Thankful

by Fr. Francis Mary Roaldi, CFR

Naturally enough, I had never heard of Pica. I was newly arrived to Honduras, as well as only recently initiated into my work at St. Benedict Joseph Medical Center, and so many of the things medical that have occurred are far beyond my very limited scope of knowledge. Nevertheless, as the four nurses continued to discuss their day, and the two cases of Pica, I felt my stomach drop.

The occasion of the nurses' presence was the first ever nursing brigade done at St. Benedict Joseph Medial Center. Judy Craig, Linda Mendelson, Jeanne Teter and Bridget Lane found a very generous benefactor to finance their trip down. Along with SBJ’s own Dr. Carlos, for five days they attended patients in remote villages where there is next to no medical care. For hours on end they sat under trees or simple shelters examining patients, and then, having done a great deal of preliminary work, they sent them through to Dr. Carlos so he could make a final assessment. Each day dozens of people were welcomed with a smile and treated. Dr. Carlos, who regularly travels to mountain villages to care for people, considered the whole week a success.

At the end of each day the nurses and the brothers had a chance to share a meal and chat about the day. While many of the stories were interesting, I must admit, the one I've referred to at the beginning of this article has stayed with me over many months - and I now share it with you. Pica, the condition the nurses mentioned, is a vitamin or iron deficiency. They diagnosed it by what the children were eating: one sand, the other dirt. Listening to their conversation, I was in a state of shock. There was part of me that simply could not believe that within a short drive from the friary there were children eating sand and dirt for lack of proper food. Yes, I live a relatively simple lifestyle, but certainly at a level of comfort and security far above what those little ones will ever know.

To what does the realization of such realities lead one? To question God? Yes, perhaps. To feel pangs of guilt at having an abundance when others have so little? Yes, again, a very natural reaction. I sincerely hope I continue to be challenged by the poverty and need of those around me, without ever thinking or imagining that I have all the answers or even could have all the answers. I am not God - nor should I pretend to be.

This heartbreaking story also led me to a further reflection: thank God the nurses came. Thank God they took the time to come to Honduras, give their professional help for a week, traveling through the mountains to reach the poor, the pregnant, the malnourished, the struggling, and the hurt. Thank God SBJ is able to be a constant presence of mercy for so many.

Every day that I walk from our friary here in Comayagua to the medical center, there is invariably a line of people waiting to be seen by the doctors - thirty, forty, or fifty strong. Young and old, men, women, and children all come, five days a week, eight hours a day, almost every week of the year. I am grateful for the small role I play in a place that impacts positively the lives of so many. I am so grateful for your role in keeping SBJ going exactly for those folks that line up each day. You keep SBJ going for all the people who are operated on during the surgical missions. And of course, you keep SBJ going for those two little kids up in the mountains of Honduras, who we'll never meet, but who were treated one April day by four generous nurses. On behalf of all of these people, thank you very much.

Please continue to keep us in your prayers. We need them to help us do not just good work, but God's work. I sincerely thank you ahead of time for your prayers and financial support. Please know that we commend you, your families and your needs to God. May God bless you and keep you.