Thanks for the memories

At St Benedict’s Church (1902), our fellow Catholics were waiting for us. We had been delayed travelling along muddy tracks. This is one journey I will never forget. It taught me to trust in the guidance of the Good Shepherd. Why did I think we would never arrive? Why did I think we were lost and unable to reach our destination? The lesson I learnt was a powerful one.

What about the early missionaries? They had to persevere. No turning back, no turning back. The hand on the plough must simply go on. . . yes, the cost of discipleship is high indeed.

My friends asked the priest – how did the missionary priests know that there were villagers looking for them? Simple. One Catholic would inform another and then another, and the missionary priest would follow them to look for more sheep. . . Beautiful, isn’t it? I recall a priest from Sri Lanka saying that evangelisation is simply one beggar telling another beggar where there is food. Yes, REAL FOOD.

Throughout the trip, we had the chance to meet some little ones. Children were shy but not unfriendly. I said to the young boy: Give me a smile, and he did. Look at them!

Look at the adults. Do we not look as if we are one family? I did think of  my late grandfather then, especially when I looked at the two elders of the church. There they were, firing crackers to welcome us. You see them in the photos preparing the fruits to quench our thirst. Praise God!

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