DEMONS
[The following is a story I made up last night for today’s gospel story of the Canaanite woman – in
Matthew 15: 21-28. I’ve always had trouble and wonderings about this story – so
writing a story helps me put some meaning into it. I like writing stories – and
I know something’s happening when I begin to wonder where the story is going
and how it’s going to end.]
She brought her daughter to a half dozen hospitals and
clinics in the city and nobody – no nobody - could help her.
Nobody could heal
her. Nobody could hear her daughter’s pain and her daughter’s horrors.
Like an
angry dog her demons barked in the basement of her mind – often keeping this
daughter of God awake and crying in the night.
Her mother also brought her to priests and ministers, shrinks
and specialists.
It seemed nobody knew what to do. It seemed after a while
nobody really cared. Her daughter was an impossible case.
Next.
It seemed to her mom that even God had abandoned her and
her daughter. It seemed Jesus didn’t care – every time she
brought her daughter to sit with her in her favorite church. Many an afternoon
the two of them would sit in a bench - in the second row - off to the side – sort of in the dark - near
the candles - of this little used Catholic Church – in the big city.
Her mom would pray and pray and pray to Jesus in the
tabernacle – in the Blessed Sacrament. Her mom would beg and beg. It seemed Jesus wasn’t listening – wasn’t helping. Wasn’t he the one
who said, “If you have faith, you’ll keep on knocking on God’s doors?”
Her daughter - with these unspeakable demons – would
sometimes yell out in that big empty church. Sometimes she scratch her arms –
sometimes to the point of bleeding. Luckily, nobody else was ever in the
church.
Her daughter was 21 – had been in several institutions – usually
for 2 or 3 days at a time – for observation - and had been dismissed from them
all. Nobody could come up with a diagnosis. What to do? Where to turn? What
now? What next?
Well, one afternoon, a 56 year old nun – which is young
for a nun in many religious orders these days -
just happened to drop into that little used Catholic Church.
Let the healing begin.
She had spotted the church - when the bus she was sitting in - stalled -
right outside that particular church – at that particular moment.
The nun got up from her window seat in the bus – walked
to the front – went down the 3 steps - and carefully slipped by the steam and
the smoke that was hissing - out from
under the motor of that bus.
The driver had said, “Sorry! Something’s wrong folks!
Better get out of the bus – till I get some help here.”
The nun walked up the 4 stone steps of the church. She
opened the big wooden center door. She then opened the inner doors and walked
into this big empty church – which she have never seen before.
She knelt down to pray
– in a back bench - first a prayer for the bus driver - and then for all the passengers – that
everyone would be safe and get home to their families okay.
It was then that she heard the girl with the demons
letting out a few shrieks of pain – somewhere down front and off to the side in
the church.
The nun, Sister Mary Patrick, reached for her bag – and
was about to head back out the front door. She heard a woman say, “Calm down
honey. Calm down. We’re in God’s house. We’re in God’s house - now.”
All was quiet again.
The nun said a prayer for whomever was yelling or
hurting.
Then she heard, “Mom, there’s someone back there. There’s
someone in the back of the church. Maybe we should leave.”
Both got up and headed for the back of the church….
Spotting the nun, the mother said, “Hello Sister, hello.
Could you say a prayer for my daughter? Could you give her a blessing.”
Pause.
“Yes,” the nun said. Then nervously she continued, “Let’s
say the Lord’s Prayer together.”
Surprise, the young girl reached out her hands – one to
the nun and one to her mom.
And they prayed the Our Father together.
Then the mother introduced herself and her daughter,
Georgia, to the nun. She told the nun that Georgia was named after her dad –
who disappeared a long time ago. It was just the two of them.
The nun introduced herself, “Hi. I’m Sister Mary Patrick.”
Then the mother for some reason said, “Sister can you
help us? My daughter and I need prayers
and healing.”
And then they sat down in that same bench. Then they told Sister Mary Patrick the whole
story.
Sister Mary Patrick asked the young girl, “Do you have a
job?”
“No!”
Then she asked her mom, “Do you have a job?”
“No!” said the mother as well.
“Well,” said Sister Mary Patrick, “I take care of old
nuns and I sure could use some help. I
can pay both of you at least the minimum wage and a tiny bit more - but that’s all I can pay.”
And the rest of the story is a story of healing – a
healing that started that day in that tiny little forgotten church in this big
city.
The old nuns - the 3 of them began to serve – were bed
ridden or in wheel chairs – in a big - 3 story old convent – about 13 blocks
away from that church. Good thing it had an elevator.
Georgia, her mom, and Sister Mary Patrick – became quite
a team. It was bedpans – lifting – lots of lifting – lots of meals – and lots
of love.
The old nuns fell in love with Georgia and her mom – and
Georgia found healing and peace – serving the old gals.
They asked about Georgia’s education – which was practically non-existent.
Well, that changed. In fact in 2 years time they had Georgia going to a
community college – having got her high school equivalency – home school nun
style mind you.
This is a story of healing – and it has a happy ending –
Georgia eventually met a neat guy in her job as a dental hygienist – began dating – got married – had 3 kids and
a great life together – and her mom – her mom became a great granny. And Sister
Mary Patrick – well – she was able to get more help and continued to serve her
sisters and from time to time Georgia and her husband and 3 kids – as well as
her mom – would drop into see the sisters – and Georgia would say, “This is
where it all happened kids – the place where your mom got well.”
Then with a big smile she'd finish, “Well, well, well, as the story goes. Amen.”
