The sun’s ray darkens
as its golden orb sinks
behind the blue gums great and tall
leaving a quiet peace.
Light has gone.
The watchman’s vigil has begun
as he invades the silence undisturbed
but for the cricket’s incessant strains
and the flashing of the fireflies.
Night has come.
The moon rises, etching a silver lake line
magnifying the deep valley with its light.
Thank you, Lord, for such is your love
the hope which your creation brings
the faith through which we show you forth
as present in all things.
By Sister Aengus Campion (1927 – 2018)
A third time you fell
Lover of life and of all people
You kissed the ground again
The place of zero.
Yes, Jesus you fell
Back to the place where all ends.
That place of humiliation.
Of shame. Of Failure.
You fell – hard, rough,
In fellowship with all those on the ground
Whose faces are smeared with mud
Those whose lives are ‘down’
Jesus you fell again, a third time?
The first fall I could overlook,
The second fall I could pity.
But this third fall?
Invites my ridicule, mockery, judgement
‘Seventy times seven’ you told us
But this third fall is sometimes one too many
I can take only so much
I can support the first fall.
Maybe the second.
But the third?
There is a limit to tolerance, Lord!
Or isn’t there?
Help me Lord. Heal me
Of those times I give up
I resent the place of Zero
And desire to be where you have not put me.
When I resist starting again
Because I think I have graduated.
Help me Lord. Heal me
Of those times I walk past you,
Lying on the ground.
In those I know or hear about.
Unable to forgive, to love, to reach out
Because you have fallen too many times
And my heart is not big enough.
by Sr. Ekaete Ekop MMM
Who wants to sail the beautiful boat?
That is going on the sea
Our Lady goes there,
Mother Mary Martin is the principal passenger!
Saint Benedict is the spiritual director,
Jesus Christ is the guidance.
Beautiful flag they are carrying!
With the logo of the Medical Missionaries of Mary.
in this boat we, MMM, can travel and to live each moment of an adventure life
In gratitude we will spread our healing charism in different countries.
By Sr. Liana de Jesus MMM
Through the open door
I see her coming –
Carrying a pot of coffee.
I see her confidence
and feel her gratitude –
Not just delivering coffee,
But a heavy dose of love, too.
Feet won’t freeze and
That legs won’t give way
Suddenly, without warning.
Grateful….that she controls
The hand that holds the pot.
Knowing it won’t take off in
a frenzy of useless movement.
With absolute precision,
She pours my coffee.
We all have our definitions of
“miracle”…and…this is one.
Again and again
The once-cared-f0r becomes
Wordlessly, we thank God.
The ‘shoe is on the other foot’ now.
My sprained ankle gives me rest and
Gives Margie her ‘nurse wings’.
By Sr. Ann Flynn, MMM
Do we ever really let go of our Loved Ones?
Do we need to? I ask myself.
As my memories crowd in and I enjoy again.
Being in the time and place with those I loved.
The places and things they remind me of.
The joy is still there.
No. I hope never to let them go,
I tell myself to keep them close.
Once I read a passage in a book by Francois Mauriac.
It went like this;
We are all moulded and remoulded by those who love us.
And though that love may pass, we remain,
None the less, their work…….
No love no friendship can ever cross the path of our destiny
without leaving some mark upon it forever.
We love because He first loved us. (1 John 4:19)
Sr. Helen Ahern MMM
I walked into the garden of my soul.
Looking for the most beautiful flower.
As I entered the garden,
I saw multiple beautiful colourful flowers.
I even saw some weeds growing among the flowers.
They also have attractive flowers.
I needed to pay attention so as not to mix them and take them for flowers.
I proceeded down the garden,
despite all the attractive flowers,
looking for the most beautiful one.
Behold the most beautiful flower of the garden.
I made no effort to identify it.
It was uniquely and beautifully growing in the middle of the garden.
I noticed all other flowers of the garden emanated from her,
color, shape or beauty.
And she herself is easily identifiable with all the flowers of the garden,
by one of their characteristics or the other.
The name of the most beautiful flower of the garden of my Soul is:
Gratitude to the author and giver of life, God
To have given me life on this special day.
Gratitude to my Mum and my Dad,
who nurtured and cared for this life that was given freely to them.
Gratitude to my siblings and the extended biological family.
Gratitude to my religious family.
Gratitude to my friends and well-wishers.
Gratitude to the whole human family.
Gratitude to the whole of creation.
Gratitude indeed to everyone and to everything that lives and moves.
Gratitude to everything visible and invisible.
GRATITUDE, GRATITUDE, GRATITUDE!
By Bernadette Fadegnon MMM