Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul West Central Province
Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul West Central Province
Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul West Central Province
We would like to share with you and celebrate the charism in the lives of some individual Daughters of Charity. Some of these are simply random notes, memories and stories with no particular beginning nor end, some may be more linear in nature. Some are memories from others who knew the particular Sister, some are the Sister's own words. Some of these Sisters are living, some are deceased. These stories enliven the charism as nothing else can. They also enliven us. It is these lived experiences that many times motivate us to live the charism in our daily lives or to see the charism alive in the everyday actions of those around us and well as in ourselves. We hope you enjoy these Charism Stories.
“I loved Long Beach as soon as I saw it. We were four Sisters there and three of us were from Donaldsonville, LA – Sister Mathilde Comstock, Sister Raymond Landry and myself.”
“Two years later the Depression had begun and some of the families lost their land. The Pastor, Fr. Hager, also felt it. He wrote to Sister Visitatrix and asked that she take one of the Sisters from Long Beach for he couldn’t afford thirty-five dollars for each of the four Sisters for ten months. Sister replied that the four Sisters could stay and be paid each twenty-five dollars a month. This lasted until the early fifties.”
The following reality story came from the experience of Sr. Elizabeth Merkel and Sr. Catherine Junkin who lived with Sr. Beata in Long Beach, Mississippi. It took place around 1948-49. The Sisters were so poor they had to buy baby chicks to raise and sell. They came to them one hundred at a time. They kept the chicks in the laundry when the chicks were young. When Mr. Junkin (Sisters Catherine & Mary’s father) heard about this he bought poles and wire for the Sisters so that when the chicks got big enough they could transfer them to the outside chicken yard which Catherine and her brother George built. When the chickens were large enough for eating the Sisters would kill them and sell them to the school lunch program. This income helped them to buy essentials for daily life. Eventually the chicken coop was upgraded to also have a concrete floor. This project Catherine did without George’s help.
At this time too, Sr. Beata kept her trunk packed in the attic so when she would be asked to leave all she needed to do was put the new address on it and she was ready to go.
Sisters Elizabeth Merkel and Beata would periodically make their four A.M. morning meditation sitting on the sea wall as the sun came up.
One incident I’ll never forget was the time when: “We went to collect cow manure on a nearby cattle farm. There were four of us. The manure was for plant fertilizer around our house and school. As we collected in one of the fields, a bull decided he didn’t like us there and came after us. I got caught in the barbed wire trying to escape and tore my habit. We did however fill up our bus (it seated about 13 Daughters) with manure and then one of the Daughters pulled out our supper – peanut butter sandwiches. We all laughed, but were hungry enough to eat our “brown” sandwiches in the midst of a busload of “brown” manure. As principal, she often cleaned up after kids who had “accidents”. I remember once when a child soiled his pants, she put the child in her private office, tool the soiled clothes home to the convent and washed and ironed them, thus preventing embarrassment to the child.”
This was written by Sister Christina herself
Date of origin – September 1, 1976
Sr. Christina Keethers worked in the Near South Side of the city of St. Louis. She was connected with the services of Guardian Angel Settlement and St. Vincent Parish. She writes the following concerning her ministry.
“Reason for initial involvement was the great need of the poor white elderly. Most of the black elderly were comfortably situated in public housing in this area, while the poor whites had to struggle in inadequate housing and high utility bills, etc.
“At that time I was the only sister involved. Full Achievement (St. Louis University students) gave some time after school hours. They started their work at about the same time, as they asked me for some names of elderly they could visit.
Soulard Center was also just beginning to be interested on a small scale. Their headquarters was Sts. Peter and Paul School. Since then they purchased and renovated one of the old buildings at 2021 Menard to serve their needs. They now serve congregate meals and also some home-delivered meals, and also offer other services such as to relocate many of the elderly into subsidized housing (rent which they can afford to pay).
I’ll try to give a brief description of the services I am engaged in. I first visited the elderly in order to gain their confidence. Some have died, some are in nursing homes, some others have moved out of the area. During the past year, I have visited 130 elderly. Those most in need are visited more frequently. Some need help with Social Security or S.S.I., food stamps, home makers, transportation, etc., etc. Some never leave their home and are lonely. For this reason I am trying to provide outings, etc. I also attend area meetings to keep up with legislation.
Our Thrift Shop is also a busy place. During the past year I have given $1,500 worth of free clothing. I have five volunteers helping with my project and others help during times, as rummage sales, outings, etc. Guardian Angel Settlement has always helped people and families who come to the Agency for help and also follow up on the families, but there was no one to go out to seek the elderly who live in the rear of many buildings. In the future there will be many living in subsidized housing.
The aged being visited live in the area within the boundaries between 7th St. and Jefferson (East and West) and between Park St. and Barton St. (North and South) I have not gone beyond 20th St. to the West. (Sr. Christina usually walked to do her ministry)
Sister Kathy Overmann is doing a wonderful job doing Home Health care for some the shut-ins. Glad to have her.
I also help some, in the black area with shopping trips, clubs, etc. also if there is an emergency.”
The following is from an article that was written by Peter Hernon from the St. Louis Globe Democrat, Saturday – Sunday, April 30 – May 1, 1983
It is hard to pull the wool over the aging but clear eyes of Sister Christina Keethers, D.C.
When an elderly woman living alone in a cluttered apartment in Soulard joyfully tells her the sunny fantasy that she had a job offer in California the sister knows better. She knows better when the drunks come to the hall at St. Vincent’s Church for a free meal and try to fake sobriety. She’s heard all the stories, the hard luck tales, and con jobs. The sister knows the score.
For many of the poor, elderly and sick living in the Soulard and La Salle Park area on the city’s Near South Side, Sister Christina’s soft voice carries the clout of authority.
At the age of 82, the sister can walk a much younger man to shame. She has the slightly stooped gait and all the resiliency of a Sherpa. (A Sherpa is a member of a Tibetan people living in northern Nepal. They are guides for people ascending and descending the mountains.)
For the last 20 years Sister Christina one of St. Vincent’s street sisters, has worked with the hardest of the hard luck cases. She has helped the mentally handicapped, the elderly, the sick and crippled, the despondent, and always, always the impoverished. She has stared with unflinching eyes at the unseemly; by her own choice she prefers to walk on the dark side of the street.
As might be expected, the sister doesn’t like to talk about herself. She would much prefer attention be focused on “all the others” in her order, who have followed their founder’s directives, often at great risk to their lives.
In an age when it’s wise to look the other way, not to stick your neck out, not to get involved, she follows a decidedly different beat.
by David McLemore, San Antonio Bureau of The News, The Dallas Morning News, February 20, 1985
SAN ANTONIO – It’s nothing more than a water faucet, brassy and new, shining in the sun in Sophia Flores’ side yard. But Mrs. Flores, 78, knows a miracle when she sees one. “The day the water came was a good day.” Mrs. Flores said. “For in this life, you need water and money to live. And now, at least, I have water.”
Two months ago, Mrs. Flores and the other residents of Losoya and Buena Vista, two unincorporated communities resting in the shadow of San Antonio’s high-tech dreams, finally entered the 20th century.
On Dec. 15, fresh, clean water ran through the pipes to hard-scrabble homes via a water system the communities had sought for nearly 20 years. With the water, there came a renaissance of hope for Losoya and Buena Vista.
“This is a forgotten area, a part of Bexar County that people didn’t know still existed.” said Sister Grace Berger. “At first, it seemed impossible to get running water to these people. But we went after the impossible. And we got it.”
Many homes have no electricity. About one-third have no indoor toilets, and many of those don’t function. Almost every home has an outhouse in the back. Without a system of running water, there were no sewers, no septic tanks and no toilets. Water wells are fouled with minerals.
For cleaning water, residents set up cisterns to catch rainwater. They bought their drinking waster from a San Antonio gasoline service station; bringing it home in 55-gallon barrels.
“We’re not talking about some Third World nation,” Sister Grace said, “These are U.S. citizens who lived without a basic of American life. They had no ready access to water to cook, bathe, and clean. They’ve just been left out of the picture.”
“Oh, the county government, the agencies and the Water Board all agonized about it and said how deplorable it was,” Sister Grace said. “Then they went back to their nice homes in the city at night.”
“There was great lack of sophistication in the residents’ dealings with the government agencies,” Sister Grace said. “They had great faith that good will was enough, when in fact, it meant nothing.”
Then, seven years ago, Sister Grace arrived at El Carmen. She couldn’t believe that the community had never had a water system. “There, only miles from a major American city, people still had to bathe in the kitchen with water dragged in by bucket,” she said. She helped the communities form a non-profit organization to obtain a water system. The residents, about half unable to read or write, devised their own by-laws.
“We began hounding city and county officials. We began learning the art of grantsmanship,” Sister Grace said, “The men of the community literally went from house to house, gathering the kind of information the bureaucrats wanted. And we waited.”
In 1977 their luck began to change, the South Side School District received a special federal grant to run water lines to the two schools serving the communities. Then, two years later, the Equal Opportunities Development Corp. gave the residents a $90,000 grant to extend the water line nearly a mile and build two dispensing stations.
“The residents no longer had to drive into San Antonio and buy water,” Sister Grace said. “Now, they could bring their barrels to the stations for water.”
Sister Grace and the residents continued their struggle to get the water piped to the houses. They held barbeques and bake sales to raise money. But they were still far from obtaining the $255,000 needed.
In 1982, Sister Grace’s superiors at the Daughters of Charity in St. Louis heard about the need. They donated $165,000 from a fund earmarked exclusively for the poor. Suddenly, the dream became a reality. Following a delay of nearly three years in drawing up plans and actually building the system, the communities of Losoya and Buena Vista dedicated their new water system Dec. 15.
“The work has just begun,” Sister Grace said. “They still have to build septic tanks and add on rooms for toilets and kitchen sinks."
Article from The Austin American-Statesma (no date available)
A slender, smiling nun in the dull blue robe and soaring white cap of a Sister of Charity, Tuesday was named Austin’s Most Worthy Citizen for the year 1961.
Sister Philomena, who will celebrate her 30th anniversary as dietitian at Seton Hospital on Sunday, is probably the least publicized citizen ever to be given the coveted annual award of the Austin Real Estate Board. (AREB)
Yet her name is a byword in the poorest streets in Austin; she is mentioned in prayer daily in the neediest homes of the city.
For if a hovel burns …if a child is sick…if a father of 10 will tell another; “See Sister Philomena; she’ll help.”
It was she who organized the Ladies of Charity, the oldest voluntary charity group in Austin. It is she who maintains the little room at the rear of Seton Hospital, where a mother can ask for groceries or blankets for her children; or a child can ask for glasses.
With the aid of the Ladies, she also operates St. Vincent’s de Paul Shop on East Sixth, where usable clothing and necessities are sold for a pittance. The pittance goes to provide more free help for the really destitute.
In her own time, day and night, Sister Philomena visits the sick, the needy, and the weary old people in rest homes, according to the AREB citation. She finds housing, and jobs for the jobless. She pays for medicine and utilities for those who can’t pay.
She is on call 24 hours a day, for those who need her guidance or the material help she can offer.
“Her charity is unlimited,” wrote one enthusiastic booster. “She is truly an Angel of Mercy.”
Sister Philomena was chosen for the award from among 22 nominees. Dozens of letters came from people she has helped; from those who work with her; from prominent women who have seen her in action.
She will be honored in a public banquet, where Mrs. Alden Davis, last year’s winner, will present her with the Most Worthy Citizen plaque, on Friday, Feb. 16.
On October 12, 1973, Sister Philomena Feltz during Founder’s Day ceremonies at St. Edwards’s University, Austin, Texas received the Coronat Medal. The medal inscribed with the Latin phrase, “Vita Disciplinam Coronat,” – “Life is the crown of one’s training,” is an award in recognition of Sister’s significant community service to Austin. The presentation was made at an interfaith Prayer Service.
Seton Today - October, November, December 1979
Her life has been one of service to her community, to Austin, to Seton and to all people. This is perhaps why it was so fitting that Sister Philomena Feltz was remembered by so many on the celebration of her Golden Jubilee, on November 18.
Several hundred Austinites attended a special Mass at St. Austin’s Church and then filled the Reception Hall afterward. President Jimmy Carter sent a congratulatory letter and Mayor Carole McClellan proclaimed “Sister Philomena Week” in Austin.
Sister Philomena started work at the old Seton on February 4, 1932 as the Director of Dietary. Seton Hospital was a 90-bed hospital at that time although one wing was closed due to the Depression. Austin was only a fraction of the size it is today.
In 1932, the Great Depression hit Austin hard and Sister Philomena knew many people had no money to buy food for themselves or their families. She started her now famous soup line which stretched behind the kitchen. “We used to feed anywhere from 8 to 30 families everyday,” she said. “We always had bread to go along with the soup and Sister Basil (Administrator at that time) had a room built out behind the kitchen for me to put groceries in. If we had no soup, then we used to give them groceries,” she explained.
She would get the names and addresses of the poor and then one of the Sisters and a member of the Ladies of Charity would visit the house and take more groceries and food to the families.
Special memories of Sister Philomena from her career at Seton include the funding of the first Seton Auxiliary in 1950 and President Johnson’s visit to the hospital in the mid-1960’s to see his grandchild and daughter. “Secret Service men were everywhere in the hospital, even on the roof,” she said.
In 1961, the Board of Realtors named Sister Philomena Austin’s Most Worthy Citizen and in 1973, she received the Corona Medal from St. Edward’s University.
When the move was made to the new Seton in 1975, Sister Philomena came too, but not as Director of Dietary. After 42 years in the kitchen, Sister Philomena undertook a new job – that of Pastoral Associate. About the switch, she says with a twinkle in her eyes, “I wasn’t getting any younger and I enjoy visiting the patients so I was fortunate to move into Pastoral Care.”
“When we found out we were getting a new hospital, we were so excited,” she said, “Even the patients were excited.” Leaving the old hospital behind with its memories was not easy, Sister Philomena said; however, the new Seton has become home now.
Her day starts promptly at 5:45 a.m., something she learned growing up on a farm with five brothers and four sisters in Missouri. “It was a struggle and we all had to help,” she said. The children had to walk five miles to school, which was run by the Daughters of Charity. The school is still open today. “I was very impressed with the Sisters and felt like this (becoming a Sister) was my calling from God,” Sister Philomena said.
She arrives in the Chapel at 6:30 a.m. for an hour’s meditation before she is joined by the other Sisters for Vocal Prayers. She is at the hospital by 8 a.m. visiting patients and tending to the Chapel among other duties. After dinner with the other Sisters, and Night Prayers, Sister Philomena is not a television watcher. “I am not a TV fan,” she admits, “I can’t find the time.”
She rarely goes anywhere in Austin without someone recognizing her. “The other Sisters kid me about it sometimes,” she said. “Many times we don’t realize how many peoples’ lives we actually touch.”
As for the future of this very special Sister, she says with a smile, “I hope to continue as long as I am able. If I am not in Pastoral Care, I would ask to work in the kitchen at Marywood (adoption agency) in the mornings preparing food for the girls and then work with the Ladies of Charity in the afternoon. I would rather wear out than rust out.”
On September 1, 2004 it was announced in the American-Statesman newspaper that Austin’s street names will reflect Austin’s history by naming streets after musicians, military heroes, civic leaders, etc. Sr. Philomena Feltz was one of these to be so honored.
The article states: “Philomena Street, which will wind by the new Children’s Medical Center of Texas, honors Sister Philomena Feltz, who ran the kitchen at the Seton Infirmary and helped run soup kitchens for Austin residents during the Great Depression.”
The first four Sisters left the USA in 1954. Sisters Baptista Casper and Angela Sheehan were nurses, Sisters Mary Moran and Mary Patrick Collins were teachers. Sr. Mary was Sister Servant and directed the works of the Daughters. Japan is divided into regions called prefectures. After the war, the work of the Church was entrusted to a different order of religious men, e.g., the Jesuits were in Tokyo, the Oblates were Kyoto. The Wakayama Prefecture was entrusted to the Irish Columban Fathers. It was a Columban priest, Rev. Authur Friel, who recognized the need for sisters to work with physically handicapped children in the Wakayama Prefecture. Fr. Friel went to our Superioress General in Paris and presented his request for Daughters of Charity. It was our Superioress General who made the decision to ask the St. Louis Province to send sisters to Japan. In Maiko, a suburb of Kobe, there was an established mission of French Daughters who had been expelled from China.
While they attended language school, the four Sisters from the St. Louis Province stayed in Kyoto for two years with the Sisters of St. Joseph of Witchita, KS. In 1956 when the Sisters moved to their new home in Wakayama, they brought with them one of the teachers from the school so that they could continue their study of the Japanese language.
In 1956 Sisters Michael Sibille, a nurse, and Loretto Gettemeier, a teacher, were missioned to the newly opened house in Wakayama. The two left San Francisco by freighter accompanied by Sr. Loretto Ryan, the Assistant of the St. Louis Province. A freighter was allowed to have 11 passengers. The makeup of the passenger list included one Korean woman, three Daughters of Charity, and seven newly ordained Irish Columban priests who were bound for Korea. Since we left San Francisco on November 1, there was great anticipation we would be celebrating twenty-one Masses the next day, All Souls Day. Alas, there were no Masses because everyone was seasick. Everyone, that is, except Sr. Michael and the Captain, who showed up in the dining room for every meal. For seventeen of the nineteen days at sea the ship rocked from side to side with waves coming over the top of the ship on one side only to come over the ship on the other side a few minutes later. On day nineteen when the ship entered port in Yokohama, we were happy to see our welcoming committee consisting of Sisters Mary and Baptista.
Before the hospital for physically handicapped children was built, the sisters made themselves and their mission to serve the poor known by going into the public hospitals and giving baths to patients. Ordinarily, this task was done by a family member who also cooked and did the laundry of the patient. The family member stayed in the hospital and slept on a straw mat on the floor next to the patient’s bed. The Sisters gave baths to patients who had no family to do this for them. Just as our first Sisters carried the soup pots through the streets of Paris, the Sisters in Wakayama loaded the red jeep with huge kettles of steaming hot water, pans, towels and soap and traveled the roads of the city. Nurses in the hospital directed the Sisters to the patients who needed them. Every now and then, the nurse came out into the hall and shouted, “Take your temperature!” The patient or family member took the temperature and gave it to the nurse who duly recorded it as she made her rounds. The nurse’s primary duty was to assist the doctor, not to care for the patient.
It was a cultural reality that for the parents of crippled children it was a family disgrace to have a crippled child. Because of this, the family hid the child at home. The child was loved, but the family lost face because they had a less than a perfect child. Therefore, physically handicapped children did not receive treatment, therapy, education or have social interaction with other children. Generally, parents were pleased when they heard that there was to be a hospital for crippled children in Wakayama. The Columban priests who worked in the mountain parishes were helpful in spreading the word and in encouraging parents to send their child for treatment to this new hospital. This meant living in the hospital for months, sometimes years.
Sister Baptista Casper was the first administrator of Seishien, “Garden of Love”, the name of the hospital. She worked with Japanese doctors who accepted her and her direction because she was a “foreign woman” and they knew this was the way of foreigners. (Sr. Baptista was also very capable.) Our young Japanese sisters were trained to be nurses, therapists and aides in the hospital. Sr. Baptista took one young Japanese Sister under her wing and trained her so that the Sister could assist Sr. Baptista and eventually administer the hospital. However, the Japanese doctors didn’t take to a Japanese woman giving them directions and promptly let her know so. “You are Japanese and you speak as a Japanese woman should speak to a man.” However, to this day, that Japanese Sister is administrator of Seishien.
Since the crippled children lived at the hospital, the Sisters tried to make sure that Japanese customs were lived just as they would be in their own home. The food was Japanese. One of the Sisters was a dietician. Arrangements were made with the educational system so that public school teachers came to the hospital and the children could go to class each day. A first for many! There was a common bath just as there would be in the neighborhood or in the home if the family were wealthy. The children were washed down in an area outside the bath and then they stepped into a huge pool-like bath where the water was steaming hot. There was a TV for entertainment just as there is in the neighborhood bath. Seeing each other or their parents without clothing is a normal part of the culture and no one thought anything of it.
In our own house we “strange” Americans insisted on bathing alone even though we had a Japanese-style bath. The Japanese Sisters accepted this one of our odd customs even though they thought it would be must faster if everyone could bathe at the same time.
Sister Hilary Ross came to Japan on her 66th birthday. She was renowned for her work with patients with Hansen’s disease, but had to retire from Carville. Sr. Hilary said she had a lot more life to give for the poor and requested to go to Japan. When she was refused at the provincial level, Sr. Hilary went to Most Honored Mother and petitioned to be missioned to Wakayama. She was heard and was missioned. Sister worked in the pharmacy at the crippled children’s hospital and loved and was loved by the children and staff who considered her “the old Grandma”. The difficulty of the Japanese language didn’t daunt Sister as she became adept at using one word for anything positive and another for anything negative. Others also became adept at understanding what the positive and negative meant. Doctors from all over the world came to Wakayama to confer with her about her research on Hansen’s disease. On one occasion Sister Hilary was flown to Washington to receive the prestigious Damian-Dutton Award. Sr. Hilary remained in Japan until her death.
Sister Hilary Ross won world renown as a pioneer scientist in the fight against leprosy (Now recognized and known as Hansen’s Disease). But at 66 she wasn’t finished-she went to the missions!
Fr. Flinn:You’ve had an extraordinary life, Sister Hilary. How did it all begin?
Sr. Hilary:When I was born, I guess. My father came from Sweden and my mother from Finland around 1888 and all us seven children were born in Berkeley, California. In 1905 my father, a seafaring man, was drowned in San Francisco Bay. Less than six months later, we lost all our possessions in the San Francisco earthquake. That was a frightening experience. We lived in emergency shelters until, with the insurance money, Mother was able to buy a house in Berkeley. My older brother, 15, and mother went to work and when I finished eighth grade I did too.
Fr. Flinn: What religion were you then?
Sr. Hilary: You might say I was an ecumenical Christian. You see my mother was Lutheran, and we all went to Sunday school, but shortly after my father’s death we were all baptized Episcopalians because that was the nearest church. I also was often with the Salvation Army on Kearney Street in San Francisco, passing around the tambourine to collect money. But while working I frequently attended Mass at old St. Patrick’s on Mission Street with a girl from the shop. I was 19 years old when I was conditionally baptized at St. Mary’s Hospital and made my First Holy Communion.
Fr. Flinn: Did your folks mind?
Sr. Hilary:My mother was quite upset and my brothers made fun of me. Mother even turned to serving meat on Fridays for a while.
Fr. Flinn:When did you join the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul?
Sr. Hilary:Just two years after I became a Catholic. My mother was really lovely about that, although she did not want me to go. I took up nursing, and I’ll never forget the 1918 influenza pandemic. Our hospital, St. Mary’s in Milwaukee, was very crowded and many people died.
After that I had my tonsils removed and later a radical mastoid operation. A slight facial paralysis resulted. Two more operations to remove diseased bone followed. I then got typhoid fever, complicated later with pneumonia; I really haven’t had what you might call a well day since. My headaches date from that time too.
Fr Flinn: But that was 55 years ago!
Sr. Hilary: One learns to live with one’s ailments. Because of my marked facial paralysis; it’s cleared up considerably since; I was taken from the nursing division and sent to study pharmacy. And as a pharmacist I ended up in Carville, Louisiana, at the National Leprosarium.
Fr. Flinn:Leprosy scares me. How did you feel about it?
Sr. Hilary:You’re like a lot of people I know. I had no fear going to Carville. I just had a job to do – and I had to give God the best of what I had. He’s always been my boss, you know.
Fr. Flinn: You spent 37 years there as a pharmacist and later as a biochemist. You hounded those microscopic organisms with amazing curiosity and perseverance until you found solutions that would make you world-renowned for your work to help leprosy victims. Your scientific work, backed up by your brilliant photography studies, has won you many awards. You are an international figure!
Sr. Hilary:That’s all a lot of bosh, Father. I just did my job as well as I could. And there were a lot of other good Sisters and people doing much better than I. God just wanted it that way. All my life I’ve just wanted to do His work well.
Fr. Flinn:How did you come to end up in Japan?
Sr. Hilary:When I attended the International Congress on Leprology in Tokyo in 1958, I visited our Sisters in Wakayama. They were just planning a rehabilitation center for crippled children. I was much impressed by the Japanese people and the country and since retirement from the United States Public Health Service was impending, I felt that even at the age of 66 I could fill in some of the gaps needed to establish the center, so I volunteered.
Fr. Flinn:Did you find the break hard when you came here in 1960?
Sr. Hilary:I sure did. And the terrible typhoon we experienced on the trip over didn’t help. But the language-Wow! It’s just got to be experienced to be believed. I really love Japan and its people, and the children are precious. But this language…I get by, but how!
Fr. Flinn:Is there any other thing that you have particularly noticed?
Sr. Hilary:Of course, the faith. In Carville there was a high percentage of Christians among the 400 patients. But here we are in a completely different atmosphere. God is not a part of the conscious living--it is disturbing. The spiritual side of my life as a religious has really come home in me here. So few people in Japan know God. But God knows them all right. We just have to keep trying to help them find Him.
Fr. Flinn:If your paralysis had not occurred you might never have entered pharmacy; if your continued ill-health over 55 years had not persisted you might never have stayed put and relentlessly chased those little wogs all over those microscope slides. Thanks to your research on sulfone drugs and the effect of the bacillus on human organs you have opened the leprosarium door for so many.
Sr. Hilary: I just did my job. Now you take Father Damien of Molakai. He’s the real hero in the fight against leprosy. I’ll have a lot to tell him when we meet in heaven!