By Sofia L. Volunteer in Brazil

These months have been full of newness: new people, new traditions, new routines… But above all, I’ve learned to open myself to newness in what I thought I already knew (and that’s even newer haha). 

One of this newness came from an old-time friend who is 69 and whom we see very often in our parish. When I first met her, it was very hard for me to spend time with her because she’s very distracted and disorganized. I got stressed out by small things such as her getting confused between left and right when she guided us to get somewhere, or because she would repeat the same things over and over again. One day she invited us to her house to teach us how to prepare feijoada, a typical (and muito gostoso) Brazilian dish. When we arrived, I was already starting to get impatient because of the mess at her house and the confusing and contradictory instructions she was giving us. Then, Agnieszka noticed and asked me what was wrong. I told her that I was having a hard time being patient with our friend. Then, she advised me to think that everything she was telling us was important to her, even if she repeated it or it was contradictory. I think that in that moment, Agnieszka’s loving gaze towards our friend made me change my own gaze and have a different attitude. Although I was getting frustrated with the disorder and dirt I was seeing and just wanted to grab a broom and start cleaning, I realized that this was not what our friend needed. She just needed me to look at her and give importance to what matters to her, without trying to change anything. So that’s what I did. I sat in silence next to her, watching her cook. At one point, the two of us were alone in the kitchen and she asked me: “Why do you spend time with me?” And I told her “Because you’re cool!” and she replied “You’re the ones who see me that way, I’m no good, I’m worthless.” And then she sang a piece of a song that says: “Eu não presto mas eu te amo, eu não presto mas eu te amo.” (I’m worthless, but I love you). 

That song our friend sang that day spoke to my heart a lot because it talks about her, but also about all the friends I’ve made here. It also talks about me and the mission that all of you are accompanying me in. Presence is something so simple and hidden that it seems like it doesn’t serve any purpose because apparently it doesn’t change anything, but it really changes everything. Even when our friends’ lives are really difficult, they’re not alone and at the end of the day, I’m not here for something to work out or be better, but to love and let myself be loved (which, although it may not seem like it, is really hard).