Treating and Trying

I don´t really get along with the women who work in the orphanage of the house of the Missionaries of Charity. I don´t agree with some of their actions toward the children and and they still view me as an outsider who can´t speak the language. Generally when I try to talk to them, they don´t bother with understanding me and they won´t take the time to listen to me stumble through Spanish. As is their relationship with most visitors, we don´t talk much.

On Wednesday afternoon, one employee, Senora Anna, asks me to stay past visiting hours until the night worker arrives, so that she can leave. I agree, particularly because I am hesitant to put down a child who won´t stop crying. (Marcos, a 3-year old boy born a drug addict, whose body is so stiff is so stiff that it is hard for anyone to move his limbs.)

Several of the older children had been shut in a bedroom with the door locked and after Senora Anna leaves, I unlock the door and try to attend to crying babies. Within minutes, the girls take a bag of hard candy and containers of icing from the kitchen and begin devouring them. As they had already placed mattresses and bedsheets onto the floor, the food wrappers add to the clutter of the rooms. I worry about the girls choking on candy but am too involved with others to take the sweets away. After I lug Vicky to the bathroom to change her diaper, one of the nuns enters and is angry that the girls are out and the rooms are messy.

Everything seems overwhelming and I control what I can--I take half-eaten candy from the girls, pick up trash off the floor, and I rearrange blankets and beds. While washing dishes, I try to block out the kids who are crying and I am realize that I am doing exactly the orphanage workers do that bothers me: putting chores over giving attention to the children.

Yet, messiness adds to a feeling of unease, and housework is something that can be completed while suffering is ceaseless. My focus on tasks over children may be wrong but the feelings that drive me to it gives me more understanding and empathy for the women who work at the orphanage. They have a hard job that they were n´t trained for and that they get little credit for doing.

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A change to unwind comes at night during an impromptu party for Padre´s 20th anniversary as a priest. When I ask Padre if the last 20 years have been as he expected, he replies that he has learned a little bit more about how to treat people better. He wasn´t expecting to have so many parties or dinners or be with people so much, but he has learned that the most important thing is how you treat people and that you are with them.

¨When you go to heaven´s door, St. Peter will ask you how much time you spent with people. And if you were busy with other things, he´ll say, ´then what were you there for?´´ Padre says.

Theoretically, I love Padre´s words because my life is about striving to be there for and with people . While this is still challenging and frustrating, I have gotten better at being there for people who are disenfranchised and destitute. However, his words point to a different actions--how do you offer love and acceptance toward people if if you don´t agree with their actions and if they don´t respect you?

During our community spiritual night, I offer a prayer intention for the orphanage employees. The next day, I make small talk with Senora Anna and ask what can be done about Marcos´ crying and she holds and him rubs his back in a manner that quells his tears. Later on, she sits on the mat and tickles and teases a group of children while they jump on her back. It is one of the only times that I have ever seen her play with the kids. This moment tells me to try to understand others better no matter who they are and what my past experiences with them have been.