Service, The Only Great Thing

"No one can serve two masters.

He will either love one and hate the other,

or be devoted to one and despise the other.

You cannot serve both God and mammon."

 - Matthew 6:24

     On Friday night my Dad called me.The conversation went a little like this: Dad: "Where are you?" Me: "Oh you know, driving through Kensington." Dad: "WHY are you in Kensington? Who are you with?" Me: "My friends, Sister and Father. We're just living it up on Spring Break." Dad: "Okay, not but really, why are you in Kensington." Me: "Dad, I told you, Spring Break." Dad: "Whatever, just be safe." Me: "Love you, DAD!" While my daddio seemed a little annoyed that I neglected to tell him I was doing a Spring Break Service Trip...in Kensington, but he got over it. I think he's starting to realize a common theme: whenever I do something seemingly dangerous, I don't tell him so he doesn't worry so much before I leave. Sorry, daddio. 

     Anyway, as you could gather, to start Spring Break (which began on Friday), I climbed into the school van with seven other students, Father Chris and Sister Cathy and headed to Kensington. I've come to the realization that one either knows exactly what Kensington is or they have no idea. For example, when I handed in the van sheet at the safety desk, the safety officers said, "Oh...be careful." When Father asked one of the students if they knew where Kensington was, she said, "What even is Kensington?" I've heard the stories, that Kensington has always been the forbidden place, as in, don't go there, it's trouble. It's always been the place where the sun doesn't shine and the birds don't sing. But, as you might have gathered from my life, not much bothers me, not much scares me. Why should I fear where Jesus walks? 

      Our first time driving down Kensington Avenue, we missed the turn and found a grammar error. Because we were under the El, the GPS couldn't get a signal. However, we turned ourselves around and finally found the white door to the Blessed Sarnelli House. Ed opened the door for us and up some super steep, unfinished steps we climbed. We dropped our stuff and immediately turned on the heat. When I say it was as cold inside as it was outside, I am not kidding. We even went exploring to the bathrooms which...had frozen water in the toilets! We decided that all the girlies were going to share one room. Sister got the front end with the view of the el and Father got shipped upstairs. Then we hurried over to the other house (where it was warm) to set up for dinner. 

       The home was a basic three floor row home. On the second floor was the kitchen, chapel and store room (oh yeah...and a bathroom). On the ground floor was the dining room (and another bathroom). When the time came, the members of the Kensington community who needed a meal came through the front door, were served a plate of yummy food (cooked by Ed) and invited to sit down at the tables we had just set up. It was really crowded at the very beginning and so a lot of us wound up standing around, talking to a few of the visitors. However, eventually, a few people began to leave, headed some place or another and there was an empty chair at a table with three people. I asked if I could join the table. David, Donna and Allen all said yes. I found myself right at home.

       I used to feel extremely uncomfortable around the homeless. I had a perpetual feeling of guilt around them and I was never sure what to say or do. I also always wanted to cry. I would see these people on the streets while walking through Philly and I never had anything to give them, so I never made eye contact. I almost felt ashamed. I wanted to help but I was afraid I couldn't. Slowly, but surely, I begin, almost by forth, working with the homeless. It was part of our New Orleans trip, to work at the New Orleans Mission and serve dinner. After a few times, I realized, there's nothing less humane about these people. Friday night, I pulled up a chair, sat relaxed and laughed so hard with my three newest friends. Honestly, the stories we were telling were fantastic. I felt happy and at home. Not a place of home but a homey state of mind. 

       I decided to stay in my chair at the table in the corner by the front door. A few more times, I made a few more friends. Paul, who's cat obsession is almost as great as mine, and John, who is close to my age. A few other friends walked by, said hello, and kept walking, but these are the people I will remember forever. They were such beautiful people. 

       After serving dinner and cleaning up when all our friends left, we ourselves had dinner. It was a simple but good meal of noodles, veggies and turkey. The same dinner we had just served to the community. Mind-boggling, really, and eye-opening. We cleaned up after and didn't have too much to do, but we discovered that the reason our toilets had frozen water in them was due to our pipes freezing. That means, in our house, we didn't have any running water. Not bad right? Well, that means, no toilets, no hand washing, no teeth brushing, no water drinking, no face-washing, no nothing that involved water. Of course, we did have two bathrooms in the community house we could use, but that involved going outside in the cold and running next door. We decided to make two bathroom runs: one right before bed and one first thing in the morning. I've never appreciated water more. 

       We spent part of the night reflecting and then, just by casual conversation, I was asked to share my journey of discernment. I love all the girls I went to Kensington with and I honestly don't know what I will do when I don't get to see their lovely faces every day next year. They are always so honest with me and I love it. One of the girlies, Krystal, asked me about the nunny thing. She doesn't know how blessed I felt when she asked me to share my story. I needed that glimpse of hope and she gave it to me. 

        The next day was spent doing all kinds of clean up work around the house. We also took a tour of the Kensington area. The very long story short is that now in our beautiful group of volunteers, we had an electrician, shot put throwers, and dust nunnies. Our day of clean up involved some pretty crazy things but we had fun none the less. The thing about service is that no matter what, one's heart always seems to be opened in some capacity and there is a joy that slips in. There is always a way to make doing service enjoyable, whether it's making art out of broken items found on the site, being assaulted by nuns throwing things, relocating bricks, drilling holes in walls, or dusting so much dust we find dust nunnies. We had a great time in Kensington and I'm sad we couldn't stay another day. 

        This morning, I packed up the car and finally departed the noble hill for one last spring break. I cried a little because everytime I leave IU, I realize that one day I will leave and never come back as a student. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NUNNIES THAT MEANS I HAVE TO LEAVE BEHIND?! Sobbing! Anyway, I met my family at the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament Motherhouse for Feast Day Mass (Katharine Drexel's Feast Day is March 3). All the precious nunnies both SBS and IHM welcomed me home to Bucks County. Needless to say, I was a happy NIT. As Mass begin, I realized I recognized the Franciscan Priest who was saying Mass. Turns out, he's from Kensington and works at St. Francis Inn. And that my friends, is how God brings my life full circle. God came in like a lion this beginning of March just as He knew I needed. Father's homily was about young people living the vocation of service to others. That's how I felt in Kensington; this is my vocation, to serve the Christ in others. Father also mentioned that Service is the only thing Jesus calls great in the bible. Hm..sounds legit. Jesus was a man of service, wasn't he? I sat listening to the entire homily thinking, wow, how beautiful a confirmation that I am exactly who Jesus wants me to be.

        I reflected a little later and realized how happy, truly happy, I was. I felt free. I felt such pure joy. And I felt like myself, who I truly am, including all sassiness. I had to laugh because people claim that they love who I am but so few have seen me in my real element. Sometimes it's a part of me that most people, even my closest friends, don't understand. I am guarded at times, but when I'm doing service work, I'm free. I FEEL LIKE I COULD SPREAD MY WINGS AND FLY! And when I let people see the real, true me, I feel even freer. I'm silly, I'm full of laughter and I love making other people happy. When people I love see that, I feel as if suddenly I've opened a whole new book in my life. And all that's written on those pages is this: Service, the greatest thing in the world. I agree with Jesus. 

In The Arms of Angels - Camden, Alternate Spring Break 2013

"Let us open wide our hearts. It is joy which invites us.

Press forward and fear nothing."

- St. Katharine Drexel

     "What are you doing for Spring Break?" It was the question on everyone's lips. Some were traveling to NOLA, my favorite city in the world. Others were traveling to Chicago, my home away from home. Still others were headed home to their respective cities and towns. Me? Well, I was more than excited to be headed to Camden, New Jersey for the weekend. 

     Imagine my parents' reactions when I neglected to tell them exactly where I was going on Alternate Spring Break until I was already settled in with my six other lovely lady peers, Father Chris and Sister Cathy. I simply just texted my Daddy a picture of the quotation from Katharine Drexel that was on my bedroom wall in Camden. Needless to say, he didn't respond via text message but rather by phone call. What are you doing there? Are you staying? Who are you with? Are you asking for a death wish? Are you serious? Camden of all places? What are you thinking? Yes...my Dad had a little bit of a freak out session. "Relax, Dad," I told him, "we haven't heard any gun shots yet." That didn't help much...obviously. But I reassured him that I would be fine and God was watching over me. If I was meant to be scared, I would have freaked out already. And I didn't. 

      Camden is rated the 1st poorest city in the United States. Not only is it poor but it has the highest crime rate per capita in the US, this includes murder and homicides. Almost half of the city is dependent on drugs. Surprisingly enough an elementary student can make up to $200 a week just by being a drug outlook for dealers. This being said, the drop-out rate for high schoolers is 60-70%. Oh and the average income for a family of four? $18,000. Get this....the entire NINE-SQUARE MILE city of Camden has 80,000 people "living" in it. I say "living" because do you really think sleeping on the street in a wet sleeping bag every night is living? 

     So, needless to say, my Dad had a right reason to be worried about me in a city like Camden. Camden is a city for me that I can see right across the river when I'm home. And while I was in Camden, the skyline of Philly was looming over us as a constant reminder that this is the Calcutta of the United States. However, there wasn't a single second I felt fearful of this city, I had long ago learned to love. 

     They had asked us at the beginning if anyone in our group had been in Camden before, aside from being there for a concert or a visit to the aquarium. Two of us. I spent one day during my summer three years ago gardening with a group of my CREW girls. I saw that Garden this weekend; it still looked good. I spent another day during my summer two years ago painting over graffiti. I saw those murals this weekend...and I painted the same exact spot on the same exact wall I did two years ago. Our murals are still there though. I remember the first time I walked through Camden. I thought to myself, this is what hell looks like. So many imagine hell as place of fire and heat. But Camden, oh no..that's what hell looks like: broken houses, so much poverty it makes you sick, the smell of trash for miles, children running around with no clothes on because no one loves them, and needle after needle after needle, the used-to-be source of drug lovin'. Oh and the skin and bones of people who haven't eaten anything nutritious perhaps their whole lives. There's no love, no hope, no sunshine. That's hell. 

      Yet, it's a hell that didn't scare me. I felt like Orpheus. If I could go into that hell and pull just one person out of it, if I could make someone my Eurydice, I would. That's what keeps me going back. (The story of Opheus and Eurydice is simple. E dies and goes to the underworld. O goes down and pulls her out, saving her and bringing her back to life.) Like I said before, I was excited to be going back to the streets of Camden. I was excited to be meeting people, or as I call them, "New Friends." I was excited to open a window to a world that most people don't know about. 

      We arrived after sundown and as we unpacked our car, a group of young men walked by. My friends were standing on the front porch as I stood in the middle of the street waiting for father to turn around the school van. We didn't want anyone taking the perfect parking spot. When I turned around, I saw the young men and joyfully waved and said hello. I could see the eyes of my friends bug out of their faces. What? I shrugged. It seemed so late, but the night was still young. After a first night of making spaghetti for dinner, a few of us headed to the Joseph's House. 

       Joseph's House is a unique and humbling place. Located in an old Lutheran Church, volunteers set up and cook dinner for about forty regular homeless people. These people come with all they have and set up camp on the floor of the church. It is literally exactly how the would sleep outside but with heat, a warm meal and the opportunity for showers. The first night there, there were a plethora of volunteers already there and so we went home, a bit saddened that we couldn't do much to help. We went back to the place we called home for four days and watched one of the most heart-wrenching documentaries on the children of Camden. As someone who wants to be a teacher, I can tell you it hit so very close to home. 

      The next morning, we were up and at 'em, ready to help out at the Holy Name Confirmation Retreat. But first we got to make fruit salad for the Joseph's House with the Freshmen Students from the Cristo Rey High School in Philadelphia (I was so totally hype because teaching there would be a dream come true....). I made some new (and crazy) friends among the students and easily assumed the role of their older sister. When they were leaving, I was blessed with numerous hugs from all of them. With the Confirmation retreatants, we put on Gospel skits which was a feat for sure. There for four boys and one girl in our group...thankfully, we were blessed with the Gospel of the Prodigal Son. We then had to have a slightly silent Puerto Rican lunch since we were sharing our space with another group. It was soooooo hard! After making so many new friends, it was super hard to keep quiet with these overly-eager beavers. I love them all so much!

       Once the retreat was over, we were blessed to hear the real story of Kenny, a homeless man who lives in Camden. He truly invoked so much conversation and gave us so much insight. He gave us a chance to truly express our feelings for the homeless and what we wanted to bring back to our homes. It was such a beautiful chance for us to share as a group, as individuals and as ourselves. I saw the hearts of so many so open and willing to go the extra mile for people. It was so beautiful!

      That night we had homemade dinner take two. The first night Lindsey and I cooked dinner and very casually Sister Cathy asked if we would let anyone else cook during the weekend. Well, the next night there she was all precious in her apron cooking crayon chicken nuggets, mac and cheese and broccoli with the two of us, while setting the others to fruit salad making and whatnot. We young ladies had a nice lesson in Convent Etiquette 101, lesson: how to peel an orange. Sister Cathy is a trooper for putting up with all the young lady sass this weekend....it didn't end there. 

      After our meal, a few of us headed out again to Joseph's House. That night, I met my friend Archie who looks like an African American Santa Claus and his friend, "Santa." These men shocked and surprised me with their wit, their playful bantering back and forth and extreme knowledge. These men shared their dreams with me and asked me about my dreams. I went to bed that night feeling so overly blessed for gaining two more grandfathers here on earth. 

     The next morning, we were once again up and at 'em ready to help out with CCD classes before going to a Spanish Mass. The truth is, I love kids so much, which is why I have always wanted to be an educator. My dreams as an educator include, but are not limited to, making sure my students know they are loved, knowing that I care about their dreams and their lives, and being able to communicate that to them. The hardest obstacle was communicating with those students that morning. I was silenced literally because most of the students did not speak English and I did not speak Spanish. I tried, but I failed admittedly. I couldn't do it and from that I learned that I need to try my hardest to become bi-lingual. Especially if I want to fulfill my dream of teaching inner city kids. I prayed for all those CCD kids at Mass and I prayed that God would give me the strength to learn another language...soon. Mass, of course, was beautiful. I was blessed enough to sit next to Sister who just happens to be fluent in Spanish and has a beautiful voice. Yes, it truly was a blessing.

     After Mass, we quickly changed into painting gear and headed to North Camden to paint those same exact walls I had painted before. I was literally painting the same exact block of wall I had painted before. It was like a time-travel and it was awesome. Of course, we had to paint with the wind off the waterfront at our backs. It only gave us a more solid understanding of what the homeless had to deal with every day. They never get the chance to go inside a warm home or a warm car. They are outside all the long day, in the cold, with much less than we all had on. I felt the sting of homelessness right there in my heart. I'm not sure what the others got from our experience in the cold, but that was the truth resonating in my heart. Later that night, after cooking again with the whole IU family, we headed out to Joseph's House for a last night with the homeless. When we were leaving, "Santa" and Archie broke my heart by asking if I would be back there again the next night. Oh how I wanted to be there. 

     Monday, our last day consisted of sandwich ministry and recess with the kids. When I woke up this morning, I was so sore. I didn't understand why until I remembered I lifted 10 pound bags and chased kids for an hour. In the sandwich ministry we literally fed some many homeless people sandwiches and made up bags of canned goods for them. What a sight to behold to see a line of people waiting for their first meal in what may have been a long time. At school we ate with the same kids and the peers of the kids we helped on Saturday at retreat. These children are super precious. We played tag for an hour and I've literally never been that out of breath. However, chasing those kids around in tag was the best. I miss that being at school, I miss being able to go over to the grade school and be lunch mom. It was so hard for me to leave those kids.

      As we rode home that day, I couldn't stop reflecting on those kids and their smiles, their beautiful innocent smiles. I love them all so much. I wanted nothing more than to preserve their innocence and let them keep it forever. But I know that in a city like Camden, they would lose that innocence most likely before they even left grade school. My heart ached and broke for them. I will forever remember their smiles and their hugs and innocence. But they aren't the only ones. I found myself in the arms of angels this weekend. Angels whose faces were those who greeted the homeless, angels whose faces were the poor and homeless, angels whose faces were children, angels whose faces were people just needing love. In each hug, I felt myself truly in the arms of angels and I can only hope they each left my presence feeling the same; in the safe haven of an angel's arms. 

Fruit Salad...yummy, yummy

Enough said

Painting the walls.....

Painting Sister....

Sandwich Ministry Time

My Cristo Rey lovebugs <3

Working With The Girls

"If you give a woman the right pair of shoes she can change the world."
- Millie Gaghan

So how's it been so far is the million dollar question. I've had text messages from friends, Facebook messages and posts and phone calls asking me how the big easy is! So let me tell you how it's been!
I now know what it's like to be hungry, homeless and cold! Home is wherever the people we love are and where we feel loved. And while NOLA has been such a home to me and I truly feel like I belong here, people are missing from my presence and this city! I am homeless from my family and friends!
I am hungry! Not a physical hunger, no my belly is full of gumbo and jambalaya and red beans and rice! Instead I am hungry to serve and love! Even though I am working so hard all day, it isn't enough for me! I need more! Like one of the sight supervisors said, service and giving love is the best kind of drug out there!
I am cold! I know at home, IU has has some snow and there is a cold front! However if I was at home, I'd be wearin a coat! Here it is about fifty degrees everyday! That would be fine except I didn't many warm clothes! I know what it is like to wear all the clothes in my possession just to stay warm! Last night to bed I wore both pairs of sweat pants , both pairs of shorts, both long sleeve shirts and both sweatshirts!! I slept with the hoods up and curled in a ball under one blanket with my teddy bear!! Needless to say I was a little chilly!!
However being hungry, homeless and cold is not my daily life! I have felt solidarity with these people for the past few days but I have not always had that life and most likely will not have that life for an extensive time in my future! However it really hit the heart when I realized that not only was Katharine Drexel here in this city but also Mother Teresa and Frances Cabrini!! These are seriously three of my favorite girls!! And even though they aren't here now I still am working and walking with them!!
When I checked Facebook the other morning to post some pictures, I saw the above quotation as Millie's status! Right away I had to comment: work boots! I would wear work boots!! I couldn't help but imagine Mama K or Mama Teresa or Cabrini wearing work boots under their habits!! Wouldn't that be a sight to see?! And what if they wore work pants under their skirts and bandanas over their veils? I decided that would be me...I'd work the boots with the skirt...and when my work boots get too dirty to wear inside I will just were socks to chapel like I did this morning!!
When I am down here I can't help but think of my girls, my sisters the saints working in the poor schools and building houses!! If they were here during this time they'd be nailing down floors and mudding walls after school on the week days!!! Yeah....me too!!!