrived, she met an acquaintance who brought her to be introduced, being the mother of a missionary in Tanzania. Mam told me afterwards that he asked her three questions. “Where was I working?” “What was I doing?” and “Was I happy?”
On her return home, she told my Dad that she had met the President. He was naturally quite sceptical!
I remembered that one of our sisters was working in Dar es Salaam, where the newspaper was published. She very kindly got me a copy of the photograph which, of course, is now a treasured possession!
by Mary Essiet Nigeria 21.03.2016
The forty days of Lent for this year had long begun. A sacred period of fasting, prayer and almsgiving. How has it been so far for you? I hope you’ve been following the MMM Lenten reflection series. If not, please sign up here:
https://mailchi.mp/e7e80904edfb/6e7l5u5w9d
As part of the central theme of the season, it is common practice for people to give up something as a form of fasting. Beyond the prayers and almsgiving, everywhere you turn, someone is encouraging that we give up something for Lent- snacking between meals, a luxurious lifestyle, the beautiful clothes lying dormant in the wardrobe for some time now, and whatever else you can think of. All these sacrifices are so we can create room for others who do not have the opportunity to also experience and enjoy the basic things of life.
Now, because you’ve heard so much about abstinence, ‘Forty things to give up for Lent’, I’m not writing to repeat them. Rather, I write to introduce you to another concept – taking up. I suppose you’ve been practicing it already. Maybe just not in a grand style.
For some of us, when we attempt to abstain from something during Lent, there’s a void and sometimes we are unable to handle this void so what do we do? We replace it with another thing. You know, cut down on social media time and replace it with more Netflix time. The same Joe, minor difference. Now, instead of only giving up something for Lent, think of it as a way to build all those beautiful habits you’ve been planning on for ages. A beautiful way to fill the void, right?
Don’t get it wrong, this is an addition in every sense of it. You do not stop giving up because you want to add up. Moreover, picking up means putting down so it will make more sense that both go hand in hand.
What if, in addition to cutting down on your social media time, you create room for prayers, reading of the Scripture and forming meaningful connections with God? What if, in addition to not using negative words on yourself, you start gratitude journalling? What if, in addition to avoiding unnecessary spending, you added generosity?
As the season unfolds, ask yourself not only “what am I giving up?” but also “what am I adding up?”.
Wishing you a rewarding Lenten season.
Sr. Jo Anne Kelly, MMM Ireland 18.03.2026
As a child we lived in a rural area in Northern Ireland and attended the local primary school. We had two classrooms, one upstairs for the “Mistress” and the lower classes, and one downstairs for the “Master” and the higher classes. They were two great teachers. I only appreciated this later when I went to secondary school in town and realised how we had been taught to open our minds to a wide range of knowledge and to learn so much by heart, all possibly because we were small in number.
We lived close to the school, so much so, that at lunch time we ran home for the tea, homemade bread and jam that my mother had ready, and were back again to join in the playtime games.
There were five priests in our parish and each of them had schools which they visited regularly. We had Fr. Mike. He came from the town on his bicycle. We loved his visits as he explained to us what we then called “Bible History”, explained the Gospel stories and all that Jesus did when He was on earth. Once he was explaining how Jesus was preaching and healing and the people made a hole in the roof of the house where he was, to get a sick man in for Jesus to heal. Fr. Mike asked us why they had to make a hole in the roof. My brother, a shy boy who rarely offered a response of any kind, said “Because the queue outside was too long.”
I was so embarrassed by his answer and others were too. The word “queue” was our new word which we learnt because of being in wartime. There were queues for tea, for sugar, for butter, for bread, for every kind of foodstuffs but I couldn’t associate the word queue with Jesus or the Gospel. Then Fr. Mike, who, no doubt, saw our reaction, said “Yes, the man was very sick, and the queue was too long.”
On his way down from the school, Fr. Mike sometimes called to my mother for a cup of tea. On one such occasion he told her he had bought a “wee” car and was learning to drive. There were few cars around then and it was long before Driving Schools or Driving lessons. In front of our house was a small vacant space, big enough to park a car. We called it the “street”. So, the next week Fr. Mike arrived on our street with his car. He said he wouldn’t be able to manage the hill up to the school or the narrow winding road with its three sharp corners. So, he parked the car on our street and went off walking up the hill. This went on for a few weeks.
Then one day he stopped and said he would give it a try, and my mother heard the car revving up the hill. She waited anxiously to hear it coming back and eventually it did. He was quiet and she made the tea.
After a while she said “Well, how did you get on?”. He said, “She made a gallant effort to get over the hedge at the last corner, but I got her turned. The children must have been praying for me.” He was delighted with himself.!
by Paul Campbell SJ USA 14.03.2026
I understand that some people are “allergic” to poetry, but one of my favorites is so short and wondrous that I believe even those with a severe allergy can appreciate it.
It comes from the late-lamented Mary Oliver [d. 2019] and the title isn’t that much shorter than the entire poem – “Instructions for living a life.”
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
In these seven words are a whole philosophy of life.
Pay Attention
• Being appreciatively aware of our surroundings is essential. Tony de Mello, the Indian Jesuit author, used to insist that we all need to “wake up.”
• As we pay attention, we become alive to the smallest details in our lives and can revel in nature and everyday “sacramental” moments. Doing this, we become more connected to the world with all its wonder and beauty.
Be Astonished
• Paying attention cultivates a sense of wonder within us. It opens us up to the miracles of the natural world and allows us to savor all its mysteries.
• The feeling of astonishment leads us to embrace feelings of awe, which can enrich our experiences and perspectives.
Tell About It
• In some sense, if we don’t share our observations and experiences with others, we’re short-circuiting the flow of the gift of paying attention.
• Further, in sharing what we notice we can come to a deeper understanding and a richer appreciation of life.
• Our sharing can inspire others to pay attention and, like us, to be astonished.
Let’s ask the Lord to help us pay more attention.
by Sr. Ruth Percival, MMM England/Ireland 11.03.2026
On Sunday, 2nd March, as usual, Fr Cleophas Lungu from Zambia, came from the hospital to say Mass for us. He came with a fellow Zambian priest friend, Fr Frank, who is working in a Parish in Athlone.
Mass was offered for a young Saint Patrick’s Missionary Society Theology student, Emmanuel, from Nigeria, who was killed in a car accident in Nairobi the other day. Two of our African sisters here in Drogheda, had both known him in Nigeria, as they were in early formation together. We prayed for Emmanuel, his family, friends, his missionary Society and those who were injured.
Today’s Gospel is the powerful account of the Transfiguration of Jesus on top of the very high mountain, witnessed by the three disciples Jesus chose to take with him, Fr Cleophas reminded us of how hard it is to climb a mountain and how much harder it is to come down, very symbolic for these days of Lent
He also reminded us of the Speech by Martin Luther King, “I have Dream”. Surely, we remember that powerful speech that this great man of justice and peace made. In that speech he spoke of having climbed the mountain, of not being afraid any more…..
At this Mass we prayed too in thanksgiving that Sr Ursula, our Congregational Leader, had returned safely from an unplanned visit to Angola and that Sr Clara had heard in time not to start her journey to Nigeria for everything has “exploded “ in the middle East due to Trump attacking Iran and no one can forecast what will happen.
As MMMs we are called to hold the whole world in the prayer of our hearts. How can we do that today? Yes, God and God’s mercy are greater than anything that we can understand or imagine but how tiny and helpless we are in the face of such enormity, of so many countries at war, so much hatred including talk of a looming war in South Sudan. And what will happen to the people and children of Gaza now?
Since we were children we have heard God’s promises, promises of love, of protection and we know they are true but I believe that this is truly a time of struggling with our own beliefs until we too reach that mountain top and we, plus those we carry in our hearts are freed of all our doubts and pain, until we are transformed and transfigured.
