‘Make visible what without you might never be seen’. (Robert Bresson)
Tucked in a corner Bobby stood stately as he played Leonard Cohen’s ‘Allelulia’ on a piano. Beautiful, no audience, he didn’t seem to need one. I offered him a Miraculous Medal, he accepted with a smile. ‘Do you ever pray’, I asked. ‘When I need to’ he replied. We shook hands and parted.
Outside Heuston Station a man walked erratically in my direction. My first thought to avoid him, seemed like the most shrewd thing to do, instead, I asked if he would like a Miraculous Medal. ‘I would love one’, he replied, kissing the medal reverently, his cheerful smile veiling more than a hint of sadness. ‘You have lovely teeth’, he said, as he danced or stumbled away from me. I was reminded of something I read recently - ‘Smile, sunshine is good for your teeth’. I was glad we met.
Grafton Street in festive mood, high spirits, glamour extraordinaire, flashy and insipid. She was crouched down on the cold cement, scantily clad, a paper cup in her frail freezing hand. She looked so young. As I placed money in her cup and handed her a miraculous medal, her pretty face lit up with the most heavenly smile. ‘Jesus loves you’, I told her. ‘He will help you, just ask Him’. Much later, I glanced in her direction not expecting her to recognise me in the madding crowd. To my immense delight she waved knowingly. I was overjoyed and now she will remain forevermore in my heart and prayer. In a most unlikely setting, we made a beautiful connection and now we are both richer. That’s life!
The gratitude and happiness of folk when I offer them a Miraculous Medal or Rosary beads touches my deepest heart every time, oftentimes they are moved to tears. Almost always, the money I gift takes second place. No doubt about it, there is indeed a deep hunger in all of us for God, a yearning for something beyond. A gaping hole that only God can fill.
Back home again with my gentle folk in the quiet of the Nursing Home, two very different environments yet fundamentally the same. We, all of us, have a deep need to be loved, to be seen. A kindhearted word and gesture, a helping hand in time of trouble are the only diamonds really worth getting and giving.
Observing glamorous folk almost tripping over a man in a sleeping bag on the pavement moved me to tears. They didn’t look down, if they did, they saw nothing. Man’s inhumanity to man. Folk dropping money in a homeless person’s cup without even a sideward glance really upset me too. A simple hello, or even a nod would suffice, it costs so little to be nice.
Next time I will be super organised for my stroll around Dublin, meeting and greeting my faceless, nameless sisters and brothers lost in plain sight on inhospitable pavements. We will exchange our tales of weakness, woes and wonder. We will drink coffee and devour Danish pastries. Saint Mother Teresa tells us that we find Christ in the distressing disguise of the poor. She should know, truth has a ring to it!
‘If you want God to hear your prayers, hear the voice of the poor. If you wish God to anticipate your wants, provide those of the needy without waiting for them to ask you’. (St. Thomas of Villanova)
‘God and the poor await us, side by side’. (Mother Mary Alphonse: Servant of God)
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