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.
by Nadia Ramoutar, MMM Communications Coordinator Ireland 07.03.2026
On Sunday, 8th March we celebrate International Women’s Day (IWD) which began in 1911. IWD was never meant to be a superficial celebration. Its roots began in Europe as a response to the horrific conditions for working women, the lack of political access to vote or run for office and issues of major inequality and even safety. 2026, IWD marks 115 years of collective action toward gender equality. Clearly since, many issues for girls and women have improved. Each generation has built on the courage of those before it, pushing boundaries and redefining what is possible – and yet, there still remains much to do.
I have been writing articles about International Women’s Day for decades. So I decided in an attempt to be trendy this year, to ask Ai if “gender equality is possible?”
The response:
“Gender equality is considered possible but remains a long-term goal requiring significant, sustained effort to overcome deep-seated structural barriers, social norms, and economic disparities. While progress has been made, current trends suggest it could take over 100 years to achieve full equality in areas like leadership and legal protection.”
Well, that was discouraging but was it also a wake-up call to me in my work for females in the world?
The disparities that Ai referred to in the modern world are very real. For example, every day, women around the world do 16 billion hours of unpaid care work. Let that sink in. It gives a whole new meaning to Billionaire doesn’t it?
Cleaning, cooking, fetching water, looking after children and the elderly – these are just some of the essential and daily tasks women and girls predominantly take on though not necessarily by choice. We live in a time now where women are not only expected to do all this caring daily but are also expected to work for an income outside of the home too.
Women also don’t seem to have access to the power of making decisions yet. We see that across cultures the division of gender in the highest paying roles and in the major decision making roles are still with the males. We are in a time of great polarity in the world and many people are just becoming poorer. Especially women and girls.
The other thing is that in parts of the world, some young people don’t believe that there are issues in gender inequality. The idea that “we have done enough” for gender equity is on the rise. When clearly we have not – just ask Chat GPT.
We have not found a way to spread the idea that gender equity is good for men and for women. We see propaganda often fuelled by politicians and media who capitalise on a “zero-sum game narrative”. This is not the case. We will all better from girls and women being treated fairly everywhere. We still need to give this effort to gain a better world for all.
by Sr. Margaret Anne Meyer, MMM USA 04.03.2026
Water is a very precious commodity in Africa. I loved listening to it while it is beating down on the roof at night, knowing how good it was doing for the crops. Yet water could also be destructive if it rained too much. Rivers would be swollen and fields of maize flooded. It also created breeding grounds for anopheles’ mosquitoes which caused malaria to strike. One such place in Tanzania was called Mto wa Mbu in Swahili, River of Mosquitos, in English, a place where tragedy often happened.
Life continued more or less the same until November 1982 when severe rains caused a flash flood to occur along the road from Babati to Dareda Hospital. Fr. John Kelly and I were returning from Arusha. We saw a fast-flowing river raging across the road. We tried to cross but the car stalled. We waited a while, praying, and hoping the water level would recede. Instead, the water came into the car up to seat level. We left the car and tried to walk through the flowing water. A large tree stump knocked us down. Father John held on to me with one hand and his flashlight with the other. I asked for absolution because I thought I was going to die. Father John did not give it because he thought I would be hysterical. It was around 9pm. He was taking me to Dareda Hospital because I had developed malaria and did not feel well. By this time, the water was up to our chest, and I felt very unsteady on my feet. I did not think I could walk. Father John told me the dry land was not too far away. Somehow, I managed to turn my body on the diagonal and lessened the force of the water which was raging against us. Father said from then on, “I pushed him out of the water.” We were greatly relieved and thanked God. We obtained shelter in a local house and rescue came the next day. Father John had seen a bus driver passing by and asked him to tell the hospital authorities that we were stranded.
We thanked God for the safe outcome. When Father celebrated the Mass of Thanksgiving, we sang, ‘Be not afraid.’ I know now what it is to pass through raging waters and to be afraid.
During the time of recovery from malaria, I had the chance to visit Sr. Francis Xavier, MMM. She was attending a congregational meeting in Maua. She told me all about Sr. Therese Stanley’s death by drowning. Although this tragic event took place in 1971 in Nigeria, it was still difficult for her to tell me. Sr. Therese was much loved and admired. She had been superior of the novitiate house in Winchester. She was a powerful swimmer, and I had been in the water with her quite a few times. I felt incredibly sad that she had to die in this manner. May she rest in peace.
On hindsight we could have reversed at the ‘river” and gone to our Nutritional and Public Health Clinic in Babati. Sr. Jeane Lynch, Sr. Mechtilde Robinson and a Maryknoll Sister were doing marvelous work there, and after a few more years Sr. Margaret Garnet prepared the way for handover to the local Staff. Sr. Martha Collins, Sr. Joseph Anthony Navin, and Sr. Jeane Lynch had started this preventive health project in the mid 70’s. Sr. Margaret Garnett, who was English, then joined us in Dareda Hospital. She was there when Prince Charles married Diana. We had little dishes of red, white, and blue wildflowers on the table. We all enjoyed a very festive dinner to celebrate the occasion.
We enjoyed our internationality and God’s protection of our endeavors.
By Sr. Teresa Hogan, MMM Ireland 28.02.2026
I take mirrors for granted – and even peep in every now and again!
I cannot remember when I first looked in a mirror, nor if I knew it was myself I was looking at as a small child! Mirrors are so much part of life in Ireland it is like asking me when I first saw a dog – I just don’t know. One of the great joys of living in foreign countries with people of vastly different cultures is learning what is not familiar, even strange, and very new to them. I remember an incident where a mirror was a very new experience. Let me share this with you.
Sometime in the mid 80’ in Turkana Desert in Kenya the Flying Doctors came to our mission in Kakuma to operate on the many patients we had assembled. The majority of these surgeries were on young children with hydatid cysts. One little girl, called Nakubusian, of about four years of age had a very large invasive cyst so the medical team agreed to take her in the plane to the Kenyatta National Hospital in Nairobi for more complex surgery. They were flying off next day, so we had a big rush to get clothes and provisions for the mother, Akiru. We would drive ourselves in a little blue Daihatsu to Nairobi with Akiru. Unfortunately, the plane could only fit the small child.
At crack of dawn, I set out with another Sister, Sr. Andre Brow. Akiru and plenty of drinking water, some food and all the warm clothes we could find for both on the long safari of over 700 kms. for their stay in Nairobi. Akiru was understandably anxious and we tried our best to assure her that we would reach the very same place as the plane – though of course much slower! We made a few stops along the way to stretch our legs, get a soda, and put on another layer of clothing. In Nakuru we decided to go into a hotel and get dressed up more fully as it was getting decidedly cool for travellers from the Turkana desert! We asked the hotel owner if we could use a bedroom although not staying to tog out and she graciously allowed us to do so.
I was on my way into the room when I heard a very loud shriek : “Oitakoi! Oitakoi! Kareca, ayong ya, ayong ya!” I came rushing in to find Akiru in front of a full-size mirror almost hysterical and shouting aloud the words above which translate in English as:
“ Whaaat it’s me there! It’s me there” ….!
I rushed over and stood beside her and then she also recognised me in the mirror. I must have looked exactly as she saw me in real life as she calmed down a lot and even smiled and again said out loud : “Oitakoi! Oitakoi!”
We reached Nairobi and managed our way through the chaotic traffic to reach the Kenyatta Hospital where Akiru and little Nakabusian were reunited on the 7th floor and where she was warmly greeted by many other people from Turkana having specialist surgery. The journey back several days later was very sad and difficult as the little girl did not survive the operation. Our medical missionary work brought great joy and fulfilment so often, but we also saw immense suffering as parents lost precious children. Sadly, Nakabusian did not return with us.
by Sr. Sheila Campbell, MMM Ireland 25.02.2026
Recently I heard a Redemptorist priest in Clonard Monastery, Belfast, talk about that line in the Gospel where Jesus tells us to “let our light shine” (Mt. 5:16) He was making the point that it is easy for us to consider ourselves as sinners. After all, hasn’t that idea been drummed into us since we were small!! It is much harder for us to think of ourselves in a positive light, as having something good to contribute to the world.
As usual, when I hear something that strikes me, I go away and mull over it for a day or two. Well, yes, but thinking that you have something positive to give to the world, can that not lead to self-importance and puffing ourselves up? God help us, but we have enough ego maniacs in the world at the moment without encouraging more.
But I think I begin to glance at another way of looking at this. What if we consider ourselves both as sinners and light? That does not get us off the hook from taking decisions every day to befriend others, to reach out, to comfort those who are grieving, to do charitable acts.
Perhaps this Lent I am being called to be positive in my approach to others rather than constantly beating my breast for the times when I am not as good as I want to be.
“Let your light shine before all, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” Mt. 5:16
by Fr. Paul Campbell, S.J. USA 21.02.2026
For decades, I believed that I had to “give something up” for Lent. It’s why, for instance, to this day, that I don’t take either milk or sugar in my tea. When I tried adding them again on Easter Sunday, I’d lost my taste for those additives. [I should add that I’ve often given up alcohol for Lent only to discover that “miraculously” I still enjoy it at Eastertime!]
About twenty years ago, I came across this 1648 poem by Robert Herrick [at the back of the Breviary,] and it changed my perspective considerably.
To Keep a True Lent
Is this a fast, to keep
The larder lean?
And clean
From fat of veals and sheep ?
Is it to quit the dish
Of flesh, yet still
To fill
The platter high with fish?
Is it to fast an hour,
Or ragg’d to go,
Or show
A downcast look and sour?
No; ‘tis a fast to dole
Thy sheaf of wheat,
And meat,
Unto the hungry soul.
It is to fast from strife,
From old debate
And hate;
To circumcise thy life.
To show a heart grief-rent;
To starve thy sin,
Not bin;
And that’s to keep thy Lent.
Fasting has been a long and long and honored tradition in many religions, including Christianity. I’m not arguing against self-denial but I do think it’s an important reminder that we need to “starve” ourselves of sin above anything else.
by Sr. Jo Anne Kelly, MMM Ireland 18.02.2026
For some years I was Vocation Directress for our congregation. There were many religious Congregations of Woman in the country, and many young women interested in joining . At times I got numerous applications. I replied to every written application and if the girl continued corresponding so also did I.
We had visits to our house, get-togethers and retreats, and something I deemed very important, was my visit to the girl’s family. Being an international congregation, we were not very well known except in areas where we worked. My story is about a girl I will call Olivia.
Olivia was a nurse. She told me her mother really supported her and was proud that she wanted to be a religious sister. Her father, however, was very much against her entering. He was quite old with lots of health problems, and he just could not understand why she would not stay at home and look after him. And, he looked forward to more grandchildren.
When I arrived to visit the mother had gone to the market and Olivia didn’t know if her father would agree to see me or not. I told her to ask him and he said yes.
I entered the little portico that led into the house, and he was there on a mattress on the floor, seemingly in a lot of pain and unable to move much. He told Olivia to bring a chair for me. I sat down and asked him about his pains, what he was getting to help, and what he could still do. He was full of complaints. I suggested some things that might give some relief. I didn’t mention Olivia. Eventually he did and went on for a while about what he thought of her ideas. He said, “She tells me God is calling her, but I don’t know how she hears what God is saying when she can’t hear what her own father is saying”.
But he was interested. He asked some very good questions about the congregation and about religious life and eventually he asked Olivia to get the key of the ‘room.’ To my amazement he sat up, then stood up with the help of crutches, and moved haltingly into a lovely sitting room. He asked Olivia to bring the drinks.
While we were drinking, he told me something of his own involvement in the Church. He was one of the first Catholics in the village and very committed.
When I was leaving, with the help of Olivia, he walked to the car with me. As I sat into the car he said, “Before you go, I want you to know that none of this is your fault.” It was so touching, I could have cried.
Olivia did enter but shortly after she herself decided religious life was not for her and she left.
At Thanksgiving time, two American Lutheran Missionaries invited us three American MMMs to join their celebrations. Singida was a good place for expatriates to meet and share some time together. We loved eating some American food and watching the video of “Oklahoma”. At that time, we did not have a video player or TV in Makiungu. It was a short car ride between the two places.