On October 6, 2009, Sr. Marilyn Welch, CCW was presented with the “Assisi Award” by St. Francis University, in recognition of the Carmelite Community of the Word’s efforts in establishing a twinned relationship with the Little Sisters of the Incarnation in Haiti. The following is her acceptance talk.

We are a small diocesan community of women. Our size makes it nearly impossible to consider establishing a mission in a third world country. However, we believe that God has provided us a way to do that by our twinning efforts with the Little Sisters of the Incarnation. Although we are two separate religious communities, we have gradually become one in heart and effort. We consider ourselves sisters in a mutual relationship of love and care. Many individuals have joined us in our efforts to support the Little Sisters in their mission to the peasants of Haiti. Without the help and support of so many people we would not be able to pursue our efforts.

I have been to Haiti many times and it never fails to surprise me that I learn so much more about myself and about our brothers and sisters in this the poorest country of the western hemisphere. Although we desire to serve our brothers and sisters in Haiti, it is an understatement to say that I believe that I have received much more than I ever give in this relationship. Haiti is a land of dichotomies. Once called the Pearl of the Antilles, Haiti is a nation fraught with violence as people struggle to become recognized as a democratic entity while at the same time are barely able to sustain themselves and their families. Each encounter with Haiti provides one with a profound lesson in the true meaning of hospitality. I do not speak of the warm welcome or the other trappings of what we would recognize as hospitality. The lesson goes much deeper. I would like to talk about three lessons I struggle to assimilate each and every time I am privileged to visit the Little Sisters. They are receptivity, respect and generosity.

Development of an attitude of receptivity is needed in order to enter into an experience with others but particularly with people of Haiti. Specifically, the receptivity I believe we are invited to practice is an awareness of who I am and who is the Haitian I encounter. I must be aware of who I am and “pay attention” to the “baggage” I may bring to my visit, with my intentions to “do good.” I may approach my visit with the idea that I am coming to improve the situation for some unfortunate people. I may believe that I have whatever it is that they need and want. I think I know what they want (or should want) and try in whatever ways are possible to provide for those needs. If I am able to fulfill those needs, I get that same “warm, fuzzy” feeling like that experienced when giving the perfect gift at Christmas. Needless to say this is a hidden agenda, hidden from myself and from others.

If I am to approach service to others with true Christ-like receptivity, I must be aware of my own motivations. Perhaps I think I know more about what the other person needs because I am a person gifted materially and possibly intellectually. Maybe I approach the idea of service from the standpoint of cultural blindness. I may have no clue as to the reason the Haitian individual reacts or acts in particular ways. Receptivity means that I allow myself to recognize that I do not know how my host thinks or feels. I do not know whether my approach is sensitive or oppressive. The better I am able to be alert to my own judgments, beliefs, feelings about those to whom I attempt to bear the “Good News” the more likely will I be able to reflect what I really want to reflect.

A few years ago we were able to invite two of the Little Sisters of the Incarnation to visit us here in Pennsylvania in order to receive medical care. I was quite concerned about their visit. What would they think of us, our home, our way of life? Would they be scandalized by the fact that our sisters have private rooms, have three meals a day and whatever they need to fulfill their ministry? Compared to the situation of the Haitian sisters who live in dormitories, have little water – never hot- for bathing and washing clothes, how would we be perceived by them? It was well and good for us to travel to Haiti and take our gifts and support, but what would they think when they saw our way of life? We shared our concern with the sisters on the trip back from the airport in Baltimore. God’s Spirit prompted us to share our concerns outright. Their response changed my understanding forever. The sisters simply said, “When we see how you live and how Americans live, it makes us even more grateful that you come to be with us. We know even better what a big sacrifice you have to make to come and stay with us!”

For most of us who have visited a third world country like Haiti, we are often overwhelmed by the welcome we receive. We are embraced and cared for like celebrities at times, much to our dismay. We are usually better givers than receivers. Remembering some first visits to Haiti that were quite challenging because of our great difficulty allowing the Little Sisters of the Incarnation (our hostesses) to literally “wait on us.” They did not eat before we all had an ample portion of rice and beans. Because there was no running water, we were dismayed to discover that the Sisters were carrying five gallon buckets of water so that we could bathe. After all, we expected to be of service, not to be served. Similarly we struggled with our own (hidden) fears of vulnerability and lack of control. We found the lack of ability to communicate outside of Haiti to be disconcerting. We found ourselves anxious to tell those at home we were ok. Possibly we needed to tell ourselves we were ok. We were baffled by the seeming lack of concern for being “on time.” When we were told to be ready for a trip at 2 PM and no transportation was in sight at 6 PM, we “time conscious Americans” found it somewhat exasperating. We are not accustomed to having to wait until someone is willing to share a car, or fix a tire or, for that matter, find a tire so that a trip can proceed. So what are we challenged to learn about receptivity in all of this?

Ultimately receptivity allows us to develop a more relaxed approach to our experience, to open our hearts to those welcoming us, and to trust that they share in our concerns. This allows the creation of an open space in which both those hosting and those visiting can engage in a meaningful relationship. Henri Nouwen talked about this kind of open space as the “poverty of the heart.” It is the poverty whereby we allow ourselves, our pre-conceived notions, and our fears to be released in order to be truly open to the experience of another and at the same time our own experience. For me, there has been a gradual movement from an attitude of helping “these” people to “visiting and supporting” my friends. When one is able to put aside, even if momentarily, the pre-conceived ideas about what a foreign people are like, a great revelation occurs. It is possible then to stop viewing others as strangers who might or might not be dangerous. Instead it is possible to move to a state of kinship. One begins to find the similarities rather than the differences between us. We come to a greater understanding of what it means when we say we are all God’s children and therefore are brothers and sisters.

Greater receptivity comes with an invitation to a deeper sense of reverence for the people we serve. C.S. Lewis, in his book The Weight of Glory made the observation that “there are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.” He made this statement to emphasize the theological teaching that buried within each one of us is the spark of the divine, the imago Dei, the image of God. It is precisely the fact that we are made in image of God, that we are able to respond to the invitation to service and to do so with reverence for ourselves as well as for those we reach out to. Because we are made in the image of God we are commissioned to be “compassionate as our heavenly Father is compassionate.” To be compassionate according to the example of God is to imitate Jesus who came to be with us and stay with us right where we are. Recognizing that those we desire to serve reflect God’s image to us and we to them is a profound reality that goes beyond the pious “warm fuzzies” of gift giving. It requires that our compassionate reverence toward others becomes an opportunity for transformation of them, but most importantly for ourselves. Our encounters with the people of Haiti have taught me to reverence their ability to live their lives in total dependence upon God’s providence while at the same time struggling to find ways to improve their lives and the lives of their children. We often wonder at the smiling faces of children who have nothing, when we know that in our country children are not satisfied with a new pair of jeans, but want the designer pair instead. One day while shopping in a discount store, I observed a mother with several elementary aged children buying articles for school. Mom was quickly collecting piles of crayons, probably one box each and tossing them in the cart. From behind the cart a howl arose from one of the children that he didn’t want that kind but wanted the twistable crayons that were advertised on TV. I didn’t stay around to see who won the battle but I knew that it was not a battle that occurred often or ever in Haiti. That plain box of crayons would be a welcome treasure for a child in Haiti.

The attitude of reverence can enable us to appreciate the ability of those we serve to be truly grateful for whatever life offers them. The people of Haiti teach us that every experience is an opportunity to be grateful for the gifts God bestows on us. Thich Nhat Hanh makes the following remarks about those who live with suffering yet are able to express gratitude. Life is filled with suffering, but it is also filled with many wonders, like the blue sky, the sunshine, the eyes of a baby. To suffer is not enough. We must also be in touch with the wonders of life. They are within us and around us, everywhere, any time.

The encounters we have with the people of Haiti teach us to hold in reverent awareness the many gifts showered on us each day and to trust that more is on the way. We learn that we can live without television for two weeks and come back not missing a whole lot. God still controls the world even when we aren’t able to read the paper or listen to the latest news update. However, an evening of games, music, or dancing in Haiti can become a rich experience of community that we would not think very entertaining here in the US with so many other choices available to us. Visiting Haiti brings a new respect for simpler joys. Experiences of deprivation in Haiti bring a new recognition of our own need to change our consumer driven lives into lives of greater simplicity and gratitude.

Generosity is a challenge for anyone who allows him/herself to become a friend of those in need. Henri Nouwen points out, When we are willing to detach ourselves from making our own limited experience the criterion for our approach to others, we may be able to see that life is greater than our life, history is greater than our history, experience greater than our experience and God greater than our God. Generosity must always be companioned with mutuality. It is not enough to give to others. One must also be willing to receive. Sometimes that can be very difficult. There is a story that demonstrates this for me better than any other:
There is an old fable about a man who was given the opportunity to visit both heaven and hell. The first place he saw was hell. He was taken to a large banquet table where hundreds of starving people were sitting. The table was loaded with mouth-watering food and yet the souls who sat there were starving. The visitor noted that each person had a long-handled spoon chained to his or her wrist. The handles were so long that whenever they tried to feed themselves, the food spilled on the table. The frustrated and angry faces of the people made it clear that they were truly suffering. Then, the visitor asked to see heaven. Although he was feeling very depressed by what he had just seen in hell, he was shown another long banquet table. The souls also had long-handled spoons chained to their wrists, but there were hundreds of well-fed, happy people. The difference, he quickly noted, was that the people in heaven were using the long-handled spoons to feed each other.

Yes, the story is an excellent example of how important it is for us to reach out to serve others. Unless we are willing to reach out to others, we can not receive the nourishment we need for our life journey. We need to be willing to be fed as well. We must be open to what the other will provide us and accepting that it will nourish us in ways that are not possible anywhere else. The willingness to be fed by those we serve is often ignored. It is easier to feed on our own satisfaction of having made a difference. This is good, but the pat on our own back doesn’t last for very long.

In order for our gift to be truly generous, we must feed the other without counting on the spoon coming back in our direction with exactly what we think should be on it. Perhaps the gift we generously give really has strings attached. We want to see a certain result. We want our money used in the way we think is the most beneficial. We want to be sure that what we establish for the needy in Haiti continues as we have designed it to operate. When the spoon returns with a different agenda or an alternative method of service, we often are ready to reject the spoon. This is clearly demonstrated to me at each visit we make to Haiti. There is a great deal of gifting that goes on. We come laden with all kinds of items for the use of sisters and for distribution as they determine appropriately. They happily receive our gifts and attend carefully to what we say about their use. On one level they return spiritual nourishment to us by the smiles on their faces, and their expressions of appreciation for the generosity. However, the more profound spiritual nourishment often comes to us a year later, when we return to Haiti. We often discover the real value of our service when we are able to see the impact of the sisters on the lives of the peasants they enrich because of our small efforts. The installation of solar power on a building is a wonderful accomplishment. We are delighted that it can provide light to the sisters, it can power medical equipment at the Maternity home or at the clinic. But the gift proves to be more significant when we observe the value of that power source to the individual peasant who is able to plug in a cell phone for charging at one of these locations. Perhaps they will be able to make a call to family in Port au Prince, Miami or New York that would otherwise not be possible. We are also continually nourished here at home by the generosity of others when they hear stories of the trip and the usual adventures that take place. Sometimes the story inspires someone to make the generous gift of volunteering to go on a future visit. Most often the sharing of the story leads others to respond with generosity donating goods, finances and always prayerful concern and support.

To say that my relationship with the people of Haiti and in particular the Little Sisters of the Incarnation has been a life changing experience is an understatement. I can never fully describe the sense of connection with the Little Sisters in Haiti that has grown in me. I will not say that I am never afraid. Nor will I say that I could live without the comforts of home for a long time.

Today [Oct. 6] we are celebrating the example of St. Francis of Assisi in his service to the poor. In many ways his story of conversion is our story of invitation. We may not feel called to give up the clothes on our back to the person in need, but we are called like Francis to a change of heart in our relationship to those who are poor, marginalized and suffering. Francis tells us to “preach the Gospel always, and if necessary use words.” Our actions, our attitudes, our openness to others speak the Gospel to those who need to hear it. I believe it is no accident that we also celebrate in these same few days the feast of St. Therese of Lisieux. Therese of Lisieux is one of the patron saints of the missions, not because she ever went anywhere, but because of her special love of the missions, and the prayers and letters she gave in support of missionaries. This is reminder to all of us who feel we can do nothing, that it is the little things that keep God's kingdom growing.