I had enough. Lord, Your will be done: An Interview with Carmen

I first met Carmen at Adeodatus, the weekly prayer group held at the Rectory of St Rita’s Shrine is South Philadelphia. The group is geared towards those formerly incarcerated or working through addiction looking to grow in their faith amidst challenging circumstances.  While I am quite new to the ministry at A.D.R.O.P., Carmen has been a friend and participant in the community for years.  I was quickly drawn to his warm, friendly smile and gentle, jovial character. He appeared to be quite at ease with himself, and freely spoke about the place of God’s love in his life during the night.  After hearing bits and pieces of his past over the course of a few meetings, I was intrigued to hear the story of his faith journey and how he came to where he is now. The following is a synopsis of what he shared.

Carmen grew up as the oldest of three in South Philadelphia in a warm, Catholic, Italian home.  From his childhood, he was blessed with a charming personality and a good heart, the beloved of his parents.  School could not hold his attention though, and it took effort to pass his classes.  His interest would lie primarily in his friends and the enjoyment of life. Even in elementary school, he and his friends were exposed to the use of various narcotics in their neighborhood and began to experiment.  By middle school, Carmen had moved from sniffing glue and smoking marijuana to shooting heroin.  He was lost in the youthful pursuit of passing pleasure, not thinking much of the future or the consequences.

By high school, Carmen got into trouble and found himself in detention on a regular basis. Undeterred, he would return home to greet his family and then head back out to spend the rest of the night getting high with his friends. “What a waste of time,” he told me, “party after party, every night of the week.”  He now regrets how much pain he put his parents through, who had high hopes for him, and worked hard to send him to Catholic school. Though those days are long passed and his parents did not live to see his recovery, Carmen asks for their forgiveness for what he put them through. He admits he has wept a river of tears over the misguided choices of his youth.

As he shared, it was clear that though his past mistakes have filled him with remorse, he now accepts his unfortunate direction at so young an age with a sense of peace and understanding. While he doesn’t blame anyone for his choices, he acknowledges that he and his friends were in part victims of their environment and the culture surrounding them. “I shouldn’t be justifying what I did, but it is what it is. I know in my heart that I may never be the man God wanted me to be, but I am going to be the man that I want to be for Him today.” I am struck by how Carmen has moved on from the past in order to make the most of the present as a time to live for God, as St. Peter says, “so as not to spend the remainder of one’s days in the flesh on human desires, but on the will of God.”

After graduating from St. Thomas More Catholic High School, Carmen married, began work as a cement laborer and continued to spend his nights getting high with his friends.  Before long his marriage fell apart and his wife left him, seeing that “they weren’t going anywhere” living such a life.  He found it hard to hold down a job as substance abuse began to impact his everyday life.  He eventually moved back home with his mother but couldn’t get along with her new husband.  After a number of fights, his mother asked him to leave.  At this point, discouraged with life in South Philadelphia, he entered the service with the Navy.  He spent the next few years on the open seas across the world but was dismissed before term when he failed to comply with naval directives.

When asked about his religious experience during these years, Carmen shared that his Catholic upbringing did not translate into a personal relationship with God.  Instead, he delved into the more captivating world of Eastern religion and meditation practice as he matured.  However, the discipline of spending time each day in quiet meditation helped him stay sane and calm in the midst of repeated conflict and mental distress.  He also reiterated that the love and security he experienced at home with his parents gave him a spiritual foundation and advantage that many of his peers lacked.  He saw the devastating results that followed those who were raised in families that did not especially love or care for their own.

After returning home from the navy, the patterns of drug use and fighting worsened.  Though he held down a few jobs for a number of years, in the end they served to feed his addictions outside of work.  Making money to get a drink or take a hit unknowingly became a part of his daily life.  As the years unfolded, he lost friends, family and girlfriends to premature death due to overdosing and alcohol abuse. That he himself was spared, he admits, is a miracle and intervention of divine providence.

For many years, Carmen managed to stay out of trouble with the law but eventually was arrested.  After losing his job and then his living arrangement upon the death of his girlfriend, he eventually found himself homeless and begging for his next hit on the streets.  “I was beat up, spiritually bankrupt, there was nothing to live for really.”  In such a state, at age 57, he recognized his desperate need for help and a change of direction. Thankfully, a good Samaritan stopped one day while he was on the side of the road and led him to a rehabilitation program at the VA hospital in Chester county.  The program was designed for 28 days of sobriety and it ushered in a turning point for Carmen, as he began the process of getting sober and “his life back in order.” From the VA, he was directed to a halfway house and recovery program intended specifically for veterans.  This is where he continued to live, in sobriety and recovery, for the next one and a half years.

At first the question of surrendering his addiction seemed daunting to Carmen.  But when he encountered the 3rd step of AA, “Are you willing to turn your will and life over to the care of God as you understand Him?” he realized he was more than ready to leave his old life behind. “I had enough. Lord, Your will be done!”  At the point of surrender, Carmen encountered a spiritual Presence that gave him peace and assurance – “an overwhelming Power, giving me the strength I needed to endure…”  In reality, Carmen says, “He is everybody’s higher Power… people only have to realize that… that is why there is all this chaos in the world,” because “people are living without God.” Now his desire is to be close to God. When he sits in his living room and listens to Christian music, a tear drop will often come to his eye. “It has been a long journey, and I have cried a river… how can I not be grateful? ... Lord, thank you for everything, thank you for being in my life today—You’re the only thing that really matters, everybody should be aware of that... It’s such a relief to know that someone cares for you.”

Carmen acknowledges he could not have come to sobriety on his own.  “I know if left to my own devices, I’m going down… Looking back I was sick, though I knew something was wrong… but now, I am aware that it is God who brings fulfillment… that a Power greater than myself can tend to my every need. That’s the faith, but it doesn’t happen easily.”  After nine years of sobriety, Carmen’s faith continues to grow and everyday becomes “more and more about Him.”  He recognizes that divine Providence has worked in his life to bring him to where he is today:

God did things that I know came from Him. One day I was in my apartment and lying down, I said this prayer: ‘Lord, please free me from the bondage of self and take these difficulties away from me,’ and it was like an ‘aha’ moment, a deep feeling that he took everything out of me, everything away from me… and filled the void with His love… Dear Lord, wow, I actually cried that day. It was like a spiritual awakening. Let’s face it, if God is going to do that for you, touch you in such a way, why would you turn Him away? Why would you not believe anymore?

Nine years later, at age 65, Carmen is a practicing Catholic, a regular attendee at AA, NA & Catholic support meetings all over the Philadelphia area, and living quite happily in a place of his own. He spends much of his time attending meetings in order to support and encourage the recovering community. For him this brings fulfillment—to accompany others who are seeking to maintain sobriety and grow in their practice of faith. He reminds me of one of the many figures in the gospel who through their encounter with Christ were freed from their affliction and immediately stood up and followed Jesus.  He acknowledges that there are many people who attend AA & NA meetings but come and go because they lack a personal relationship with the Lord. Therefore, he recommends alternative programs that emphasize the centrality of faith to persevere in recovery, such as Celebrate Recovery and Adeodatus.  

“Life is good today, thanks to God, but it’s not all perfect… Live a good life,” he says, “but expect a greater life in Him… I am a sinner. There are times I fall short, but I ask God for forgiveness…” He tries to live as Christ did, “with all his heart, all his mind, all his soul… doing His will and helping others… there is no other way, Jesus is the way…” To those who might be struggling in their recovery, Carmen says that “whatever you do in your travels, make sure you keep the Lord close to your heart, and then get the garbage out… ask yourself: why do you want to do this? Let go and let God…”  He advises the rest of us to meet those in recovery with gentleness and kindness, like Christ, not speaking down to them from a spiritual mountaintop, but offering hope and comfort.

His diagnosis for addiction is “Obsession and compulsion equal addiction… Once you get started, you are compelled to do it over and over again… but by the grace of God the obsession can be gone… just say no and turn away… ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life’… Why can’t we believe that? Why would Jesus lie? Would he ever say: ‘No, you can’t come in?’”  

I cannot help but think of the parable of the Prodigal Son in the gospel of St. Luke when the younger son of a wealthy landowner sets off with his portion of the family estate only to squander his wealth on reckless living. When famine struck and he lost everything, he hired himself out to a citizen of the country who sent him to feed swine.  In his distress, he came to his senses, and resolved to return to his father as a hired servant. But his Father, spotting his son from afar, ran out to meet him and embraced him with love.  He then brought him home with rejoicing, calling his servants and preparing a feast.

Carmen appears to me as one who has wandered far through many foreign lands but now knows the true joy and rest as a beloved son in the house of the Father.  He now keeps close to His heart, remembering that he is only a pilgrim passing through this life on his way to his native country:

O God, grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change...
Courage to change the things I can,
And Wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as the pathway to peace.
Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it.
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His will.
That I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with Him forever in the next.
Amen.  

The Random Creativity of Kindergartners: Part 6

By Travis Vermulm

The St. Anthony of Padua Kindergarten class celebrates Valentine’s Day with games, pizza, and dancing.

SEBASTIAN

Not every experience with kindergarten students is a positive experience. Despite their wonderful enthusiasm and often infectious happiness, there are still days which stand out as more negative or, at least, difficult.

Sebastian is another troublemaker, but still a great student. He excels in Math and is a kind-hearted student to many of his fellow classmates. He often has issues sitting properly in his chair and keeping himself off of his neighbor’s desk, but truly he is a good student.

I returned from Christmas Break rejuvenated and prepared to see the shining faces of the students again. They all seemed to be in good spirits after their long break, just as I was, but Sebastian was struggling more than usual. He kept asking to use the bathroom despite having used it five minutes prior or even sometimes two minutes prior. Often students will use the restroom as an excuse to leave the classroom, so I had to tell him no.

He began to cry a lot throughout the day and as my concerns grew, I brought the issue to the teacher. I was informed that he had done the same for the past two days and was finding any excuse he could to return back home to his parents. There was nothing actually physically wrong with him he just wanted to be home.

Sebastian chose to bring his stories to me because he had already tried the same tactics on several other staff members, and it had become clear to them he was trying to make an escape from school.

Knowing I was not the only person telling him he could not use the bathroom again, or he would have to wait until the end of the day to see his parents, certainly did not make the task any easier. The dramatically crying face of a six-year-old staring up at you is not something easily ignored, even if it is some sort of ruse.

I understood, in some small part, how hard it must have been for Sebastian. He was returning from a break. He spent the good part of two weeks at home with his parents and family and now had to return to a schedule where he did not see them at all from 8:00 A.M. until 3:00 P.M. The adjustment cannot be easy.

Even as adults we often suffer the emotional burdens that come with a visit home. To see your loved ones in a limited capacity, remember all the great times had with them, and inevitable leave again, is no easy task. Unfortunately, Sebastian had to learn there is only two ways to conquer this kind of separation anxiety. A person either carries on with their life and eventually returns to a somewhat normal state of emotion, filing the vacation time as a memory along with the other memories; or a person can give up and return home, never to leave again.

Certainly, Sebastian wanted to give up on Kindergarten, but the option is not available. I have no doubt in some short weeks when I return to the classroom he will return back to his goofy self and will have to again be reminded to remove himself from his neighbor’s desk. His day of crying and insisting he needed to go home will serve as a reminder to me, when I begin to miss the past and doubt the future that God has planned may take some getting used to, but will certainly be worth the effort.

NOTE: The names of the children were changed in this story.

The Random Creativity of Kindergartners: Part 5

by Travis Vermulm

AV Travis Vermulm poses with two St. Anthony’s Students during a Christmas Party

ANNIKA

Children have a habit of saying very impactful statements without ever realizing they are doing so. Annika is a silent troublemaker who recognizes that she is well-liked in the classroom and often uses it to her advantage by having the children follow her lead in games and activities. She is pleasant in class and very intelligent. It is no wonder that she is a natural leader, but sometimes she tries to sneakily break the rules and have others do the same.

One day she convinced her entire row of students to read books hidden in their desk when they were supposed to be doing a project. I would look up to see her gazing down at the opening in her desk and I would give her a glare until she put the book down and started doing her work again. As soon as I looked away or went to help another student, she would return to the book and I would catch her again only to repeat the process. Every time this happened, she would look at me and grin knowing exactly what was going on, needless to say I was mildly annoyed.

During one of the math assignments the class was having a particularly hard time listening. I was rushing around to every student trying to ensure they were staying focused on the task at hand instead of throwing things or shouting across the room at each other. I made it to Annika’s desk and saw that she was not listening to instruction at all. The assignment was to order colors on a picture of a shelf, so if the teacher said Blue on top, Orange in the middle, Red on the bottom, the students were supposed to color in the shelves with the appropriate color. Annika had skipped ahead of the teacher and was coloring in a shelf early. It was also the wrong color.

“No, Annika, that isn’t what we are supposed to be doing yet, you have to wait to hear the color. That shelf is supposed to be blue, okay?” I said in a tone I thought was calm.

Some of my earlier annoyance with her must have leaked into my voice, however, because she put her crayons down on her desk looked up at me and said in a very serious tone, “People make mistakes Mr. Travis.”

I was at a loss as to how I should respond. She was right. I had probably not noticed my own tone of voice due to the entire class’s behavior and I certainly had not exercised patience. Annika was talking about her own mistake, but her words pointed a large arrow right back at me without her knowledge.

I spent the rest of the assignment by her desk helping her work through each shelf. It is easy to get caught up in a movement and forget how actions might be affecting people around you, but I will continue to remind myself of Annika’s simple sentence, “People make mistakes Mr. Travis.”

NOTE: The names of the children were changed in this story.

The Random Creativity of Kindergartners: Part 4

By Augustinian Volunteer Travis Vermulm

The Kindergarten Class does a goofy pose for their Christmas Party

JOHN

John is somewhat of a troublemaker. He frequently makes funny faces across the classroom to his classmates and works hard to distract whoever he can. I often give him a quick glare when I see him leaving his desk to wander aimlessly to another student’s area and take their focus off their work. Despite the stress John so often causes he is impossible not to love for several reasons, the biggest is his enormous grin constantly shining on his face.

One day John came in late to class and was behind on the math assignment of the day. I was assigned to help him catch up individually. This was the first time I had really worked one-on-one with John and I admit I was ready for the worst, ready to constantly be pulling his attention back to his paper and the task at hand.

The assignment was counting patterns. There were various shapes and pictures strewn across the page in different patterns. For example, one row might contain a series of cubes alternating size from big to small to small to big and so on. The students had to decide what the pattern rules were and name the last part of the pattern.

John dove in with an enthusiasm I had not seen before. With me sitting by his desk and pointing to each object he would energetically call out each item, “BIG! SMALL! SMALL! BIG!” Every time he said the size of the object his big toothy grin would flash up at me in the purest and most elated expression. He aced the assignment.

Throughout the day we still had some struggles with him wandering, making silly faces, and not staying on task, but as soon as I would make my way back to his desk he would sit down and start working, checking every so often to see if I was watching him do his work. John reminded me of yet another nugget of wisdom we can learn from children. Sometimes all a person wants, or needs, is to be noticed and acknowledged as an individual. In the future I will be making sure that I kneel besides John’s desk and check on his work. I know that he will give me a big grin when I get there.

NOTE: The names of the children were changed in this story.

The Random Creativity of Kindergartners Part 3

Augustinian Volunteer Travis Vermulm

Here is another story from my time in the kindergarten classroom:

JACOB

One of my recess jobs has become that of “human coat rack.” The children all bring heavy winter jackets to the recess field in preparation for very cold weather. Often when they prepare for the worst, it doesn’t happen. So, every recess, I am stuck standing amid 23 running 5-year-old children as they hand me a myriad of coats and sweaters.

One day as I walked back into the classroom holding the coats the children began recollecting their different outer wear. I was left with two sweaters at the end, both belonging to boys and neither having a name to distinguish them from one another. I guessed whose was whose and gave one to a boy named Tanner, the other to Jacob.

“Is this yours?” I asked Jacob. Jacob took the sweater from me, pressed it to his face, inhaled deeply, and handed it back, “Nope.” I broke into laughter. Jacob, seeing me laugh out loud, also began to giggle, and soon the whole classroom was in a short-contained giggling fit. When they calmed down, I went to Tanner, switched sweaters with him, and returned to Jacob. “Is this yours?” I asked again. Once again, Jacob pressed the fabric to his face, inhaled deeply, and shook his head. “Yep!” I guess if he knows nothing else, he knows how his clothing smells.

NOTE: The names of the children were changed in this story.

The Random Creativity of Kindergartners Part 2

Augustinian Volunteer Travis Vermulm

Continuing our series of stories from my days in the kindergarten class, here is a story about Harry:

HARRY

Harry is what many people describe as a tattle-tail. I do not mean that as an insult or compliment, just a statement of fact. When he raises his hand and calls my name, I know he is either going to tell me a story about his home (he likes to talk about his dad’s car), or he is going to tell me another student has done something wrong. He is a very kind child and very intelligent for his age. He often finishes work before the other students and draws portraits of his family on the back of his papers. During the Halloween party at the school, Harry was calling my name more than usual. It seemed every time I turned around; I could hear the insistent “Mr. Travis,” coming from the back row. He kept telling me stories of home and explaining that his Storm-trooper costume was a villain. He didn’t like the villains, he insisted, but he liked the red color of their armor and wanted to be one for Halloween. After maybe ten times raising his hand, he called my name again. I walked over impatiently with a stern look prepared to tell him that I couldn’t keep coming over if he didn’t have a question as other students needed help and I had to help them too. As I reached him, I saw a large smile painted across his face. “What’s up Harry?” I asked. “This is the best Halloween ever Mr. Travis, and this is the best school!” He finished his sentence and turned around to his work. I didn’t have a stern look on my face for the rest of the day.

NOTE: The names of the children were changed in this story.

The Random Creativity of Kindergartners: Part 1

by Travis Vermulm

“Mr. Travis, Mr. Travis, Mr. Travis,” a cadence of my name arrives every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday morning from several different kindergarteners. Sometimes the children ask for help on a homework assignment or show me a picture they’ve drawn and describe it to me. Sometimes, however, the children just want to talk.

Children often say and do whatever it is that comes to their minds. This non-filtered action and speaking provides a lot of interesting stories and hilarious encounters throughout my week. In the next series of posts, I will tell you a few of my favorites:

ELI

Eli is a quiet child. He is prone to sitting silently at his desk and staring at whatever is in front of him. Sometimes he needs prompting to continue his work, but he always finishes his tasks eventually. Eli is also known for a very large and distinctive imagination. Asking him what he is drawing in a picture is an adventure of uncertainty. For example, I once asked if he was drawing himself (a stick figure was prominently featured at the center of his page). He looked at me and shook his head, “No, I’m drawing a superhero mannequin.” The superhero was expected, but for a five-year-old to look at me straight faced and pronounce that his stick figure was actually a mannequin, and I could not help but laugh silently to myself at how unique Eli’s answer was.  

Not many days after this encounter, the students were back to their drawing books. I saw Eli, with a concentrated look on his face, making his best efforts to draw a very even series of squares. He seemed to be putting them together in what looked like the shape of a car. I wandered over, curious, and knelt beside his desk, “What are you drawing Eli?” I asked. “Is that a car?” Again, Eli looked at me with a stoic and wide-eyed expression as if my assumption at his square’s being a car was a trivial guess. “No,” he answered, “It’s a Traeger.” For those who don’t know, a Traeger is a brand of barbeque/smoker that has gained significant popularity in the last five years. I guess he must have seen one somewhere and decided that was the drawing of the day. The unexpected joys of working with children occur daily.

A Reflection on Tasks and Love

by Travis Vermulm, Augustinian Volunteer

It is odd to me how easy it is to settle into routines; how quickly people start to view daily tasks as nothing more than a check mark on the list of daily activities. I caught myself falling into this very category the first week of October. After just over a month in Philadelphia in the new position at A.D.R.O.P., I was moving from one task to another checking the boxes off the list ensuring that I had completed everything.

I was efficient, yes, but I noticed one difference between my first week and the start of my second month. I glanced over a few items, not as if they weren’t important, but as if they were items. I reflected, at this moment, on a quote spoken by Mother Teresa:

“Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”

In past jobs, I realized, I had caught myself wandering past my daily jobs as though they were murals on a wall. I recognized them, I gave them a glance of attention, I thought I paid them the due they deserved, but I did not stop to truly appreciate how they could make me grow.

A simple act I may implement moving forward in this year of service may prevent me from falling into the mood of viewing my various jobs as simply marks on a list; to stop before embarking on the next task and ask myself, ‘What am I doing?” Such a simple question applied to a situation may help so much.

The Adeodatus meetings come to mind as I write this post. Every Thursday as 7:00 P.M. begins to draw near I normally grow incredibly excited for the meeting to come, to indulge in faithful sharing with people of such spiritual strength is a gift, but the first Thursday of October I felt tired from the week’s events and questioned whether I should even attend.

I was looking at the meeting, in that moment, as an item on the list and was neglecting to ask myself, ‘What am I doing?”

If I had stopped for a mere moment and inquired internally about the direction of my evening the choice to stay at home or to go to the meeting would have been obvious.

It is important to reflect on how much love and effort is being put into a task. If I reflect on how much care I am putting into daily tasks it reminds me when I need to rest and replenish my ability to fully commit to certain items on my agenda. Maybe one week I am overloading my schedule and not realizing that, though I would like to fully commit my love and attention to every single task, I cannot possibly do so.

Moving forward in my volunteer year I will remember the words of Mother Teresa and consider how much I am putting into each job I fulfill. All tasks are impactful in different ways, whether one is spending time with someone in need of a friend or simply taking one item off another person’s already full agenda.

First Weeks, New Perspectives, and Old Familiarity

New Augustinian Volunteer Travis Vermulm with two students at St. Anthony of Padua Elementary School

by Augustinian Volunteer Travis Vermulm

Some part of me expected Philadelphia to come into view from the train window like the fin of a great whale, a mild reflection followed by a grand break in the horizon. I often build up my creative expectations as such, but the reality is sometimes more rewarding.

I saw the city for the first time in several bursts played out over the entire month of September (and even some of August). The first view I received of the city was that of the tourist’s eye, this was a place to visit. I stepped out of 30th street station, very weary from a two-day train ride out of Memphis, and I caught my first view of the skyline.

I’d seen New York before and enjoyed the views of the skyscrapers, but my first impression of Philadelphia was even more stunning. The statue of William Penn atop City Hall is something to behold; he stands amongst such modern developments, cane in hand daring the onslaught of the future to take away his history.

I was impressed and certainly ready to explore. The first weeks of orientation into the Augustinian Volunteers program were filled with much of this newness. I met new people, visited new places, ate new food, I even saw myself in a new light. This experience was the beginning of my first real step out of the undergraduate life and I was ready to see what it brought.

The second impression I had of the city of Philadelphia was as a place to study. When I started work at A.D.R.O.P. I was immediately spending my days in the rich history of South Philadelphia, not to mention living in Old City. Everywhere I turn there is a business that has been open since the early to mid-1900s. The churches, state buildings, schools, and offices, all demand to be studied and the information revealed is incredibly rewarding.

The Shrine of St. Rita stood out in my first experiences. The prayer candles surrounding the kneeling figure of this holy woman, the persistent widow, give the lower level a dim yet ever present light. The signs asking for silence outside of the lower shrine seemed unnecessary to me. Who could walk into this glorious artistic and holy presence and still have words within them?

There is much I anticipate learning from the history of Philadelphia and all its neighborhoods, but my third impression of the city has stirred the most excitement within my being. I recently experienced Philadelphia as a place where someone can truly live.

It might sound a little silly to say that it took almost a month for me to realize a place could be lived in, when thousands of people live here, but perspective is a very tricky word at times. Working at A.D.R.O.P. has reminded me the difference between living somewhere and merely visiting.

I drew comparisons of this experience from my home state of Montana. I live around 40 miles from Glacier National Park, which is a very popular travel destination for people all around the United States and even other countries. The landscape is beautiful, and I was lucky to have the park so close, but often I did not see the same side of the park that all the visitors saw. I saw the good along with the bad, the poverty of the reservation towns only blocks away from the rich resort streets reserved for celebrities.

I used to think this was cynical or even negative, but really it is just a different perspective. When one is in the shoes of the tourist, there is no immediate feeling to reach out and build upon the structures already in place. The tourist can view everything through a lens and that is their goal. I first arrived here as a tourist, hoping to see the history and places of visitation. I am hoping now to develop the view of the resident. Just like any other home there are issues, but the residents and community members are called to not ignore such issues, but to help those who need help. I know working at A.D.R.O.P. will show me where I can serve, and hopefully, in doing so, I will be welcomed as a member of this community.

Several moments stick in my mind that have helped me start to feel at peace in this new place, as I write this however, I cannot stop myself from fixating on one.

At St. Anthony of Padua’s kindergarten class, I wandered around desks finding where I was needed by the children. One boy raised his hand and summoned me over with a call of “Mr. Travis!”

When I came to his desk, I learned he was missing several colors from his collection of crayons. He had broken the others and wanted to know if there were extras. The teacher addressed me saying, “Yeah we will have extras for him, his sister did the same thing when I had her.”

Here, just like home, families are known, communities are close, and needs are met.

A.D.R.O.P. in Action

September 4th, 2019

Members of the A.D.R.O.P. team joined Cardinal Tobin and over 400 other in Newark, NJ for a march against the detention of immigrant children and separation of families. The group marched from St. Mary’s Church to the Federal Building/ICE offices to protest the inhumane actions threatening migrant families. If you want to learn more about what steps to take against the detention of migrant children and families follow this link.