by Nadia Ramoutar MMM Communications Coordinator Ireland 14.05.2025
In answer to the question is the glass half full or half empty, people give answers based on the way they see the world. For many of us, the world can be a disappointing place as we see more instances of violence, famine, drought and despair. If we work in the Mission realm, we do so with faith that things can and will improve. Often though, we are not able to show up in the world consistently without being a realist. I have come to the place in my life where the glass is what it is.
Sometimes I am asked if I am optimist as I plan new campaigns for charity or events. I feel the term carries a certain judgement with it. I may be wrong, but it feels that pessimism is not only a drag for the person but for everyone they encounter. You may have read Viktor Frankl’s incredible book “Man’s Search for Meaning” about his experience in the Holocaust. It is one of the most powerful books I have ever read – and I have read a LOT of books.
In it he points out that the people who fared the worst in the concentration camps were the optimists. As a result of his time there he later developed a theory that through a search for meaning in life, people can endure and overcome suffering, Frankl also says that people cannot pursue success or happiness, it is an unintended side effect of a personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself.
As we face challenges in the world that are unprecedented due to the Wars in the Middle East and Ukraine, rising prices and the environmental impact of the climate crisis we could easily lose heart. But we can be uplifted by Frankl and other people who faced conflict like Mahatma Gandhi that our role on the journey to peace brings value.
“Peace is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to cope with it.”
Mahatma Gandhi famously once said. It is almost naïve to think that humans will not have conflict somewhere when they have for thousands of years without fail. So, what remains is the cultivation of our ability to cope.
One of the great resources in coping is the collaboration with one another. What might seem overwhelming for one of us can be addressed by many. We are fortunate to have a great team in the MMM Communication Department and we tackle projects that could easily overwhelm us as a team. I think that the ability to cope comes from confidence we can have in those closest to us.
Perhaps we cannot solve all the worlds’ problems, but we can do what we can do. Along with other like-minded people we can do even more. I love the phrase “if you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” Somewhere on the path as we seek answers we may be rewarded with sprinklings of joy to reward our realism.
by Sr. Sheila Campbell MMM Ireland 10.05.2025
Life teaches us many lessons. My biggest learning was to be flexible! Life is constantly changing, and I have learnt to weave my way through it, trying to respond as best I can, to the needs of the local people of God and to my community. At times I have struggled with some assignments I have been given. For example, I trained as a nurse, but I do not like hospital nursing! Yet I spent three years as one of only two trained nurses in a rural by in Brazil because I knew it was the need at that time. I knew I was in the right place.
Life teaches us that we cannot control global events, but we can respond to them creatively. I think of the many MMMs who stayed with the local people when war and conflict broke out. I think of others who address emerging issues like human trafficking and climate change.
For me, mission happens in the cracks of ministry – a chance word of encouragement spoken, a smile, a shoulder to cry on, a listening presence – often these gestures have meant more to people than my formal position. Being flexible means constantly adapting, constantly fitting in to new cultures, learning language, understanding the other person´s point of view. I come from Northern Ireland and we grew up with an ultra sensitivity to the two cultures that share our small patch of land. I think I have developed and broadened that concept as a religious.
Life is just a vast classroom of learning – I haven’t arrived at the exam level yet!
by Sr. Berna Nakimuli MMM Uganda 07.05.2025
Hope is a flame that flickers bright
A beacon in darkness, a guiding light
It shines like a star
Illuminating paths, as we wander by
With every breath it whispers
“Do not despair, for help is near, do not let go.”
It lifts our hearts, and strengthens our soul
Giving us courage
In sorrow, it’s a gentle friend
A comforting presence, that helps us mend
The fragments of dreams, the shards of our past
Hope helps us to heal
Like a river flowing, it carves its way
Through the landscape of life, come what may
It nourishes and sustains all that’s good
A symbol of promise, for me and you.
So hold on to hope, like a lifeline in the night
A reminder of dawn, and the morning’s delight
For in its light, we will find the strength to carry on.
by Sr. Noeleen Mooney, MMM Ireland 28.05.2025
Until I came from Tanzania back to Ireland, I hadn’t realized just how much my attitude to rain had changed. When it rains here, I hear people describe it as ‘a dirty day’ or ’miserable weather’. Maybe these are only conventions of speech, but they strike me as being hollow and untrue.
Living in a semi desert, as I did in Tanzania for many years, with not a drop of rain for at least seven months of the year, has changed my concept of what rain is and does.
I remember the collective anxiety when the time for the beginning of the rainy season draws near. The scanning of the sky to see if the little puffs of white clouds might join together; the bursting forth of the jacaranda trees – all the preludes to what you hope for, but can never take for granted.
When the rain does come, it’s a steady downpour, drumming on the corrugated roofs and releasing the most marvellous smell of freshness. Many insects that have been waiting for just such a signal begin to emerge. The sandy fields are all prepared, back breakingly with a hoe; maize, millet, sorghum and beans are all planted in hope.
Each year we pray that the rain will be enough, that it won’t be too heavy and flatten the tender shoots – that it will last long enough.
In recent years the rainy season has become shorter. You can imagine what this means in a country where, at least in the rural areas, families are expected to grow enough food for their own needs.
Sandy soil doesn’t retain water. A few days without rain at the crucial time is enough to wither the sturdiest stalks.
No social welfare or crop failure compensation exists – just certain hunger before the next planting season.
So, you see, rain for me can never be ‘miserable weather’ but a life-sustaining blessing from God.
by Sr. Sheila Devane MMM Ireland 03.05.2025
Every winter from January to the end of March a ballroom dancing programme is aired on TV here in Ireland called “Dancing with the Stars.” I am an avid supporter as I enjoy ballroom dancing, live performance, spectacle, music, stage production, the commentary and all that makes for a glittering reality show of great talent and with a competition to boot!
In this programme twelve well known public personalities or “stars” volunteer to take part and each is matched with a professional ballroom dancer, some of international fame. The pro dancer teaches the star and the couples compete with each other every week until only four couples are left for the grand finale. No star should have ever taken any kind of dancing lessons before so we have actors, athletes, celebrity chefs, singers, news reporters, influencers, scientists and more all trying out their ballroom dancing skills for the first time.
For the first three weeks there are no eliminations so the couples each perform the particular dance they are assigned and are then graded by the four judges with the public also voting in to mark them. Being an entertainment show, and not a formal dancing competition, it is the public vote that counts most but I always enjoy listening to the comments from the judges and especially from the crotchy one who usually gives the most relevant feedback.
The costumes, make-up, lighting, and sets are quite spectacular and each week there is a group dance by the pros that is riveting in both its skill and creative composition. It is televised from our studio in Ardmore and not open to the public except for a small audience of people usually related to the stars such as their families. My own interest is such that I managed to get a ticket to the second last show before it was closed down for Covid as I knew someone, who in turn knew someone who knew Dennis the chief cameraman! So, I was there in person once and got to see it live and to witness too all the back-stage shenanigans. What an event!
I usually vote and this year chose to support one of our Olympians, Jack Woolley, a taekwondo athlete; I admire his character and life. He comes from a very deprived area in Dublin and succeeded in representing Ireland admirably at the Paris’ Olympics. When he came home he was attacked and seriously injured in the city centre by a group of homophobic young men – all because he is gay; he showed immense courage in the manner in which he managed the situation, forgiving them publicly and now collaborating to improve their lives. A powerful role model.
I allowed nothing interfere with this programme each Sunday evening but on the last night I was invited to a family meal. I hoped everyone would eat quickly and that I would somehow manage to convince the hostess – who doesn’t follow this programme – that this was a “must see” event for me! She had no problem and though she wasn’t watching she came over now and again to see how it was going. When it was all over and the winner announced she said to me:… “this must remind you of the wonderful dancing you saw so often in Africa.” She had visited West Africa herself while her daughter was on diplomatic mission there and had seen traditional dancing at various events. She thought it was magnificent and asked me which particular dances I most remembered.
In this short conversation I quickly realised that “Dancing with the Stars” while superb, was second to the Turu dancing of the people of Singida, Tanzania. Their rhythmic, full body movements, time keeping, and incredible ability to dance together as one were of another order and way beyond anything I ever saw in any show. They dance to a story of their culture and customs and each one embodies it so majestically that it is like a prayer. My hostess was right I had seen the most amazing dancing in Africa by the great dancing stars of Singida called the Wanyturu. Let me salute and thank them in their own language – Wajifya.
This is a uTube of their dancing https://youtu.be/k3Kfqso6_Ng?si=pqbiF-lDYVd6DpNZ
by Sr. Margaret Anne Meyer MMM USA 30.04.2025
Sr. Louisa Ritchie came in 1967 to relieve Sr. Evangelist. She was wonderful in the theater and an exceptionally good sister in charge. It was not an easy time. There were always attacks on the Baganda and one day Sr. Patricia Bransfield and Agnes Manifold who had recently joined us went to Masaka Hospital to get blood. The Mayor of Masaka was dumped out of the trunk of a Volkswagen riddled with bullets. The next day a picture of him was in the paper saying he died of natural causes and was brought to Maska Hospital for treatment. Sr. Mairead Gorman and I had been at the Counsels Cloisters a fancy name for the Government building in Maska where we enjoyed a sundowner at which he was enthroned as Mayor. I was terribly upset to see a man of his dignity treated so badly. How could one believe the newspapers? He felt like a personal friend.
This incident happened around 1972-73. I t was the time of General Iddi Amin Dadda who had taken over the country on Jan 25th, 1971 while President Obote was out of the country. At first Amin was considered a hero by the Buganda people because he brought the Kabaka’s body back from England for a State Burial. nKabaka was the old King who had been deposed. nIt was about 11 months later when we suspected things were not as they appeared. nA priest was shot for writing something adverse about Amin in the newspaper “Muno”. His car was burned to cover up the murder, but people knew and spread the word about what really happened. I had known this priest and grieved a lot for him and for our country, Uganda.
As I said before it was not an easy time to live in the country and every time an attempt on Amin’s life was made, he would go on a rampage and kill the Ancholi tribe. b During one of these times, a woman had a caesarean section and the next day she asked to go home because her husband was a police officer of the Ancholi tribe, and she feared he would be killed. bAs much as I did not want her to go too early, I did not want her husband to be in danger. bI was delighted to see her back six months later with her little son, Caesar, who had measles. At At that time, the complications of measles were the cause of death for many children. Some had to have tracheotomies in order breathe. The use of steroids reduced this. Thank God little Caesar did well, and the family were all reunited.
by Ann Marie Hook AMMM USA 26.04.2025
“To recognize something as beautiful, sometimes all it takes is a change of perspective.” – Christian Cooper
In the late summer of 1975, my husband, Steve, our two-year old daughter, Stephanie, and I went on a trip from our home in the desert of central New Mexico to the mountains of southern Colorado. While driving toward home one afternoon, we wondered where we would spend the night. Soon, we passed a hand-painted sign that read “Love’s Cabins,” with an arrow that pointed to a narrow dirt road and led up the mountain. It looked to us like the just the place we were looking for.
We were pleased when we arrived at a group of small, rustic cabins and met Mrs. Love, an elderly widow who owned the property. We were in luck. She had one cabin left to rent. It was a lovely mountain retreat and we decided to spend a few days there. We soon came to know Mrs. Love as “Auntie Jo” and she was a wonderful, caring hostess. She made sure we moved into a cabin with indoor plumbing as soon as possible because we had another baby on the way. She thrilled with Stephanie’s adventures in the mountains and when Stephanie got “fussy” indoors, Auntie Jo reminded us to “take her outside and make her world bigger”. (This advice served us well as we raised all our children.)
However, every spring I am reminded of this question that she asked me: “Do you know what my favorite flower is?” I thought the question puzzling and had no idea of the answer because there were many beautiful flowers around the cabins. When I told her that I did not know, she replied, “The dandelion, because it is the first flower of spring after the long hard winter. It brings with it the hope of warmth and new life.”
At first, her answer surprised me, probably because I grew up in a suburb of New York City where plush, weed-free lawns were sought after. There, dandelions were dug up and discarded as soon as possible. However, Auntie Jo’s comment changed my perspective and I no longer look upon a dandelion as an unwanted weed. Now, as I look through my kitchen window and see three bright, yellow dandelions in the flowerbed, I think fondly of “Auntie Jo” and am grateful for her wisdom. Recently, I read a reflection by Joyce Rupp on perspective in which she said, “Perspective influences the way I look through what is before me and how I view what lies beyond it.” I believe this is true not only of dandelions but of many things in life.
by Nadia Ramoutar MMM Communications Coordinator Ireland 23.04.2025
This may seem obvious, but war is bad for babies.
A recent UN report shows what looks like promising news that deaths for children under five years of age has gone down by 50% in the past 25 years. But what that statistic does not reflect is that in areas of the world where specific efforts are being made, great results have taken place that offer us some insight. While is the poorest areas, things are much worse. That’s the problem with statistics.
According to the report, “ progress to save children’s lives is possible, even in resource-constrained settings.” Specifically the report shows that several low-income and lower-middle-income countries have made remarkable strides in reducing under-five mortality rates: Cambodia, Malawi, Uzbekistan and Rwanda have all reduced under-five mortality by over 75 per cent since 2000 for example. These countries offer compelling evidence of what can be achieved in child survival when high-impact interventions reach the most vulnerable populations.”
Now, if you know anything about math, the fact that some countries have reduced their rates by 75% then we know the rates are still climbing in other parts of the world where less focused efforts are being made.
We also know too that this year we have seen major changes in funding and health assistance globally which will negatively impact the poorest women and children the most. Those who needed the help desperately will not be able to get it.
In war-torn areas, of which there are increasingly more, there will be a serious issue in trying to keep babies alive in that fragile first 28 days of life. We know that the mothers, already stressed and challenged in war-torn areas will have even greater grief facing the loss of a child.
American Scholar Cornell West famously said “Justice is what love looks like in public.” I often think of this quote when I consider that we still live in a world where justice for a baby depends on their geography. Who they are born to and where they are born predicts if they will get to live or not. That just seems like a kind of spiritual citizenship that is wrong on several levels.
We are faced with some seriously dark times in which billionaires seem to get richer and more powerful and the most needy will fall into a bleak oblivion. Whatever we can do to address this massive imbalance we are called upon to do.
Perhaps it is just meditate in our spiritual reflection about this massive imbalance. It may be to get active in mission work or make a donation. Perhaps it is to just pray for justice.
But in a world where there seems to be little regards for justice, we need to all agree, that war is bad for babies, always was and always will be.
by Sr. Sheila Campbell MMM Ireland 20.04.2025
Today we celebrate the Risen Christ. Alleluia! But do we really understand the full meaning of the Risen Christ? The older I get in years, the more I realize that I am only at the beginning of my understanding.
When I was a novice, we had a great Scripture teacher, Sr. Maura Ramsbottom MMM and I never forget her talk on the Easter Scriptures. Her whole body vibrated with excitement as she shared the story of Mary Magdalene coming to the empty tomb. Jesus says to Mary Magdalene “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to my Father”.
Do not cling to me. I am someone different. I have changed. How often do I cling to a person, to an idea, to be ‘my’ kind of person instead of freeing them to be themselves? Accepting Easter is accepting radical change. Things are different now. I can remain trapped in old ways, or I can open myself to the excitement and thrill of developing a new relationship. It is a little scary to move outside of our comfort zone but deep down we know it is where we are called to, to find new life.
And then there is the second part, “I have not yet ascended to my Father”. That brings me to a second pondering. So much of our religion focuses on God as being directly concerned with this earth, with humanity. And maybe rightly so, because this is where we are. If we believe in the Incarnation of Jesus, we must take our humanness seriously. But God is much bigger than anything we can think of or put into human language. There is the universe with its billions and billions of stars and galaxies. Are there other worlds out there where God is equally involved? And the universe itself is only the part we can fathom with our human understanding and science. Are there other ‘realities’? The more you think about it, the wider the concept becomes.
Maybe it all come down to “Do not cling to me”. Let God be God, not trying to keep God within my comfortable God image. Yes, I believe in the Resurrection, in hope, in the future. Do I understand it? Only a fraction! So today I say “Alleluia!” and keep up the pondering.
by Sr. Jo Anne Kelly MMM Ireland 19.04.2025
“What is happening? Today there is a great silence over the earth, a great silence and stillness, a great silence because the King sleeps” This is a quotation from an ancient homily in the Office of Readings for Holy Saturday.
On Holy Saturday morning in our village in Nigeria where we care for patients with leprosy, there is a silence, a quietness. Yesterday, Good Friday, we spent time with Jesus in His passion following Him to Calvary and keeping Vigil with Him until late in the night.
This morning we are up shortly after sunrise, to pick flowers in preparation for the Easter Vigil Mass. It is important to pick them while there is still a coolness in the air, and to keep them in water in the coolest place we can find.
The mood is sombre as the village people prepare for the evening. Women and young girls are in the church, sweeping, scrubbing and cleaning. The young men and boys keep them supplied with buckets of water from our new borehole, and help with moving of benches or any other heavier work. Older men collect palm fronds for decoration for the pathway to the church door. Others get branches and sticks of dry wood for the paschal fire, piled high some distance from the church door. All work according to their ability and mobility.
Later everyone will add some small stick, branch or twig to make that fire. The children are around everywhere finding ways to play and occupy themselves, older ones looking after younger ones.
The Sacristan has the privilege of preparing the Altar and Tabernacle, dressing them with freshly laundered linings, linens and drapes and other simple decorations. She and her flower girls will arrange the flowers later when the hot midday sun has passed. When fully prepared the church looks as beautiful as we could make it.
About mid – morning we have a visitor, a monk from the nearby Cistercian monastery. For his meditative morning walk he followed the course of the river, walking the banks through fields, fences and hedges eventually reaching the end of our village road. After a drink of refreshing cold water he wished us a happy Easter and took an easier way back to the monastery to get ready for the ceremonies he will lead for the Cistercian sisters.
We planned how all our people will be there for the ceremony. Most will come on foot, on crutches or in wheelchairs but some will need a car ride. All will be there. The fire will be lit early, a huge bonfire. Preparations continued and the mood lightened as we anticipated the beautiful ceremony, the music and singing and all that was to come. The children became more excited thinking of their new clothes and the big fire.
Just after dark we all gather. The children are fascinated with the big fire and delighted at the sparks flying high into the night sky. One little fellow, with his head back to look into the sky went too far and fell back. Luckily his older brother caught him before he hit the ground. With solemn ceremony the priest blesses the fire and from it lights the Paschal Candle, our sign and symbol that Jesus has risen, He is alive, our King no longer sleeps.
It is a night of Easter joy. With all our candles lighted we process to the church to celebrate Jesus our Risen Lord and King, who is here, Who loves us and is forever present to us.
