by Mary Essiet Nigeria 03.11.2024
The other day, I woke up really excited. I had beautiful plans for the day and held my head high as I imagined how gracious it would be. I went through my morning routine and set out to accomplish my goals for the day. Then I checked my mail. Thinking about it now, that wasn’t a good decision, as it drastically changed my mood. I was anticipating an acceptance email from one of the companies I had applied to. But guess what I got instead? A rejection email—you guessed right. The funny thing? They didn’t even use the usual format of appreciating one’s skills and expressing how much they wished they could work with me but couldn’t due to limited vacancies. No, they didn’t. It was an outright “you’ve not been selected.”
Anyway, I kept hope alive and boarded a taxi to work, only to arrive and realize that I had left an important document in the taxi—probably out of hurry. I reached out to the driver, and he promised to bring it back, but only much later in the day. I could manage since I was only working half a day.
As if that wasn’t enough, I slipped just as I was about to enter the banking hall, and my phone screen cracked badly. I only wanted to resolve an issue with a failed transaction I had over the weekend and maybe withdraw my “urgent 2k” to spoil myself because the day was definitely not going according to plan. How bad could a day be?!
Then, I remembered the popular saying: “happiness is a choice.” I did choose happiness that day, but given everything that had happened, could I keep up with that choice? Wouldn’t that be chaotic, as I’d only end up piling up my feelings for when I could no longer hold back? Well, as happiness wasn’t choosing me, I let myself feel all the emotions of that day but did so patiently and compassionately.
Forgive me for boring you with these details just to say: feel what you feel when you can feel it because happiness may be a choice, but it’s not a simple one. In some circumstances, this choice becomes unhealthy. But imagine if I barged into your room telling you that happiness may not be a choice after all; you’d instinctively begin to argue, and I didn’t want that for either of us. Bear with me, my love. Until next time.
by Nadia Ramoutar MMM Communications Coordinator Ireland 30.10.2024
Recently I was asked to speak on a Webinar about the MMM efforts for a Safe Birth 4 All campaign to make childbirth safer for women in Sub-Saharan Africa. I am very grateful to be involved in efforts to see the dangerous elements of death or injury in birthing be eased for all women, not just women in the Global North. I often say that geography dictating destiny is a sign of injustice. I say it so often that I am almost tired of hearing myself. But we have to keep sharing the stories of the women who don’t get to have a voice for themselves.
During the Webinar, another presenter spoke about the challenges of her role trying to educate girls in South Sudan. Her first-hand account of what she saw and experienced there was horrifying. I feel not enough people know enough about it – including me. When we look at the high numbers of injured or dying females giving birth, many are young, and their bodies are not capable of a safe unattended birth. But this is a causation that seems to go culturally noticed.
The presenter said that girls were used like cows as currency. Any male family member from the extended family had rights over the girl and could remove her from school to have her married. She never earned agency over her own body or education. Not even at 18.
According to Concern, the Irish NGO, there is a dire situation for females in South Sudan. Gendered Based Violence is the number one health risk for women and girls there. We may not think of it this way, but gendered violence includes forced or early marriage and happens for nearly half of all South Sudanese girls. Current statistics show that 45% of girls were married before their 18th birthday. For 7%, their marriage took place before they turned 15. Look around you and see teenage girls and imagine them being forced into a marriage.
Perhaps it is no surprise then that South Sudan has the fifth highest maternal mortality rate in the world: 1 in 7 women will die due to complications during pregnancy or childbirth. I want to pause here and think about what would happen if one of every seven women in New York or London or Toronto died in childbirth. Can you imagine?
The reasons for these high death rates are complex and based in many traditions do not serve the female population. The politics of the area don’t help. This is largely due to an infrastructure crippled by nearly a decade of conflict, which has led to an underdeveloped healthcare system and a severe shortage of skilled healthcare workers — especially for obstetrics and gynaecology.
We just cannot forget about these girls. We must continue to provide resources and awareness about these issues. I for one find this heartbreaking. I will not allow myself to just forget about these sisters overseas facing brutal odds with no options.
by Sr. Sheila Campbell MMM Ireland 27.10.2024
Each day I wake up listening to the radio. News bulletins come on each 30 minutes and then there are the longer programmes where the day’s happenings are gone over in more detail. Aren’t there times when you wish you could stick your head in the sand and forget all about the atrocities going on in our world?
I remember during “The Troubles” in Northern Ireland my parents in Belfast became news junkies too. I wonder does it really help to be so addicted to this living vicariously the tragedies of others. How do we draw the balance? How do we be present to the reality of our times without being overwhelmed by it? I wish I had an easy answer.
For me, one thing that helps is going back to our Benedictine spirituality. St. Benedict founded his monasteries in a time of civil turmoil too. The Benedictine motto of “Peace” and the emphasis on stability helps ground me when the going gets tough.
The Rule encourages us to develop the following qualities – humility, patience, simplicity, solitude, caring for others, and living in community – concern for everyone. It is a recipe for a simple, balanced and prayerful life. We do not cut ourselves off from our society, but we are not swallowed up by it too.
I also remind myself that there is a lot of good things happening too – but they do not hit the headlines. We all know people who visit the sick and the lonely, care for elderly relatives, volunteer in food banks and charity shops. Then there are the fund-raisers for charitable causes, the people who work quietly behind the scenes – we all know them.
So today, when tragic events are occurring, let’s stop for a moment and remember all the simple quiet ways people promote peace and good will among their fellow human beings. Let us say “yes” to collaborating in this quiet way and be ambassadors of peace in our troubled world.
by Sr. Jo Anne Kelly MMM Ireland 23.10.2024
Recently I watched a webinar on the campaign to raise awareness about Obstetric Vistula and the awful effect it has on so many women in the world, causing them loss of dignity and forcing them to live in isolation – as outcasts.
That webinar reminded me about many women I knew but especially about Eliza.
For some years I lived with Sr. Dr. Ann Ward who pioneered special techniques for surgical repair of obstetric fistula. Women came from far and near for the surgery. These women were very slow to make themselves known or to come out publicly.
One of our MMM Sisters, Winnie, in a distant mission, set up a plan for her area. She engaged people around the area to seek out the women and encourage them to come to her for help. The women started coming bit by bit as news went around.
Every three weeks Winnie, with a faithful driver, Augustine, made the trip in a minibus to the Family Life Centre where Sr. Ann worked, bringing with them the women who had agreed to come in. Winnie would stay overnight and next day take home the women of the previous trip who now had the surgery and were going home free.
Eliza was one of these women. Sr. Ann always said that every case was different. Eliza was different because she had an added complication and was not ready to go home with her group. She needed another week.
My own work took me to many parts of the country and it happened I was going in Eliza’s direction just over a week later. I offered to bring her home. I went to visit her a few times during the week, just so I wasn’t a complete stranger to her. Although she joined in the activities and social gatherings of the centre she was apprehensive. She was missing her group especially as she did not understand the local language. She had been to primary school and had quite good English. Having lived in more or less isolation for years, every new thing was a big adjustment, including going home and in a car.
hen, she would forget all of that and remember the one big, big thing that had happened – she was healed. She was quite ecstatic about that. She would throw up her arms, praise and thank God, praise and thank Dr. Ward and everybody else in the compound. One could not but rejoice with her then.
We set off early in the morning. She was quiet. I glanced round a few times. She was staring out, watching everything. I explained to her we were going home the way she had come. She said “I saw nothing when I was coming” Now she started seeing everything, houses, trees, children going to school, goats straying on the road, women with market stalls, fruit, bunches of bananas and plantain, naming everything she saw. Every now and again her hands would go up thanking God for it all. It was as if the world had opened up for her.
On the motorway there was little to see except road. I had a cassette player. Though my choice of music could not have been hers she sang along with everything, even the Irish tenors.
Nearing her area, I asked about her home and she told me we had passed the road to her home. I was stopping to turn back. She said No! No! I must first go and thank Sr. Winnie. I will find my way back. We saw Winnie, and she was well thanked.
I brought her home. Her village was miles off the main road. She was quiet then as she gave me directions and I knew this was a very big test for her. We stopped outside a little mud house. She made some kind of call. After some time a little old lady came out on her stick and whatever words Eliza said to her, her face changed, her old eyes lit up and the two women embraced and talked and hugged again and again.
As I was saying goodbye, the little old lady took my hand and started praying in her language.
Eliza said “My mother has given you her blessing.”
by Sr. Noeleen Mooney MMM Ireland 20.10.2024
This year, 2024, marks the fifteen hundredth anniversary of the death of Saint Brigid – a mid-boggling fact.
As a native of Kildare, I decided to make my annual retreat in Solas Bhride Christian Spirituality Centre, run by the Brigidine Sisters in Kildare town. In coming apart, I hoped to re-ignite in myself some of the flame which Brigid kindled, and which is very much alive in this place of prayer.
i stayed in one of the three hermitages on the grounds and self-catered with all the facilities provided. The grounds are very nature-friendly and as I ate my breakfast, I watched the rabbits outside my window nibbling theirs!
Also on the grounds is a labyrinth – ideal for slow meditation, a mini oak grove, formed from saplings planted in 2007 from the original oak tree in Tullow which was planted at the founding of the Brigidine Sisters in 1807.
The Centre itself is built in the shape of a St. Brigid’s Cross and is available to individuals and groups for all kinds of gatherings connected to the legacy of St. Brigid – spirituality, peace-making, care of creation, advocacy for the poor, and legendary hospitality, wonderfully carried out by the present Sisters and staff. St. Brigid’s flame is being tended in the Centre since it was re-lit in Kildare town in 1993 and burns as a beacon of hope, justice and peace for our world.
I visited the two St. Brigid’s wells nearby – one beside the National Stud – and was drawn into the mystery and call of holy wells. Daily Mass was celebrated in St. Brigid’s parish church, a fifteen-minute walk from the Centre, or in White Abbey, home of the Carmelite Fathers.
As a place of peace, solitude and prayer, I highly recommend it!
by Sr. Keresifon Ekanem MMM Nigeria 16.10.2024
Oh dear! I felt frustrated when I received the news that the supervision team from the Ministry of Health (MOH) to our Facility had asked me to stop practicing as a Nurse/Midwife in my first country of mission for some reasons about country policy. So, I won’t meet the pregnant women again, and will stop catching babies? I will really miss this!
Not to worry, a thought flashed into my mind, “You will meet them when they come for antenatal care and the mothers when they come for immunization.” Great! I will have more time now to give health talk to them. I will also go for more sensitization and outreach in the neighboring villages as well as do other tasks. Sure, I did!
Meanwhile, there was a need for a sonographer in our Ministry and a suggestion to delve into this field emerged. I grabbed it. Thanks to my community members, and leaders who recommended and approved it. The experience was great, and I am excited with this new skill. The fear of studying in a foreign language and the struggle was soon forgotten.
Remember my initial feeling? Frustration! What followed that was really fantastic! I met more pregnant women on daily basis and was in contact with babies even from their different stages of development in the womb. A very interesting experience! This experience reveals at every moment the awesomeness of God in His work which is beyond human comprehension. God is great, worthy of our praise and reverence. I feel excited about my new knowledge, and I am passionate about my work as I put this skill into use. It offers me an opportunity to still give full attention to mothers and children and care for them. This happens each day as I attend to mothers to check for the movements, heartbeats, sex, presentation, and the general well-being of their fetuses in the womb.
I see a deep connection it has with the dream of Mother Mary Martin, our Foundress, whose primary aim of founding the Congregation is the “Care for Mother and Child.” Meanwhile, it also offers an opportunity to share a message of hope and bring Christ to those whose reports do not meet their expectations. These expectations range from non-existence of pregnancy for those who assume they are pregnant, loss of a pregnancy (miscarriage), or not having the desired sex of their fetus. Rendering my services to these women is healing both to themselves and to their spouses who when they learn of the care and attention they receive also long to come and most importantly for them to see how their fetuses (babies) are doing in the womb. This gives them so much joy! Nevertheless, I now have the opportunity to use all my skills in my new mission and it is very valuable!
Really, “A blessing in disguise it was!”
by Sr. Margaret Anne Meyer MMM USA 13.10.2024
(continued from previous blog)
About three months into my surgical rotation, I received the news that I had to leave it and prepare to go to Uganda. I was shocked as well as pleased to be going on the missions to Uganda. Mr. Sheehan told me I would regret it. I was trying to follow what I had been told.
My parents wanted to see me before I left for Uganda but unfortunately my mother’ s brother died, and my father came with my brother, David, whom I had not seen for seven years. He was a boy of fourteen at a level with my shoulders when I left USA, and now he was a very handsome man of twenty-one, his six feet towering over me. I hardly recognized him. I was so extremely glad to see him. He showed me pictures of the beautiful woman, Judy, whom he intended to marry. Daddy liked her too. David stayed with the valet of Mother Mary’s brother and my Father stayed in the Guest Department. When it was time for David to leave, the kind valet packed his dirty clothes so well that the customs man in Kennedy airport thought he had bought new clothes in Ireland and wanted him to pay a fee. He had a tough time convincing him that these were his dirty clothes.
Mr. Sheehan, Dr. Connolly and their wives had been to a conference in Brooklyn, New York, a few months previously and my father had met them at Kennedy Airport and invited them home for dinner. They knew my father and invited him to their homes too. Dr. Marie Sheehan even gave my father the use of her car while he was visiting me.
I still had a few days of my rotation to finish but had time to show my father and David around the hospital. David and I had our picture taken on the roof where the Statue of the Visitation was placed. I could not get over how handsome he was and have treasured that picture.
We all had an enjoyable time together. We visited some od Dad’s friends at work who had retired in various places in Ireland. M We also visited Dublin, and I took him to see Miss Dowling, whom we visited in the Royal Home for the Incurables. She was a longtime friend of Sr. Magdalen O’Rourke. She was delighted to see us both. My father kissed her on the cheek, and this impressed her very much. She told me so when she sent me a Mass card six months later when she found out my father had died of a heart attack.
At that time, I was unaware that this may be the last time I would see Daddy alive, but he knew; as he told Sr. Mary O’Neill, who served him his meals in the Guest Department, that he would never see me again. She told me this in 1970 when I visited Drogheda on my first home leave from Uganda. But that is another story.
by Sr. Margaret Anne Meyer MMM USA 09.10.2024
It was with a heavy heart that my obstetrical internship had ended. I remember being puzzled at the excitement of Mr. Sheehan successfully removing a diseased kidney. The kidney was not crying and showed no signs of life, like a baby did. It took me awhile to get into the thrill of excising tumors and setting bones which would restore a person to full life again. Let me explain to American readers that a fully medically qualified surgeon gets the coveted tile of Mister for historical reasons. The other consultant on the Surgical team taught me the principles of surgery and I loved assisting at operations for both of them.
During the summer months, a few children were brought to the Casualty Department in a severe state of shock after being stung by a jellyfish. Fortunately, they could be resuscitated and come back to life. It was very frightening for all of us, family, and hospital staff. They had been swimming in the Irish Sea. The Gulf Stream comes up the west coast of Ireland and these creatures come with it. As I mentioned before, we had Clinical Clubs, and I decided to look up the mechanism of a jellyfish sting and found it to be the same mechanism as the instrument used in a duodenal-jejunum biopsy. Perhaps this procedure is not done any more, but the biopsy was taken when a little cutting edge was released. To me it looked exactly like what a jellyfish did to inject its venom.
Traffic accident victims were admitted quite often. Many did not survive because seat belts were just coming in then, and many people still did not use them. I was terrified at the thought that a split-second decision could mean life or death to these patients. Again, the Sister Nurses taught me valuable lessons on how to care for the patients. Just do the most needed procedure to save a life and forget your fears. Concentrate on the person in front of you who needs help. I am very indebted to all the MMM Sister nurse and lay staff who formed me into a Doctor who was able to function on the Missions with a heart and with confidence in God.
I found it remarkable how surgical repair of wounds produced much healing. Mr. Sheehan was particularly good at skin grafting and he taught me how to do this. It came in useful later in the Missions, especially when working with patients with severe burns.
As time went on, I liked what surgery entailed in examining patients for anaesthesia the night before surgery and talking to them about it. Now there is one day in Ambulatory Surgery.
Night call was especially challenging when patients came in haemorrhaging and trying to keep them alive with blood transfusions. The consultants would know when to watch and when to intervene with their years of experience, but I found it hard to know the difference. I kept in close contact with them on the phone.
Often those with surgical emergencies like appendicitis would be admitted during the night. Most often they could be operated on early the next morning. Again, it was a phone call to the consultant to determine the seriousness of the patient.
On two mornings a week we had ward rounds followed by attending the Surgical outpatients for new referrals and follow up visits. If I happened to be on call the night before I could sleep later and attend the 8:15 Mass celebrated in the hospital chapel. We would be ready for the rounds by 9AM. The other three mornings found us in the operating theatre. (to be continued…)
by Nadia Ramoutar MMM Communications Coordinator Ireland 06.10.2024
It was a horrible feeling I had not had since I was a little girl. The painful experience of feeling like I was following razor blades made swallowing even water so unbearable that I had to go to the doctor. Tonsilitis was her verdict. The childhood memories returned and I recalled the painful experience I had not had for many years, thankfully.
It was so difficult to speak that I actually just gave up. I gargled with salt water and drank lemon, ginger and honey tea. I also took the antibiotics the doctor prescribed four times a day. Everything important would just have to wait. I surrendered.
While I was unable to speak and snuggled up in bed surrendering to just how awful tonsilitis feels even as an adult, a thought occurred to me. I am so dependent on my voice that when I am without it I feel so lost.
An unexpected spiritual silent retreat occurred over the weekend as I tried to heal. I was very aware of the privilege of being able to be in a warm and comfortable bed to heal. During my time visiting the missions in Africa, I was aware of how many people slept on concrete floors in their homes with no mattress.
I was also aware that I was able to see my GP easily and afford to pay for the visit and also the medication was ready at the chemist when I arrived because the GP’s admin had emailed them the prescription. I didn’t even have to wait for it to be sent.
As I reflected on how fortunate I was to be sick in a way that was temporary. I didn’t have something that would linger with the care I was getting. But, I thought of the people facing palliative care on concrete floors without any hope for healing or recovery.
My voice soon returned and I felt better within a few days armed with a great appreciation for the importance of my own voice. During my illness, I listened to our new MMM Podcast series. It is so wonderful now that we are able to share the voices of our own MMM Sisters with the world – in their own voices.
I was listening to Sr Mary Doonan describe what it was like when a new illness started to emerge in the missions in the early 1980s – a disease that we came to know as AIDS. What an incredible story to hear from a woman who was devoted to being there for people in their darkest hours. Now, we have come so far in the treatment of AIDS and HIV. What an incredible journey.
If you get some time and you haven’t already listened to our Sister Story Podcasts, please do. Each one is incredible. It is our goal to interview every MMM Sister we can so more will be coming each month. Stay tuned.
by Sr. Keresifon Ekanem MMM Nigeria 02.10.2024
It was a singular privilege to have participated in the April 2024 Medical Missionaries of Mary (MMM) Heritage Experience. The program went well and I really enjoyed every bit of it, the spiritual as well as the social aspects of it.
Sharing of mission experiences by our older Sisters was so enriching and inspiring. One can only imagine the passion and zeal with which they engaged with their missions especially in Africa – some still wish they can come back, of course for good while others wish they had the opportunity even for once. They talked about the people they worked with and the places they have been to with so much love in their hearts. The challenges they faced of bad roads, poor accommodation facilities and sometimes nothing really to start with were just stepping stones for them to do more for the salvation of souls. We still encounter some of these challenges today in our different missions. MMMs, trust us! We go to where others do not dare to go to, where human need is greatest, with openness and total trust in God. No wonder Mother Mary Martin said, “Nothing is too hard for those who love.” We thank her for laying such a solid foundation for us, her Sisters.
May 2, 2024 was the day for us to say goodbye to our beloved Sisters in the Motherhouse against May 3 because we were going to take off at the crack of the dawn. This was done after supper. We all expressed our gratitude to one another and we all wished we had more time together again. But we all knew that no time will ever be enough. If we were to have more time together again, we will still feel the same way at the end of that time. Goodbyes are hard to say! But we meet to part and part to meet.
Meanwhile, two aspects stood out in our goodbyes. First, in the early morning of the following day, the Sisters were gathered at the brown door, as it is called, even before us who were travelling, to say the final goodbye! It was really amazing their love and care. We have left but the memory is evergreen and will always be! Indeed, Sisters, you are great!
Secondly, at the end of the goodbye to other Sisters who were present the previous day, we stayed a bit longer with Sr. Jo Anne Kelly to chat. Wondering why? She had been a Directress to us either as Aspirant or Novice. The good old times were reminisced again for the last time just before we left. I asked her if she could take us again to Mother Mary Room – a sacred space, and the place I loved so much in the house. She responded in the affirmative and we were excited. On entering the room, we found a cushion we did not see before and it was clearly marked that Mother Mary sat on it in her life-time. We could not but sat on it, excited that we had such a great privilege. This was in addition to other privileges in the room including kneeling on her kneeler to pray before the crib – the Mystery of the Incarnation that inspired her and thus gave birth to the MMM Congregation. Again, Sr. Jo Anne told us a few other things about Mother Mary that we never heard before like initiating the praying of the Office in English which was being said initially by all in Latin. At the end, she prayed for us and encouraged us to continue to live out the MMM Healing Charism and inspire the young ones by our lives.
In the Mother Mary Room, the fullness of the Goodbyes was accomplished!
