The Old Woman

While in Holy Hour, I am able to reflect on my day and my different encounters with the Honduran people.

An Icon hanging in a home

This morning, we brought Communion to an old woman, shriveled and shrunk with age and sickness.  She lives in a tiny 3-walled cement room in the “backyard” of a home, with only a curtain separating her from the outside.  Inside is a plastic chair, small table and a picture of Jesus and Mary on her cinder block wall.  Since she is bedridden, the family brings her daily food and water.

After eight mission trips to Honduras, I’m embarrassed to admit that my Spanish is still almost nil.  But I don’t need to speak since Father Pascal is quietly praying with her.

I gently help her sit up and then decide to sit next to her on her bed.  While I’m near her, she holds my hand.  Am I a comfort to her?  I don’t know.  But strangely enough, she is a comfort to me.  I feel peaceful sitting next to her.  I am hoping that on a basic level I am sharing Christ with her in that we are all brothers and sisters.  We are bound to care for one another.

Being able to share the Eucharist with her in an extremely close and personal way was moving.  Taking the time to be with the poor and understand that we are all human and need to be treated with dignity and respect is a lesson in humility.   It also reminds me of what Jesus commanded us to do, “Whatever you do for the least of my brothers, you do onto me.”