Hearts United: On the Road to Fianarantsoa

After the journey from Mandritsara, I had a day to rest and recover at the junior seminary. It was a joy to spend time with the young seminarians and to pray the office with them. I had fun trying to use a few words of Malagasy, and I think they had fun trying to use some of the English they had learned at the seminary. I tried to give them a few words of encouragement, “I know the seminary is long, but try to enjoy your time in formation. Keep a strong prayer life, and God will take care of the rest. If God wants you to be a priest, don’t worry, you will be a priest!”

I spent Sunday and Monday with Fr. Franklin, a Malagasy priest who studied at MEP in Paris and is now a formator at the seminary. He showed me some of the projects of the diocese: a mango grove that supports the seminary, a clinic run by sisters for the poor in the area, and churches built by MEP priests.

Bishop George, MEP and Fr. Andrew, MEP

After our time together, I was back on the road, this time with Bishop George, MEP, the bishop of Mandritsara. He was traveling to the diocese of Fianarantsoa for the installation of a new bishop. Fianarantsoa is on the high plateau of south-central Madagascar. It is one of the areas reached by the first missionaries, and a region where the faith has really taken hold. Our journey together would take four days. Roads and transportation in Madagascar simply take time. But by now, I had learned it is better to simply sit back and just enjoy the journey.

On our way out of town, we stopped in Ankiririka to celebrate the feast of the Immaculate Conception at a school founded by the Daughters of the Heart of Mary. The school teaches children who have never been to school how to read and write. It is a two-year program for students ranging from about eight years old to their late teens. Their parents agree to send them during the day; in return, the school teaches them and provides a meal before they return home in the evening. The students come from very poor backgrounds, and many have spent their lives working for their families.

We were welcomed by a radiant group of sisters and by the students, ready and waiting for Mass. Each wore a clean uniform and greeted us with smiles. The Mass began with the students singing in Malagasy. Their voices rose into the open air as we entered into the liturgy. As we approached the Gospel, everyone stood for the Alleluia, the Gospel acclamation. During the singing, one girl began to sway slightly. Suddenly, her expression went blank, and she collapsed. A sister saw her, and caught her just before she fell. She picked her up, cradled her in her arms, and carried her unconscious to the convent. My heart sank, as I knew the likely cause.

It wasn't the first time in my life that I've seen a hungry child, and I know it won’t be the last. It cuts deep to see a child so young, so innocent, pass out from hunger. I later asked one of the sisters about it, and she told me that they do their best to ensure the parents give the children something to eat before sending them to school. However, because their home situations are so precarious, the lunch they receive at school is sometimes the only meal they have all day. The sisters can only provide them with 1 meal, which is already quite a bit since the students pay no school fees.

It is a hard thing to witness, especially during the celebration of the Holy Mass. My consolation, and I hope theirs as well, is that Christ came for all people, but the poor hold a special place in his heart: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, Because He anointed Me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent Me to proclaim release to captives, And recovery of sight to the blind, To set free those who are oppressed, To proclaim the favorable year of the Lord.” – Luke 4:18–19.

The Daughters of the Heart of Mary, carry out this work in a beautiful way. They provide physical nourishment as best they can, and they teach the students so that they may one day escape the cycle of poverty. At the same time, they don't neglect their spiritual nourishment, especially here during the Mass, “For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him...This is the bread which came down from heaven, not such as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live forever.” – John 6: 55,58

The sister and the young girl returned, hand in hand, just before the consecration. As I offered the Eucharist, I asked Christ to unite his heart to her's in a special way, that he might fill her with strength and hope. As the Body of Christ was lifted, I lifted our hearts, united, to God the Father.

Ankiririka, the school of the the Daughters of the Heart of Mary

After lunch, we continued on the road. I had time to reflect, to think. Maybe I will find my place here among those in great need? For now, I only know that my first mission is to get to know the MEP priests who are already working here and to learn Malagasy.

We stopped at several more of the bishop’s parishes as we left the area, meeting his priests and catching up on news from their missions. That evening, we stopped on the outskirts of the diocese at Antanimalandy, where Bishop George consecrated a newly built chapel, and we rested for the evening.