Sue's Corner
May 2012
I have been retired almost three years now. I keep asking myself: ”What is retirement?”
Yes, I am retired from a job with a salary. But my days are full and the rewards are great. Each day I can make a choice about what I want to do, where I want to go, or who I want to meet with. Retirement turns out to be all about choices.
Three years ago, we bought a home in South Carolina. We moved here in June of 2009. The days, weeks, and years have evaporated. We have met new friends, had amazing experiences, and entered our new life with excitement and enthusiasm.
This is the best time of our life. Each day Pete goes off to meet with the people who live in the woods. His people are the ones who are “off the grid”.
My days are a little different. I take care of the home front and some days I go off to the soup kitchen where I meet with a variety of people with a variety of needs. Other days I work at a shelter with an agency that helps men, women and children who are victims of domestic violence. I love that we have the freedom to choose what we want to do and how we spend our days.
Because we live in a small town, sometimes my work at the soup kitchen overlaps my work with the other organization. I walked into a tutoring session with a woman at the shelter, only to have her tell me that I looked familiar. It turns out that I had helped her get her South Carolina ID card when she had come to the soup kitchen. Now I’m helping her learn math so she can get her high school diploma at the age of thirty. She is ready to change her life and get out of the downward spiral that had her captive.
This weekend I was talking to my seven year old grandson about my tutoring experience and this woman’s desire to get her high school diploma. He asked why she had been going to school for thirty years. I explained that she didn’t finish school, she had to leave. Then he wanted to know why she had to leave school before she had graduated. It had never occurred to him that anyone would not go straight through school and also graduate from college.
It is so wonderful that my sweet grandson loves school and learning. He has the great gifts curiosity and intelligence and a family that will always love and support him. The choices he has in life will be unlimited.
The people I have been working with do not have that support network. When they lose a job, or have to leave their home because it is not a safe place, or they get sick and have to go to the emergency room because they have no insurance; there is no one who will take them home and help them overcome their difficulty. They have no options. They don’t know what choices are available to them. Their lives have been so limited by their life experience that they do not have the tools necessary to move out of their situation.
It is my job these days to help people find options. One of the frequent things I find myself saying is “Everyone needs help at some time in their life.” Once they relax, we begin the process of looking at their individual circumstances to see how they can help themselves move into a better place in their lives and their community. It’s all about opening their lives to the possibilities that are out there – the choices that I hope they can make for themselves.
What a magnificent gift it is to have choices.
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There is a neighborhood I drive through frequently on my weekly journeys. It is long blocks of little brick houses. Windows are boarded up on most of them. Weeds are growing in the yards, trees are grey and dying . There are junk-filled yards surrounded by chain link fences. At first I was horrified by house after empty house. I wondered – could they all be foreclosures? I was repulsed by the ugliness of the desolation. Every so often there was a house that looked like someone might live there – a house with signs of life – a car or an open door.
This is the neighborhood where my friend lives. Where she has found a ewer, better place to live: a place where her roof doesn’t leak, where the cockroaches do not inhabit the underside of her refrigerator, where the rats do not keep her company as she watches T.V., where the drug deals do not go down in her front yard, where the nights are quiet and not broken up with gunshots. She has a new life in this quiet neighborhood.
As I drive through here several times each week, I have come to see it with new eyes. I still see the boarded up windows, the graffiti on the walls, the crumbling doorposts, broken screens, trash everywhere.
But I also see the house with a row of pansies lining the front walkway. The yard lovingly cared for with chairs on the front porch. I see the children playing in the dirt – like children in back yards everywhere – making delicious mud pies. I see the corner house with the basketball net where all the teens are playing ball. I see people in their front yards talking with each other, smiling and laughing with each other. I see the rusted bar-be-que belching smoke, inviting the neighbors over for a shared meal.
I see a neighborhood I’d be proud to be a part of – where people care about each other and notice when a person comes and goes with a wave of the hand or a shouted greeting. I know my friend is happy here. She has decorated her house with curtains and little trinkets from the dollar store.
She gets her disability check and can pay her rent. She has registered to vote. I pick her up each Tuesday morning to take her to the soup kitchen where she spends the morning socializing while I drive people to various appointments. She waits for me to get her after lunch and we do her small errands – get a few dollars so she can buy kerosene, go to the dollar store to buy her few necessities, sometimes get an ice tea and Mc Donalds. She doesn’t get out of the neighborhood unless someone takes her. She has no car; she walks with a cane and a limp.
One day I had to go all the way to York, SC. She went with me because she hadn’t been to York in at least ten years (it’s about 20 miles away). She marveled at all the changes in the countryside.
And always we return to the neighborhood where she lives, the rows of empty houses, the place where the neighbors know each other. And she is happy to be home.
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The following is an article we were asked to write for the Oratory newsletter. We thought it might be of interest to some of you. For more information about the Oratory go to www.rockhilloratory.org.
Our God is a God of surprises.
In June of 2009, after several months of prayer and discernment, we packed up all of our earthly goods, said good bye to a lifetime of friends, and drove from San Jose, California to Rock Hill, South Carolina. The first Sunday we were here was just too hectic to get to church, but on the second Sunday we “map quested” our way to Saint Mary’s Church for eight am mass.
We “retired” to Rock Hill with a history of church, campus ministry, youth group, retreat and service experience. We have worked with economically poor for more than 45 years through our own not for-profit called Truck of Love. We have facilitated groups in poor colonias in Mexico and established a children’s day camp on the Tohono O’Odham Native American Reservation in Arizona. We have attempted to listen to God calling us even when it involved Pete’s leaving home in 1997 to be homeless for two months.
So, on July 4, 2009, we walked into St. Mary’s hoping we would find a new community in our new home town. Oh, my, were we surprised!
Greeted with hugs in the gathering space, invited into the church, praying with a community that seemed to really enjoy worshipping together, hearing Father David speak about the scripture – we had come home. Returning the next Sunday to try the ten am mass with the Gospel choir, we were hooked. We found ourselves looking forward to Sundays. Gradually we got involved.
Pete would go to the Dorothy Day Soup Kitchen two days a week. I thought I’d try the Wednesday night religious education class. From those encounters came an invitation to attend a meeting of the St. Mary’s Social Concerns Committee.
We have found at St. Mary’s, the Catholic community of our dreams.
This is what the Catholic Church is meant to be: a community of believers who love each other and their God and show that love in a variety of ways. The Sunday liturgy has also introduced us to the men’s and women’s prayer breakfasts, Thursday night lecture series, the prayer shawl ministry, revivals, and a variety of social gatherings.
Behind it all is the Oratory. We keep telling our California friends about this (new to us) concept of priests and brothers living in voluntary community.
Since our early days in Rock Hill we have reflected on why St. Mary’s parish is different from any parish we have ever belonged to. For us it comes back to the men of the Oratory who have chosen a ministry and a way of living that gives them an intimate experience of life that is relevant to the people in the pews. These men have chosen to pray with, live with and care for each other as the family of God. We have been blessed to witness how they cared for Father David in his last days and how they continued to serve the people even in the midst of their own pain and suffering. We have seen their concern for the poor and vulnerable. We have learned how St. Mary’s parish began and how it was the Oratorians who lived here and listened to the people and helped them create “the Catholic”. We have seen how seamlessly the Oratory and the people of St. Mary’s were able to make the transition with our new pastor, Fr. Joseph. This we attribute to the men of the Oratory who have a common grounding in Christ, social justice, and community.
We thought we were coming to Rock Hill to quietly live out our last years in relative peace. Instead we have found a community that challenges us each day to listen to what God wants of us. A community that helps us to say “yes” to our God of surprises!
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I was driving through the neighborhood back to the Dorothy Day Soup Kitchen with “Joe” when we passed the neighborhood bar. I had read in the newspaper that there had been some trouble there in the past weeks.
I casually said to Joe: ”I hear that place is pretty bad.”
Joe replied: “It’s no different than any place. If I jus wanna shoot a couple games of pool and go home, it’s alright. It’s what I make of it. Not mine to judge. Nor yours.”
Whoa – out of the mouth of the wise…
Joe’s been trying to get his life together. We’d just been to the DMV to get a South Carolina ID. They had rejected him and told him all the items he needed to have – come back later. He’d been really angry, but had been super polite to the woman at the desk.
When we left, I praised him for his good manners. He said he’d gotten into lots of trouble in the past because of his temper. He is going to church every Sunday and trying to be a better person. He’s gonna let God be his help.
He talked about how we are the only ones who can help ourselves. It’s all about our attitude. He has decided he wants to have a better life. He’s tired of jail and people who make bad decisions. He doesn’t want to live that way anymore.
He knows that if he keeps working and doing good, God will take care of him.
Thanks, Joe.
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Today is the second "snow day" in a row. I am here at home accomplishing all sorts of things I have been putting off. I am in my wonderful warm home, surrounded by a lifetime of trinkets from various friends we have encountered and places we have experienced over our 45 years together. Pete and I revel in being in this place and looking out on the winter wonderland that surrounds us. The quiet of the countryside, the birds fighting over the suet feeder I have hanging in the garden – these are gifts that unfold in new and surprising ways each day.
My thoughts keep turning to the people I was supposed to have appointments with these past two days. The people I was supposed to drive to the doctor - the people who have no phone, so I cannot call to tell them I'll not be there.
I think of the man Pete bought kerosene for on Thursday – enough for a couple of days to heat his 800 square foot house. It's now Tuesday, and the can of kerosene must be empty by now. We cannot get to him because our roads are frozen.
What in the world is happening to the people living in the woods? Well, I can only imagine what that is like. Pete just about froze going to our mailbox after almost killing himself on the ice to get there and back.
Last week I had an appointment with the Rock Hill Housing Authority – trying to get an apartment for one of the patrons of the Dorothy Day Soup Kitchen. There are some wonderful people here in Rock Hill who are doing great work. The woman at the housing authority could not have been kinder or more helpful. But it will probably take another 6-8 weeks before the preliminary paperwork and clearances are completed. Then how long will it be until an apartment becomes available?
Tomorrow the snow and ice will be less. For sure on Thursday, I will be able to get back to the soup kitchen. It's gonna be a busy day. There will be lots of folks waiting for someone to drive them to get an ID card or apply for food stamps or go to the clinic for prescriptions. I can hardly wait…
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It’s been a long time since I have had an opportunity to think and write for this space on the website.
Since our move to South Carolina, there has been a constant changing. It’s easy to see God’s hand in this because it has been relatively easy. As the months have gone by, my involvement in our church community has increased – specifically my involvement in the Dorothy Day Soup Kitchen.
Last week I sat on the bench in the long hallway outside the dining room. I watched as men and women and a few small children wandered in and out. The kitchen is a place to get in out of the cold as well as a place to find food and some clothing.
I was reminded of Mary and Joseph who went to Bethlehem because of the census. When they were in Bethlehem, it was time for Jesus to be born. Mary “wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”
Some of the people who come to the soup kitchen are there early in the morning because they have to leave the overnight shelters by 7am. Many walk several miles just to get to the kitchen. Some land on the benches in the hallway and doze off. Others line up outside on the wall where the sun shines its warmth. They spend their days trying: trying to find work, trying to get permanent lodging, trying to stay warm until they can get under the covers again in the evening at the shelter.
It seems there is still little room for the poor.
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May 24, 2000
The following is a recent update from our friends Greg and Kate Kremer:
To all who have been following our story with Roberto and Brenda...
On top of his physical limitations, Roberto has a disorder of some sort that binds up his left or right side occasionally. It keeps him from being able to work on his therapy with regularity. Working on this disorder was not part of our planned work with Roberto. We didn't even really know of it until he arrived. So we were unprepared with funds. But God does provide. We have received free care and testing with the University Medical and Dental Hospital in Newark. What a blessing.
Today we had a meeting with the head of pediatric neurology at UMDNJ. She ascertained, with the help of some video footage we shot last weekend, that Roberto does not have a seizure disorder akin to epilepsy. She is quite certain that he has a motor neuron disorder more like Parkinson's disease. These disorders are very rare in children so there are only two centers in this county that specialize in these diseases with children. One is in NYC and happens to be run by one of her best friends. Immediately upon viewing the video she picked up the phone and called him. As she put down the phone she called a nurse and had the video fedexed immediately to NYC. So now we are being passed from one of the foremost figures in children's seizure disorders to one of the foremost experts in the world in children's neuro-motor dysfunction. We are closing in on Roberto's problem and perhaps solution. Thanks be to God.
If there were an occasion to pray this would be it. There is actually a slight possibility that, if Roberto has a certain disease, he will walk and talk unassisted. Please pray that all goes well and that Roberto is given the gift of walking and talking.
On the homefront we have been working on some major things as well. Roberto has had some real problems with potty training. Brenda has tried everything she knows to get him to go and was beginning to wonder about his ability in this area. She was really downhearted. So we all put our heads together. We came up with... a potty seat so that Roberto does not have to fear that he will fall into the toilet! And we decided to begin trying to potty Tess at the same time. And we put up a chart with Roberto and Tess' name on it. They each get a star for every time they pee! All this in place, the next morning Roberto was sitting on the toilet and Tess walked in. She walked right over to him and put her arms around him and in her very knowing two year old voice said, " I will help you go potty Roberto."
I translated. Roberto peed! We all cheered! He has been peeing since. Seven stars yesterday, six today. He just beams when he goes. God really does answer prayers.
And there are lots of other things to work on. Roberto now has his own walker. When both his legs are functioning he is practicing. He also has a communication device, a little board with pictures. When he touches the picture it says a word or phrase. He is learning how to use it and we are designing the pictures and words to be useful for him. He is still going to physical, occupational and speech therapy every week. We are very busy and are doing well.
Love,
Kate and Greg.TOP OF PAGE
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