Most
of us have had the experience, at one point of another, of
having a song stuck in our heads. For months before I arrived at
Kasisi, a song from the Taizé community in
France
was lodged in my head. Nothing I did seemed to get rid of it.
Translated into English, its words are:
Happy is the one who abandons himself to you, O God, in trust of
heart! You preserve us in joy, simplicity, and mercy.
These
are beautiful lyrics, of course, but they were in my head for so
long that I was beginning to wonder if they would ever leave
me.
I was
sent to Kasisi Children’s Home for one month, as part of the
last stage of my formation as a Jesuit priest. My task was
straightforward: do whatever the Sisters tell you to do. But
more important than anything I did during my weeks at Kasisi was
what I received there. It was a month-long lesson in joy,
simplicity, and mercy – the very concepts I had been
humming, whistling, and singing about for months.
“Valendo!”
This is what I would hear constantly during my first days at
Kasisi, as the children shouted, almost always smiling broadly,
at this new man that they kept seeing. I soon learned this is
the word in Nyanja for “visitor,” for “guest” and as a newcomer
that is exactly what I was. As I would walk by, the children
would interrupt their playing to call me over to them –
Valendo! – to say hello.
In
most cases like this, our communication was interrupted by a
language barrier. Fortunately, smiles need no translation. Toys
would drop to the floor (or would be offered to me as a gift),
and the children would become temporarily transfixed by
seemingly about this guest: my height, by my watch, or (perhaps
especially?) by my arm hair. In these interactions, no matter
how brief, almost everything was a source of wonder.
The
joy of children is infectious, and Kasisi is full of
joy-filled children. This is not because they have the newest
toys or the nicest clothes. It is because they are loved and
cared for – and they know it. It is no surprise that Jesus had
such special love for them, and never tired of telling us
grown-ups that we need to be more like them if we want to enter
the Kingdom of God. Their natural capacity for joy allows them
to put aside almost anything and marvel at what is before them.
Anything, even a visitor from far away, can be a gift when we
know how to see as they do.
Simplicity
is at the heart of life at Kasisi. This is in large part because
Blessed Edmund Bojanowski, the founder of the Kasisi Sisters,
emphasized the importance of this virtue in the spiritual life.
Each day, in prayer with the Sisters, we would ask God’s help in
imitating his example of “simplicity, generosity, and love.”
Many
of the tasks that filled my days at Kasisi were simple,
technically speaking. This is different from saying that they
were easy, however. Several times per week, I was able to
help out with physiotherapy for some of Kasisi’s most
distinguished residents: our children with special needs. Most
of us take for granted the tasks which fill our days, like
walking, standing, or sitting up straight. They are anything but
simple when one cannot see, or has restricted use of one’s arms
or legs. The children set to these tasks as best they could,
with a determination that was inspiring.
And
in these sessions, it was the simplest gestures which were the
most important for the children: an encouraging smile or funny
face, an arm on which to lean, or a simple piece of wood that
was enough to help one stand up tall. Simple, yes. Easy? Not by
a long shot. The joy (that word again!) that radiated from the
children as they accomplished seemingly simple things can only
be described as infectious.
“Mercy”
is everywhere at Kasisi. We constantly speak and sing of it in
the Chapel. One of the newest buildings on the campus bears its
name – the House of Mercy – the beautiful space where some of
the girls live. Indeed, some of the children even called by that
most beautiful of names: Mercy.
When
I was growing up, I used to think that “mercy” meant
“forgiveness.” To be merciful was to be forgiving. That’s true,
of course, but it is not the full story. As Pope Francis has
never tired of repeating, “the name of God is mercy.” To say
that God is mercy is the same thing as saying “God is love”
– the love which calls each one of us into being, which regards
each one of us as necessary and as precious, and which desires
us that we flourish as individuals and as a community.
That
is the kind of love that followers of Jesus are called to pour
out into the world, because that is the kind of love that God
has shown to us. And that kind of merciful love that is the
power and strength of Kasisi Children’s Home. Many things are,
of course, helpful in ensuring that the children of Kasisi live
lives that reflect their dignity: clothes, food and medicine,
education. These things are very important.
But
the one thing which is really necessary is merciful love.
As anyone who has spent even a few moments at Kasisi Children’s
Home knows in their bones, that love – the merciful love of God
– is the true source of its abundant wealth. It is the only
treasure that can never run out.
I
came to Kasisi Children’s Home with a tune stuck in my head.
Looking back, I think my head was preparing my heart for what I
would find there: joy, simplicity, mercy.
At
some point, the song in my head will no doubt change. But there
will be no replacing the song that Kasisi has taught me, one
that plays constantly – thank God – in the heart.
