Dear Family and Friends,
The bus drove in silence as we made our way on the road where Maura, Ita, Dorothy, and Jean had been taken. As we walked in silence up the rocky road that lead to the place of their deaths we heard what sounded like gunshots (we later learned the sound was from the celebratory bottle rockets commemorating the anniversary or their martyrdom) ... But we had not known that ... I could not help but feel the fear these women must have felt that day.
But every where I turn I hear nothing but stories of hope sprouting from the land on which their life bled out. Stories of faith, of love, of companionship, and of devotion to the human rights of all people! The Mass in the chapel resurrected on the site where their bodies were found was one of celebration and joy!
After Mass we processed outside to the monument in their memory where we heard story after story testifying to the lives of these women! We laid roses in their honor. We remembered!
We have all experienced moments of hurt and discouragement ... We have all had experiences where we have felt misunderstood and attacked... In some of those moments in my own life I have had people of deep faith and compassion reach out, touch my hand, and listen to my story. I think we forget how powerful listening and solidarity are ... We are not always called to "fix" sometimes—maybe even often—we are called to just "be".
I think that's what these women must have been to this community. They came to be with, to live with, to reach their hand out and touch the hands of others. To say nothing more than "I am here".
I am grateful for those in my own life who have been that presence! And I hope that I may lead my life in a way that others may say that of me.
Con amor,
Sarita
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