by Marion Ryan rsm Ireland 12.04.2025
Listening to a podcast by Ilio Delio as I drove to work the other morning, a phrase that she used resonated deeply with me. She referred to someone being on the ‘inside of the outside and the outside of the inside’. This spoke to me of where I believe Mercy calls each of us to be, regardless of our disparate realities. I felt it described where I was heading, to begin my day’s work.
For the past few years, I have had the privilege of ministering as a Chaplain in Ireland’s largest prison, Midlands, which is currently overcrowded, holding close to 1,000 men from across the globe between 18 years and 85 years old, serving sentences, which vary from a few months to life. Each has left a trail of victims whose lives are impacted in a myriad of ways. Each too has left families, whether in touch or estranged, whom we also support, especially when their partner or son is newly committed. These families can find themselves struggling to manage their shattered lives and the fall-out from what has happened, in the glare of sensationalist media coverage. In some ways, the men are sheltered from this, although they can get a hard time from other inmates if the case hits the papers, particularly if it is of a sexual nature.
Prison is a harsh and brutal environment, loud, stark and at times violent. Overcrowding and drug misuse turn up the volume on each aspect for men and staff alike. All is not doom and gloom though as I daily witness acts of kindness between some men who share from the little they have. As Chaplains, we are the only service, apart from officers, given a set of keys and freedom to roam the landings. The men who see us as being on their side and willing to advocate on their behalf usually welcome us. We get to be with them at the best and worst of times, whether it is engaging in their banter, hearing about their struggles or walking through crises alongside them, whenever we have had to break bad news or as they cope with news of a lengthy sentence. While it can take time to gain trust, the men open up and share deeply, while never excusing their crimes, telling stories of trauma, addiction, and oftentimes – mental health issues, which can somehow explain their journey to the furthest margins of society. Being a Prison Chaplain offers the chance to be a face of the mercy and love of God at the ‘inside of the outside’ so to speak, among those whose actions have led them there. As Pope Francis himself said ‘who am I to judge’.
Chaplains, although independent, take part in the multi-disciplinary team within the prison system, placing us firmly ‘on the outside of the inside’. A Chaplain, to borrow a term from Richard Rohr, gets to be a sort of ‘officially licensed critic’ challenging decisions that affect the men; due to our unique relationships with the men and their families, we often get to hear what others don’t and can put an action or attitude in context. Chaplains can, through our Annual Reports, be the proverbial thorn in the side of the prison system, offering a unique vantage point and critique. While I find it difficult to explain exactly what a prison Chaplain does, I do however know why I, and many Sisters before me, have ministered in prison. I believe that as prisoners are literally and figuratively on the outside of society, it is the kind of place where Mercy is called to be, ‘on the inside of the outside and the outside of the inside’, as we choose again to live our Mercy Mission in every encounter.
Marion Ryan rsm
South Central Province
(first published by Mercy Sisters Ireland)
by Sr. Sheila Devane MMM Ireland 09.04. 2025
Some weeks ago, I woke up to hear an announcement on the radio news saying : “Ireland will now buy 100 generators to be delivered as soon as possible.” One hundred generators! I immediately stopped in my tracks, listened for more information but the announcer moved quickly to the next news item.
We had just experienced Storm Eowyn followed quickly by Storm Hermina; many parts of the country had no electricity for three weeks, or more, at the most bitterly cold time of the year. Homes, businesses, farms, and all kinds of facilities were relying on small generators, lanterns, even candlelight and the support of any, and all, local hotels, or neighbours with electricity.
The government response was immediate, but to those impacted never enough and too slow; teams came to our assistance from across Europe and we thank them. Our Irish repair services for their extraordinary work at a time of crisis and untold suffering for vulnerable people. But one hundred generators! I could now understand why all small towns and villages would want their own generator. They had every reason. More storms are forecast.
My mind went back to the generators which served the many missions I worked in during my time in East Africa. We had one in Dareda, Nangwa, Makiungu, and in all the mission stations in Turkana. So, generators were familiar to me and indeed I travelled back to Africa more than once with a spare part, or two, in my personal luggage! Many of us MMMs did.
Let me tell you about the generator in Makiungu and the special Generator Man! Makiungu Hospital was a very busy general and maternity hospital with a wide community outreach; we relied on electricity for elective and emergency surgery and for light for a few hours each evening to care for the many in-patients. As Sisters living in a staff house, like all the staff, we too got about 3 hours’ electricity each evening. This was a time when we were off duty (more or less!) so everything needing light was done in this window of time. It was greatly appreciated and we busied ourselves by writing letters, organising much around the house, charging batteries for our torches and so much more.
The man in charge of the generator was Bosco, he held an important position in the hospital on a par, one could say, with the administrator, doctor in charge or matron such was his onerous responsibility. The likelihood of a catastrophe were he, or the generator, to fail to deliver was unthinkable. We all knew him, where he lived and he was on call 24/7. He held the key to the cement building in which the generator was housed; his knowledge was laudable; his commitment wholehearted, and any fault or flaw with the generator was immediately reported and shut down all forms of surgery and many aspects of our daily lives.
If we left the light switch on at 9pm and an emergency surgery happened during the night then we were awoken to bright lights – often another opportunity to “get things done” even if it was in the middle of the night! We also knew that one, or more, of our Sisters, staff and, of course, Bosco were already up, working and saving a life.
Getting adequate diesel to fuel the generator was a major challenge and huge expense and became really serious during the war in Kuwait. Bosco kept going, our generous donors believed in our work and helped us greatly. Unaccountable numbers of people were saved by the generator and its dedicated manager.
“ God said, ‘Let there be light’ and there was light.” Genesis 1:3
by Sr. Sheila Campbell MMM Ireland 05.04.2025
“Wherever you are, whatever you do, let there be in your heart a space for others to be, so that, unafraid, they may experience themselves as loved and so be healed.” 7:3
The quote above comes from our MMM Constitutions. What are the Constitutions? They are our rule of life, our guiding principles, something we cherish and try to live up to. Wisely this section is in a chapter called Hospitality. Hospitality is an MMM ‘flavour’ that we learnt from the Benedictines.
Now, just saying the words does not make them happen! Recently I came across the words above just when I was exploding with anger at the words and actions of some of our world’s politicians. Can I hold a space in my heart for others to be? I wasn’t very good at it that day!
The first question is: “Is there space in my heart at all?” I can get so self-centred or inner-focused that my heart hardens, and I don’t think of others at all – not even enough to reject them! My first task this Lent is to widen my heart – let others in. How do I do that? I think the key is to listen to them. Really listening means going beyond my own pre-conceived ideas about their culture, race, gender etc. Just treating them as a fellow human being, struggling to find a way through life as I am myself. That is the first grace I ask for.
Can I love this other person in a way that they feel loved, accepted and so healed? The key to this one is a constant remembering on how I am loved. I am loved by God, by my natural family and by my MMM family. I know I also have a few close friends who love me too. Can I bask in this love and pray that it reaches out to others?
This Lent for me is all about space, love and acceptance. How is your Lent going?
by Sr. Noeleen Mooney MMM Ireland 02.04. 2025
Alan, who looks after us in so many ways, was the one who found it, and brought me to see it. A pigeon, perched on the lid of a large bin outside the kitchen – just out of reach.
It was alert and bright-eyed but seemed reluctant to move and was standing on one leg. “What’s wrong with the other leg?”, we pondered.
My only “bird” contact was Gerard, and he only dealt with seagulls! But I rang him and he was most helpful. “Yes”, he said, “there is a man who keeps pigeons right across the road from you – and he gave me the street name. He also gave me his surname.
I set out, not knowing where to look in the maze of houses there. I prayed that I would see someone going in or out of a house that I could ask. It worked!
A car drove past and turned into a driveway. A lady got out with a small girl behind her. I approached her and asked about the man who looks after pigeons. Her face broke out into a big smile!
“Yes”, she said, “It is David, and he lives three doors down. I will come with you. I saw him ten minutes ago.”
We went together to a door which brought us into a beautiful garden with a pigeon house at the side. We explained our reason for coming and without hesitation, David came with me to see our pigeon.
He caught it expertly in his hands. His leg seemed unharmed, but he did say that it hadn’t eaten for some days, as he could feel the bones along its chest. He took it to join his pigeon family and fed him for a few days.
Thank you, David, “pigeon man”, and Alan who alerted us.
by Sr. Margaret Anne Meyer MMM USA 29.03.2025
The Marie Reparatrix Sisters were there to meet me on my arrival in Entebbe, and I stayed with them. They themselves did not appear to be too upset with the news of the coup and one of them took me to the market to buy some meat. I can still hear her crying “Ssebo”, sir, in a loud voice to a man selling meat. He was a distance away and she did want to get his attention to get a good buy for the convent. I was glad for a little rest for a few days until Pentecost Sunday. Sr. Roberta Smith, who had been on retreat in Kisubi, came to collect me with a Missionary of Africa, Fr. Robert Gay. He said I brought them good luck as they had no roadblocks after I entered the car. Father Gay drove us safely to Masaka about 100 miles away.
When we reached there the Sisters were delighted to see us. The Community at that time was Srs. Ita Moore, Ita Barry, Augustus Doyle, Marie Slevin, Roberta Smith, and Aquinas Conlon.
Most of the people had fled the hospital and one woman cried and cried in the children’s ward and it took a few days before she could tell the sisters that she had been on the bus with her father, husband and sick child when Obote’s men came and got all the Baganda men off the bus and shot them dead in front of her
My heart went out to her and all she intensely suffered.
Milton Obote was the king’s Prime Minister and successfully overthrew the king.
Anyone who was educated abroad seemed to be a target to be killed. A Doctor who was practicing at his home in Nyendo was killed and his patients who were waiting on the veranda were killed. This news was terribly upsetting to me and for all the Sisters and people in the area.
It took three weeks for things to return to normal. We heard that the Kabaka had dressed as a woman and had walked to Rwanda, sleeping in ditches by the roadside, and from there got passage to England. He died there about five years later and was brought back to Uganda for his burial.
I soon settled into hospital life. Sister Doctor Augustus Doyle divided the work in that she would look after the children’s’ ward and the outpatients and I would look after the Maternity and Male and Female Wards. There was a Government Hospital four miles away that had an experienced surgeon. Specialists were eighty specialists.
miles away in New Mulago Hospital, Kampala. I also referred patients to Ensambya Hospital which was run by the Dundalk Franciscans. Sr. Sheila Cotter’s Sister, Doctor Veronica Cotter, became a great friend of mine. She later left and became a Poor Clare. I missed her very much.
A lay Doctor, Peter Gaffney and his wife came in 1967 for two years. Peter was incredibly good at surgery. We had a lovely theater block which was built with lottery money raised by the Blessed Sacrament Fathers. They were so successful that the Government took over the lottery. Dr Gaffney wanted to give the two years of his life to the Missions, before settling down in Ireland. He and his wife were blessed with a baby boy during their time of service. Sr. Augustus Doyle went to work in the Medical Bureau of the Catholic Secretariat. She did great work there. Because of her being there, I was chosen to join a group of doctors who traveled to Tanzania
for a medical meeting. It was a wonderful experience, and I am grateful to her for picking my name out of a hat.
by Nadia Ramoutar MMM Communications Coordinator Ireland 26.03.2025
This is one of my favourite times of year in our Hemisphere. We are seeing the longer days after very short and cold winter days. There are new blooms each week and bare trees are starting to show signs of new life.
I find myself excited about putting on my gardening clothes and heading into the awful mess that is post winter gardens in Ireland. I love living in seasons though and it’s amazing that bulbs are already in the ground all winter just waiting to break through the soil. How incredible nature is really.
We are planting seeds for fruits and vegetables now too. I am so proud that I have gathered seeds from food I ate and now I will plan them to grow new food. The truth is that if humans understood plants better and how resilient they are we would never need to buy a plant again. Either through growing seeds or bulbs or taking cuttings plants constantly renew life. We just have to know what to do. It is incredibly easy to grow plants. We just need to be attentive. Also, we don’t need a huge garden to grow things. Even growing one plant makes the world better.
We are so fortunate that plants bring us so many benefits not just when we eat a more plant based diet, but when we spend time in nature. We are in a constant dance with plants taking out CO2 and giving us oxygen. How incredibly fortunate we are to have this exchange. Well, it’s essential to life.
Some people also understand that working on the land gives us so many benefits. One that many people may not realise is that putting our hands in the soil actually helps us emotionally and physically. There are proven benefits to how soil gives us positive hormones and experiences to improve our health.
We have so many MMM Sisters around the world who are harnessing the power of plants in many ways to help people in need. They are using plants to heal people and they are also helping people to grow their own food to fight off hunger and to be healthier.
Our MMM Communications department will be hosting a new Flowers and Food Fest at the Convent in Drogheda on the 3rd May from 10 am to 3pm. We want to share our love of nature with everyone while raising money for the our MMM Sisters overseas creating miracles for those who are most vulnerable.
There is a lot of darkness in the world at the moment. So let’s roll up our sleeves and be willing to get our hands dirty for a good cause!
by Sr. Sheila Campbell MMM Ireland 22.03.2025
I am sure you are like me – you do not like going to the doctor. Yes, I am a nurse, and I know the value of the medical profession, but when it comes to oneself – keep me far away! So recently I have been having a few symptoms that need to be checked out.
“Nothing serious”, I say to myself. “Don’t waste the doctor’s time.” I”t will sort itself out.” You know how the first phase of denial goes. So, you keep talking to yourself, and the guilt feelings begin to creep in. What if it is something that could be treated and I have neglected God’s gift of medicine to correct the issue? Will I be causing a worse problem if I don’t get it looked at? And then the denial comes back, and I circle around the question for another couple of weeks.
So today I bit the bullet and saw the doctor. I thought my appointment was for 10am but I was bustled in early so didn’t really have time to chicken out. When I was ushered into the doctor’s room I sat down quickly, took a deep breath and began my story. After a careful examination, “nothing serious to worry about” was the verdict. Was there relief? Yes, somewhat, but them the guilt comes back – why did I make so much of it? Am I a hypochondriac?
I really need to learn to laugh at myself and not take life so seriously!
I do believe that my life and my health is a gift from God that the I should cherish and protect, but one day it will all be gone and I will be called to a different sort of life in Christ. So, yes, look after my health but not so much that I am focused on it. That is my life’s lesson for today. I share it with you as many will be going through the same range of emotions as they sit in the doctor’s waiting room. Take a deep breath and thank God that I am truly alive to recount the experience!
by Silvia Angel, Early Intervention Educator Ireland 21.03.2025
Today, Friday, we celebrate World Down Syndrome Day to honour and recognise the incredible people with Down syndrome in our lives.
For me, this celebration is deeply personal. One of my childhood friends, Monica, had Down syndrome, and growing up together shaped my life in ways I did not fully realise at the time.
She was my friend. We played, we laughed, and we went to school together. There were no big awareness campaigns or classroom talks about disability; there was just kindness and a strong sense of community.
Looking back, I see how my experiences with Monica influenced my work, parenting, and understanding of what inclusion truly means.
Today, I want to share some of those lessons with you.
Children Learn by Watching Us
As a child, I always knew there was something unique about my friend, but there was never a conversation explaining it. Instead, I saw how our teachers and parents treated her. They were kind, encouraging, and supportive, always celebrating her achievements, no matter how small.
Naturally, we, as children, followed their lead. We cheered her on just as they did. No one told us what to do; we simply learned through their example.
Learning through example is something I often think about when talking to parents and educators. Children are always watching us. The way we treat others teaches them how to navigate the world. Small acts of kindness, inclusion, and encouragement mean more than any formal lesson on empathy.
Inclusion Supports a Child’s Development
My friend attended our local school, which was unusual at the time. Many children with disabilities were either at home or in special schools. Looking back, I realise her parents were forward-thinking and understood the value of growing alongside same-age peers.
Inclusion benefits children with Down syndrome, and research supports this. Studies show that children with Down syndrome who attend mainstream schools tend to develop stronger language skills, cognitive abilities, and independence.
However, inclusion isn’t one-size-fits-all—every child has unique needs. But from my own experience, I can say this with certainty: being part of our class helped her grow, and it helped us grow, too.
The school adapted Monica’s curriculum, and she received extra support when needed, but as children, we did not even notice. However, I will never forget how alarmed we were one day when she got to use a calculator in math class when we were not allowed to! Our teacher, always wise, turned it into a teaching moment. Instead of shutting down our complaints, she asked Monica to teach us how to use the calculator. Suddenly, we were gathered around, watching her demonstrate, and just like that, she became the expert.
Inclusion is not just about allowing children to be in the classroom—it is about valuing their contributions and finding ways for them to participate actively.
Family, Love, and Strength
In our small town, everyone knew each other, and Monica’s family was no exception. As she got older, she faced health challenges; she spent more time in hospital and at home. We visited often, and every visit felt like a big celebration for all of us.
Now, as a parent of a child with a disability myself, I look back with even greater appreciation for her parents. At the time, I was too young to see the challenges they faced, yet they navigated it all with grace, strength, and a deep commitment to making sure Monica felt loved and happy every day.
I have often heard discussions about the strain that raising a child with additional needs can place on a family. And while I completely understand those challenges, I have also seen the opposite—families coming together and growing stronger. Love, resilience, and a shift in priorities can bring families closer as much as they can challenge them.
Inclusion Teaches Kindness and Empathy
Growing up with my friend Monica taught me something important: given the opportunity, kindness comes naturally to children.
No one had to tell us to help her—we just did. Some naturally stepped into that role, looking out for her in their way. And I see the same thing in every school I visit today—some children instinctively take on a caring role, watching out for their friends.
While I often remind children to let their friends try things independently, I also love nurturing that caring nature, perhaps because I see myself in those children. Maybe because I know that those small, everyday interactions helped lead me to where I am today, dedicating my life to working with children with disabilities.
We talk a lot about teaching children empathy, but there is no better way than letting them experience it. Inclusion does not just benefit the child with additional needs—it shapes every child in the classroom, helping them grow into more understanding, compassionate people.
Celebrating World Down Syndrome Day
As World Down Syndrome Day is today, I want to take a moment to celebrate the incredible people with Down syndrome in our lives.
Thank you, Monica, my childhood friend who taught me so much by being herself. Your presence shaped who I am today, and I carry those lessons with me every single day.
To the hundreds of children I have worked with, you have brought so much joy into my life. It has been an honour to watch you grow, and while I may have been your teacher, I have learned just as much from you!
To all the parents raising children with Down syndrome, to the teachers and SNAs supporting them, and to the friends walking alongside them, I see you, I celebrate you, and I honour the love, joy, and strength you bring to the world.
Happy World Down Syndrome Day!
P.S. Why Do We Wear Odd Socks for World Down Syndrome Day?
If you see people wearing odd socks on World Down Syndrome Day, it is not just a fun fashion statement—it has a special meaning!
This idea started because chromosomes are shaped like socks, and people with Down syndrome have an extra chromosome. Wearing odd socks is a simple but powerful way to celebrate uniqueness, start conversations, and show support for inclusion and diversity.
So, if you have not already, pick out your brightest, most mismatched socks and wear them with pride!
by Sr. Rita Kelly MMM Ireland 19.03.2025
Hope in him, hold firm and take heart, Hope in the Lord! Psalm 26.
This is a quote from Wednesday’s Evening Prayer in the Office of the Church. For some reason it keeps going around in my head! In to-day’s world, maybe we feel that hope is in short supply. Watching the daily news one can be overwhelmed with the news of climate disasters, wars and conflicts.
One of the conflicts, that saddens me is the news of war in Goma (Eastern Democratic Republic of Congo). In 1994, I volunteered to go to Goma in response to the emergency crisis in Rwanda. Refugees were pouring in from Rwanda to Goma. I was assigned as a midwife to the Refugee Camp.
One day comes to my mind. It was a very wet day, tropical rain pouring down. We were struggling to keep the muck and rain out of the tents. A lady was in labour. She was on a mat on the floor. I was praying she would deliver while we were in the Refugee Camp, because for security reasons we had to leave at night. After some hours, a healthy baby was born. First, the happiness on the mother’s face. A poet captures the scene by saying “The fond look from the mother’s eyes, with the newly born she holds with joy”. When the word of the birth of the child went around the camp, many of the volunteers and staff took a moment to come and rejoice with us. A moment of hope, a moment of grace.
Mother Nature is a great teacher. After a long dark winter, what pleasure and moments of joy we experience when we see the first snowdrops peeping through the barren ground. Gradually the crocuses, daffodils, the buds in the trees appear. Moments that lighten the heart. We look forward to the longer days and summer days.
“To be at the mowing of the meadows, the cutting of the corn, feel the fullness on the senses. Oh, the suddenness and wonder of a love that’s newly born.”
As a missionary order we experience the generosity of people, through finance, volunteers, staff and encouragement. But also, in our daily comings and goings we experience the kindness of people, the smile, the chat.
During these Lenten days may we remember the moments of hope and joy we receive daily. Lent is a preparation for the great celebration of Easter, the Risen Christ. We are journeying with Christ in His passion and death, but, also, with faith, hope and the knowledge that we will experience, participate and celebrate the Resurrection of Christ. May you have the blessing of the Lenten Season and the Peace of the Risen Christ.
(Quotes from Mystical Path with Poetry by Peter Owens)
by Sr. Margaret Anne Meyer MMM USA 15.03.2025
It seemed like such a flurry. Returning from my father’s funeral in New York and venturing to the airport a few days later to begin my first mission trip to Uganda. I do not recall packing but have a vid memory of Mother Mary. She had a big smile on her face when she gave me a chocolate mouse eating a piece of cheese. She said, ‘Bring this to the Sisters, dear, this will make them laugh.’ The next day I was off to London to get my visa for Uganda.
At that time, we had no house in Ealing, so I stayed with the Sisters of the Cross and Passion. They were truly kind and the next day I was brought to Victoria Station and knew that the Ugandan Embassy was somewhere in the vicinity. I had several hours to spare before my appointment in the Ugandan Embassy. As I was near Westminster Cathedral, I ventured in to make a visit for an hour with the Lord. Then I spied a Kentucky Grill and ordered a big piece of Mississippi Pizza for 40 p. I remember thinking that that was around 8 shillings in the former counting of English money. Anyway, it certainly tasted good. Then I sauntered over to Westminster Abbey and saw so many statues of renowned English men who had made history eons ago. Soon I passed Big Ben and the chimes sounded beautiful and clear as I walked by and soon found myself at the Ugandan Embassy where I speedily collected my visa and then proceeded to the Queens Art Gallery The security guard asked me if I were a student and I told him, “no”. He replied well you look like one, so he gave me free admission. One painting on the wall was more exquisite than the other but after a while I found a lovely lady in a painting called “Agatha”. I bought the postcard print of Agatha and sent it to Mom.
Then it was time to get the plane to Amsterdam. I took the Underground to the airport and when I got off; I did not know where to go. My father told me to follow the crowd and half the crowd went to the left and half took an elevator. I thought I would like to try the elevator and could not believe how my prayer to Daddy for direction was answered when I got off right in front of the locker where I had placed my luggage upon arrival to London. I was so relieved to say the least. Thank you, Daddy.
The plan was to meet Sr. Dr. Maureen O’Mahoney in Amsterdam and from there we would travel together to East Africa. This was my first missionary journey, and I felt a little prepared because one of the student nurses in the IMTH, Jane —– had been teaching me Luganda. To my dismay, a Luganda word for king, Kabaka, was on the front headlines of the paper we received on the KLM plane bounded for Uganda. “KABAKA Is Overthrown”. I knew that meant there was a coup, and the country would be in turmoil. I was very frightened. I was glad Sr. Maureen was with me but unfortunately, she soon traveled on to Tanzania after our landing at 2 AM in Entebbe, May 24th, 1966. I said in anguish, “God did you bring me all the way to Africa to have me killed”?
I got no reply but somehow the strength came to stay and to see what would happen next?
