The refugees have suffered tremendously. I look back at the stories of Charles, Virgilio, Cesaria, Thomas, Chaplain, Paride, and Matilde in that chapter and I am humbled by their total trust in God. Their honesty and at times real hunger but they never lose trust that God is with them. They literally believe that God has intervened in their lives. Many of them lost children or spouse but they never lose hope in God. I had to read that chapter more than once.

In reading about the suffering of the refugees how can I ever look at suffering in the same way. Do I even know what suffering is after Gary has shared about the suffering of these beautiful people.

Each chapter has more beautiful people like Pamela who wanted an education and literally walked almost 60 miles without much to eat because of her determination to receive an education. Such endurance!!

This week the story of Gary's friend dying and his sharing of their journey over the years and then his journey to eternity was really a beautiful sharing of the human spirit's journey. This story touched me deeply as I continue being with cancer patients and share their journeys. I am grateful for these stories and the courage of their struggles.

These stories truly do prepare for the celebration of Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter.

We all suffer and have pain/sorrow but, the depth, breadth, and duration is different for each of us. (Remembering the pity shown Fr. Gary - "You have no idea what hurt is!") (P.83) God only gives us what we we can bear and eventually learn how to share. Our greatest gift in life is our love for and of others which is born of God's love for us.(P163) Our experience of suffering unites us to each other and God. For it is in the suffering that we realize His gift to us - His love and the ability of us to love each other, with compassion.

Paride's powerful statement - " I cannot leave the church because I am part of the church; to deny the Body of Christ would be to deny my experience of escape, and, as you can see, that experience has changed my life." (P152) startlingly brought forth, the realization that I too believe that, although my escape was not as his.

The journey this year is bringing forth a level of sensitivity I'd lost and the definite recognition that I still don't trust God completely! I'm grateful for the time I've spent prayerfully reading/reflecting and pray for the gift of discernment and trust!

Pamela

Pamela is a character which I would like to remember and cherish as an icon of many children in Africa. She carries within her hope and despair. It is unbelievable that she had travelled for 60 miles long, alone, in search of sponsorship for education. Her faith in JRS mission is a consolation. Pamela stopped me for a while and did not allow me to proceed with other chapters.

More than asking for support or sponsorship for education, she wanted to know who deprived her of education and why she had to walk alone 60 miles to find a school. Finally Pamela found a school; Hakim embraced his brother Thomas Sebit, thought to be dead. These are signs of hope. Day by day my faith is tested by the lives of the refugees.

Yayo

Meeting Yayo is a powerful experience. Gary wonders about her mysticism, and I wonder along with him. Yayo's beauty and mystique clearly shine brightly beyond her decrepit physical state, and Gary receives the gift of her sincere presence.The whole chapter expounds on the women in the camps. Each one I have met has touched my heart, and I have been reflecting on the women in a general way, so this chapter gives me pause to go more deeply into that. Perhaps I relate to them through our sisterhood, I am a mother, who has breastfed children. So I laugh at Gary's "exposure" to so many breasts, stated early in the book, and I understand the women; their womanhood brings life and sustenance to the children of the poor, who could God love more dearly?

I think of all the African mothers in the camps and relate to many experiences. Three years ago, I gave birth to a child. It was a complicated pregnancy; at that time, I did realize and rejoice in 'modern' medicine, which enabled both of us to live. But during that same time, Gary was in a refugee camp, burying a mother next to her tukul, one who didn't survive childbirth. He would have buried me and perhaps my child, too, if that's where we lived.

I am noticing gradual changes within myself. I find I read more news about the people of Africa, and with more interest, more connectedness. These are brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ. And I am sorrowed and outraged by what continues to occur. And I am grateful to come to know people so courageous and faithful. And human. A fitting end to the chapter comes with Gary's description of his annoyance at Mary Kenyi, constantly asking for something; This day she surprises, as the feminine face of God surprises - a generous gift!

I, too, salute the amazing African mother, enduring chronic suffering with dignity, courage, strength.

blessings, Susan in KY

My outlook on life has continues to change with each chapter I read. We are told that things will make us happier. When I realize that the cost of a dinner for two could provide one term's tuition at a JRS secondary school, skipping an evening out and donating the cost of the dinner might assist a young lady like Pamela. would be easy to do. It is shocking that girls do not have feminine hygiene products and underwear and this can cause them to miss some days at school every month. God seems to be telling me, in all these chapters, that there is another way of life. His children are more important than things. I now look at refugees and other needy people with a different attitude.

I am inspired by the faith of these people is . They are face with many trials but they don't give up. In some instances their faith seems to get stronger with each trial. Each person in God Does Not Forget His People spoke of trusting God, turning to prayer when tempted to lose hope.

It would be wonderful to attend the Holy Week liturgies described in Cloud of Witnesses. The washing of feet which have never worn shoes. Gary was right when he said, "They get it" when he looked into the faces of faith. I feel that I am "getting it"since I started reading They Came Back Singing.

The refrain from today's psalm, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted" immediately brought to mind the stories of the people as they escaped from certain death in the Sudan. Every one of their stories expressed the belief and conviction that God was with them.I am touched by their faith and their simple certitude that they are in God's hands and He has not let them down. I marvel that they can have such faith even if they are the sole survivors in their family. They believe deeply that God is with them and God will provide and they themselves enter into their community and live their beliefs so that each is helping and supporting the other.
I am constantly surprised and touched just as Gary was when he wrote: "my world has been turned around.......old ways of relating don't work here, and a new level of sensitivity emerges....I am still the same guy but replanted is the daily vicissitudes of the culture and environment of Africa...."

The triduum that Gary relates where each of the services were conducted in a different village made me look at my participation in Holy Week here in the States. I have always loved Holy Thursday and Good Friday and the Vigil. This year I think that the singing, dancing children and the worn, dirty feet that Gary knelt down to wash as well as the corpus of Christ held together by a rubber band will come to mind. He said that the political situation caused the Vigil to begin at 4 PM and that "took the punch out of the Service of Light." .....but the people adjusted just as they adjust every day of their lives. Even in the midst of the sublime Gary can always find some humor - some real down to earth moments - such as his referral to himself as "Father Bicycle".

I am sorry that we are more than halfway through Lent. I will miss the sharing of these lives and the moments each day when I go into the stories that Gary wrote about. The people will stay with me - I hope that they do because as I read their stories I am learning about myself and my relationship with God. I wish that relationship to be as direct - as sincere - as simple - and as faithful as these beautiful people. That is what I pray for as Lent draws closer to Holy Week.

Mo, Mills River, NC

This week's selections all seem to be about things we take for granted. Pamela walks for days to get to school with only 50 cents. In Omaha, we had a young boy pass away from leukemia. A few weeks ago, he was able to get his life's wish. He rode a yellow school bus to school and attended school for one day. He did not want to go to Disneyland or meet some famous sports hero, he just wanted to go to school for a day. Some American students need to see this. They skip school or are tardy and just don't care. Fr. Gary gets excited because he finally gets a warm shower after several weeks without one. He did not appreciate that convenience until it was taken away from him. In Uganda, girls who are having their menstrual period have to miss school because of a lack of access to feminine hygiene products just like in the public service announcement we see on television. It seems reminiscent of ancient times when Native Americans or the tribes of Israel had a separate place for women during this time.

The part I found the most enlightening was when the refugees told their own stories and what it was like to lose loved ones. I wonder how often I take my wife and children for granted or my own ability to go to work and not worry about killing squads. It is definitely something to think about.

Steve in Omaha

“This is who I am, and this is the Love that calls me into existence” (75). This sentence follows the passage that talks about Gary’s close call with death from the emergency appendectomy. His recovery makes sense in light of the work that he is doing and the love and comfort that he dispenses to the refuges, to all with whom he comes in contact.

What about an ordinary person? How can someone who does not dispense such gifts of God in such a desperate place take comfort in the fact of God’s having returned them to life from the brink of death? God returned me to life from an aneurism, just about intact. I would like to say I am more “intact,” more connected to the grace of God as it can infuse our humanity, but I cannot. I dwell in the frailty of human life; I am not an example of someone who dwells in the faith and hope that imbues Gary’s African people. Especially in reading Gary’s journal and realizing the suffering that afflicts so many of the innocent of this world, how can the ordinary person justify the gifts of a blessed life? That paragraph on page 75 answers that question probably as well as it can be answered. Gary trusts the Love that “impels and surrounds” him.

For those of us who do not engage in heroic labors, that trust is also necessary. We must trust the Love that called us back into existence (paraphrase of Gary’s words) in a place of safety and comfort. We must open our hearts and minds to the wider world. We must look into the faces of those around us for the beauty that thrills Gary’s heart in the refugee camps.

Christine in Massachusetts

Father Smith often writes that he falls back to comfortable, familiar surroundings to regroup and reinvigerate his will. His stress is brought about by the suffering and "minor" squabbles going on around him and his self-doubts in being anble to deal with them and the people who come to him for guidance on the matters. Things he has no control over. On these trips he often finds a sign from God that helps him get back up and carry on. The love between a man and woman; a man and his family; a mother and her children; the community in which he lives. The love of God always brings him back to what is important.

Today, I was dealt some news that was life altering, and not for the better. I am about to begin my own exodus into the troubled unknown of tomorrow. Have followed Father Smith's story to this point, and beyond, I know that people have been able to pick up and keep going in the face of severe physical and mentsl pain and anguish. God protects them and brings them through, not always unchanged, but he is there and guides them through.

As I sat here tonight wondering what my next step was going to be, trying to figure out what my future is going to be, the phone rang. It was God. It sounded an awful lot like one of the guys from my Scout District (I'm the cub master, so I have my own little ministry), but I've been through enough lately and learned enough here to recognize God when he talks. He wanted my thoughts and ideas on improving the program, and capitalizing on the little successes I've had with my group. After a half an hour I thanked God for bringing me back around to what is really important and helping me move forward. My exodus is still largely dark and unknown, but I don't have time to worry about it. There are little lives out there looking to me to lead their next hike and tell them what kind of bug is on their shoulder and whether it is poisonous or not...

Larry, 43
- California

I’m late with this reflection. The gift from this tardiness is how today’s first Mass reading, from Isaiah, connected with my attention to these beautiful people Gary Smith was sent to. The Isaiah reading promises “a new heaven and a new earth,” more concretely pictured as a place in which we will have full lifetimes, build houses and live in them, plant crops and enjoy the fruits. The words are addressed to a people in exile from their homes, deprived of the everyday joy of creating a stable home and providing for themselves and their families.

As I thought about how important it is to me to have a place that is home (on many levels), and the times in my life when I have not felt at home where I was, I had a new sense of the suffering exile must be. And of course that is exactly the situation of refugees: they have lost their homes, maybe forever. They cannot count on harvesting crops, on a place, on the presence of loved ones. Life is so fragile here.
The joy we hear of, despite everything, is amazing.