“Thank you, Pittsboorg!”

The week is over. A pilgrimage to our “sister” mission in Chimbote, Peru is much, much more than a memory. As I shared with you in this “Bridging the Gap” communiqué the week before last, ten of our seminarians: Mike Ackerman, Eric Campbell, Mike Conway, Deacon Rob Fleckenstein, Deacon Dr. Tom Gillespie, Levi Hartle, Ken Marlovits, Michael Roche, Anthony Sciarappa and Carl Stuvek, joined Monsignor John E. Kozar, one of our Pittsburgh priests and National Director of the Society for the Propagation of the Faith, and myself in visiting the Maternidad de Maria Hospital in Chimbote, a city approximately 300 miles north of Lima, Peru. We were also joined by Dr. Dennis Woytek and Mary Jacquel from Duquesne University who are putting together a video journal of the pilgrimage.

As we began our journey, I shared with our seminarians the thought that we would return to Pittsburgh different people than we were when we went. They shared the same expectation. We were both right!

For close to 50 years, the Diocese of Pittsburgh has been a “sister” to the Maternidad de Maria. And what a wonderful “sister” she is to us. The numbers of poor who come to her each day are comforting. The dedication of staff who care for them is inspiring.

For several days, we saw firsthand service to the poor and sought firsthand to serve the poor. Expectant mothers, newborn babes, abandoned orphans, desperate spouses, single moms and others come to meet the healing presence of Christ at the Hospitalidad each day, 24-7-365.

For the same several days, we also went out to the outskirts of Chimbote with medical staff. We went once again to see firsthand and to seek firsthand to be with the poorest of the poor. These are people who are unable to come to the Hospital because they are too ill and so poor. And many children too! They with their expressive eyes, and soiled faces; they with their hands and hearts open—eager to receive a simple rosary or cross necklace, spoke a language that bridged the gap that their Spanish and our English could have divided us. They spoke the language of the heart to us. We spoke the language of the heart to them.

Imagination simply can’t imagine the poverty that exists in these fringe neighborhoods. The conditions are shocking, inhuman, and if not experienced, unbelievable. People live in thatched huts, often without any roof, open to the elements. Dirt floors often are their beds. Contaminated water the source of a “thirst quencher.” Homes shared with lots of bugs that partake of homegrown “food” cooked over a few twigs. Countless dogs roam these neighborhoods as malnourished as their human counterparts.

All this was enough to send any of us to the point of despair save for two important factors—(1) the genuine (and I mean real) joy of the people who lived in the squalor; and (2) the palpable presence of Christ amongst and within them.

These beautiful people welcomed us into their world, not as strangers, but as friends.

One woman, a wife deserted by her husband hooked on drugs and faced daily with taking care of their seven children, told me: “I can’t complain. I’m thankful for what I have!” What she had was really nothing! Yet there was a smile; a real smile on her face. Her smile, multiplied by the hundreds of genuine smiles of the mostly women, some men and lots of children in these Chimbote outskirts, will long stay with the seminarians and myself.

There was one poignant moment when at last twenty-five children were walking with the seminarians and myself, holding hands, holding our hands. We were walking to the next hut of another sick person. In unison they all joyfully said with a Peruvian accent: “Thank you, Pittsboorg!”

For all that we have been able to do as the Church of Pittsburgh for the poor in Chimbote, on their behalf I likewise say: “Thank you, Pittsboorg!”

For all that we must yet need to do for them and also on their behalf, I say: “Help them, Pittsboorg!”

All because Christ waits for us in them. All because they wait for Christ in us!