Learning from Them to Stand at the Cross

By Jeanne-Marie C., missionary in El Salvador

Maria and Pedro are some of our good friends who have three sons. One left to go to the US, when he was a teenager, and the other two live with their parents, but have many medical problems. Their middle son, who is 12, has brain tumors, epilepsy and a mild form of lupus. Their youngest son, who is six, has a severe form of lupus, and is not predicted to live over the age of 13 or 16. I have always admired these parents and their strength and faith to deal with all the pain they endure. I simply cannot understand how they accept the situation they are in. Once, Pedro told us that he used to pray to God for more time with his sons, but he stopped, because who is he to tell God when or when not to take the lives of those he created? Slowly, the more I contemplate their situation, the less I think of the unfairness, and the more I simply pray for their health, for their peace, for their joy.

Niña Emma is an older lady who is a very good friend. She has piles of photo albums, where most of the volunteers over the past 31 years are featured, and she loves flipping through them with us. She has Parkinson’s and spends most of her days alone while her son works to support them both. One day after Mass and decided to go visit her. It was a very Providential visit because she was not doing very well. She could barely speak or get up. We sat there with her for over an hour, giving her water, wiping her mouth, helping her get up to go to the bathroom, and braiding her hair so it would be out of her way. Throughout this time, although we were very concerned and wanted to help her, she kept asking us questions: How are we doing? What have you been up to? How are the other girls? It was touching to see that, even in that vulnerable situation, she wanted to be a good host. We prayed the rosary with her, and she offered a decade for knowledge; she prayed to God to help her understand her illness. It struck me that she didn’t pray for a cure, that she didn’t pray for a miracle or to get rid of her illness, but for the patience and understanding to keep living with it. 

I have never been surrounded by so many people who carry their crosses with such dignity. In many ways, our friends sometimes live as Mary at the Foot of the Cross better than I do, maybe better than I ever will. There are so many moments when I’m tired and don’t want to do even the smallest household chore, while all of our friends endure so much more in silence. There are many other moments when just talking in the street, or over a meal, our friends will reveal their suffering; their family life, their job situation, their loneliness. It is easy to wish that I could take all of my friends’ pain and sadness away, but I am simply not that powerful. All I can do is offer my humble presence, my entire heart, and my constant prayers for all of them.