Reflection

By Teresa

I have been serving for the past five months as a Catholic missionary at a children's home in Trujillo, Honduras. Trujillo is just one hour east of Tocoa, where Juan López was assassinated. They are also in the same Diocese of Catholic churches - the Diocese of Trujillo. Since Juan's death, each church in the Diocese has had a banner of Juan placed at the front of the church in remembrance and in a constant call for justice. I'd sit in mass every Sunday and see this picture of Juan; I'd pray for him and for his cause and for his family. I knew bits of his story and the history of the Guapinol; I only had a few pieces of a puzzle, and never expected to see the whole picture so personally and completely.

In the Bajo Agaun, in Tocoa, we visited Thelma - the wife of Juan López- in her home. We sat on the couches he'd have sat on, in the space where he shared life with his family. We met his best friends and coworkers and visited his office where he organized and worked. And probably most touching of all, we visited his tomb and celebrated his life in a small way, through poetry and song. We sang "Ven con nosotros", which happens to be one of my favorite Marian hymns we sing at the children's home. Saying it was an honor to visit these places can't describe the feeling well enough. To see the places he loved and fought for, and especially to meet the people he loved and continues to love was humbling as I realized the sheer strength and love of this community.

My mind and heart was opened to their lives and their struggles. As I sat after encountering this community and family, after hearing the incredible stories, the terrible fights, and the inspiring hope, one question went through my mind. What can I do? I live very sheltered at the children's home and have limited abilities to leave, especially to go outside of the community. What could I possibly do that could be of any help? I think this is a question many people on the delegation have, especially as they prepare to go back to the US. I asked Jose, and he gave me the paraphrased wise words of Oscar Romero - you have to do something. That did not give me much guidance on what to do, but was the kind of straight-to-the-point wisdom I needed. My goal isn't to have some grand impact, my goal is only to help. I looked up the quote later and what Oscar Romero said in total was, “We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. This enables us to do something, and to do it very well”.  It's so easy to hear, feel, then forget. But I can't do that. We can't do that. We have to experience and be impacted and then act in whatever capacity we can. We cannot permit a moment like this to be an isolated event in our lives. It is a privilege to do that, to forget. A privilege that our brothers and sisters in Bajo Aguan do not have. And because they are our brothers and sisters, we share their pain and have a responsibility to them and their struggles.

Therefore, forgetting is not a privilege we have either. So, I'm left pondering and discerning - what can I do? I'm resolved to do something, and do it to the best of my abilities within the mission I serve. I can't do everything, but if I do a part and someone else does their part and someone else, their's, pretty soon, we'll have everything done - together, as a community.

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