Hurricane Katrina landed on the Gulf Coast on August 29, 2005. It was the most damaging storm to hit the United States in our time. New Orleans area residents also suffered from floodwaters caused by breached levees along the Mississippi River and canals connected to Lake Ponchartrain. People across the country responded to this disaster in many ways. As a month or two passed, the plight of the victims of this tragedy preyed on our minds, so we decided to see if our time and life experience could be put to use. We contacted the Greater Cleveland American Red Cross Chapter and were soon taking various Disaster Relief classes.

We were deployed to Baton Rouge, LA on November 30th, for a three week stay. In Baton Rouge we were given an assignment with client services where Rose made phone calls following up on applications clients made to the Red Cross for financial assistance and Duane talked to clients and did home visits to assess damage and worked with the appeals process.

Our headquarters was a former Wal–Mart building in a strip mall where the relief operation for the Gulf Coast hurricanes Katrina and Rita was based. Red Cross Assistance for Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama were based there. Volunteers were processed, given their assignments, oriented, trained, housed, worked and dispatched from this building. Large areas were created for data input into the Red Cross Client Assistance System (CAS), computerizing information on damage to victim’s homes and the level of assistance needed or received. Duane also inspected damage to clients’ homes using his Realtor home inspection skills.

At this particular location, there was little need for nurses so Rose made screening calls and talked by phone to many people whom had lost their homes or had been displaced by the storm. This was our assignment for the first four days.

We were transferred to New Orleans where Duane continued working with clients by phone and with home visits trying to get assistance to those who still needed it and culling out potential scammers. Rose was assigned to provide Staff Health service to Red Cross volunteers. Her day consisted of traveling to the kitchens, warehouse, and loading area where hot food was prepared by the Southern Baptist Convention volunteers, supported by Red Cross volunteers. The operation was located in the parking lot of a Baptist church. The kitchen was a huge semi truck, with expandable sides. Bathtub size stoves were used to cook the meals, which consisted of a meat, starch, and vegetable.

The Baptist volunteers stayed in the church and the ARC volunteers were “sheltered” in motels and shuttled to their work place. Between both groups there were 70–90 volunteers to care for. The health care issues ranged from sinus or asthma problems from the contaminated ground or molds; falls involving broken bones, hypertensive blood pressure problems, heart arrhythmia, and muscle strains. If the problems were beyond her scope, she transported them to the doctor or available hospital.

We worked 8:00 am to 5:00 pm six days a week. We were very fortunate to be housed in a hotel directly across from the infamous New Orleans Convention Center, where we had the luxury of a bed and shower. On our days off we toured some of the most devastated neighborhoods imaginable. Many were reduced to nothing but rubble. Homes were lifted off their foundation, crushed by the wind and water, and floated into the streets. In the Ninth ward a barge still sat atop crushed houses, having floated over the damaged levee of the Industrial Canal.

At Bay St. Louis, MS, where the hard side of Katrina hit, a 30–foot storm surge took out the first row of buildings and half of Main Street which was parallel to the beach. This community was 25 feet above sea level and had survived many previous hurricanes. The roadway of the US 90 bridge to Biloxi, which ran across the mouth of the bay, was destroyed by the storm surge. The parallel railroad bridge was also destroyed but is nearly rebuilt while no work is evident on the publicly owned highway bridge. No stores or restaurants were open. The houses were moved off their foundations and uprooted trees lay across lawns and across crushed and broken houses. Only the huge and durable live oak trees remain.

The economy of the area suffered greatly. The presence of Red Cross and other volunteers, FEMA workers and contract security services are the backbone of the economy at this time. Souvenir shops are open. Some of the factories like Domino Sugar were back to work. Also, activity was returning at the shipyards, the Port of New Orleans, chemical plants and refineries. Many returned workers were housed in FEMA trailers set up in the parking lots. It’s hard to describe such wide spread destruction. We drove for miles and miles past blue roofed (FEMA tarp) houses and ghost town neighborhoods.

One day Rose went out with the ERV (Emergency Recovery Vehicle) to bring hot food to people in the neighborhoods. Most of the roads were open but piles of furnishings and moldy plaster lined the tree lawns. The people still had no electric and were grateful for the food, water, blankets and snacks we gave them. The trucks would carry large insulated containers (Cambros) filled with food that was prepared at the kitchens. They would drive slowly down the neighborhood streets blowing the horn and announcing “hot food.” People would come out of their houses and line up at the window to be served. Most were still working on their homes and had not moved in yet. Many were still without electricity. Some had campers or FEMA trailers in their driveways or yards and were living in them while they worked on their homes.

We love how Serendipity plays in our lives. The night before we were to leave for Baton Rouge, we called Gene Kramer, a member of our Community of St. Malachi. We were to have a committee meeting at his house and we were getting behind on packing and saying goodbye to our family. We had forty–eight hours notice to make our travel plans, pack, and go. When we told Gene where we were going he said he had a nephew in Baton Rouge who would be happy to hear from us. He gave us his nephew’s cell phone number and we contacted him a couple days after arriving.

Fr. Jerry Kramer lost his church and his home in New Orleans and was living and serving a parish North of Baton Rouge. He directed us to a sister parish in a nearby neighborhood that had recently re–opened. That first Sunday we arrived early and found an elderly woman sweeping the sidewalk in front of the church. We introduced ourselves and asked if there was anything we could do to help. We were immediately put to work setting up tents, carrying the altar out of the church, and setting up folding chairs under the tent where we celebrated liturgy with the combined congregations.

The big news was that the Bishop of Louisiana would be there the next Sunday to celebrate liturgy inside the church. Cleaning would be complete and the church could be used again, even with an 18–inch watermark on the pews. We returned the next Sunday to share this wonderful occasion. A large tent was set up in front of the church again but this time we helped set up refreshments for the grateful congregation. It was a joyous celebration with drums and song and tears.

By the third Sunday we felt like old friends. We participated in bringing up the gifts and knew many by name. We felt such a kinship to the parish and the likeness to our beloved Community of St. Malachi. As the liturgy was celebrated we felt the presence of those at home lending encouragement and support. We are so thankful to our friends and family.

It’s hard to imagine the long–term effects of Katrina. We spoke to many people who aren’t sure they’ll return for good. Many have families who have already relocated in other cities and states. Some remain in New Orleans to work only while their employer or FEMA provides their housing. Two cruise ships remain in the Mississippi River housing law enforcement personnel. Police cars are parked randomly around the city to deter crime. National Guard and military Reserves, supplementing NOPD patrol the streets. While levee repair is proceeding with massive federal aid, hurricane season is only six months away. Many are concerned there will not be enough time to rebuild the levees to pre–Katrina status before the next storm season. The bad news is Katrina has now been re–classified to a high Category Three storm, rather that a Category Five.

Many volunteers are themselves feeling the effects of such a massive disaster even while providing service. They have left families and loved ones far away and have signed up for long periods of time. They also need our continued prayers and support.

To end on a positive note, the Garden District and the French Quarter look good. Many restaurants and bars are open after three inspections from the health department. We noted increased tourist traffic each Sunday. The tone in the media is mostly positive. Only one public school re–opened while we were there while eight Catholic and several Charter Schools opened. It will be interesting to return in a few years to see the progress.

St. Malachi Center is a place where Christmas is kept very well. I am sure that is true of many places, but I am particularly struck by the Center’s celebrations. I was touched by the sheer number of activities (11 total!). There was a Tree–trimming party, a Christmas lunch for the Women in Friendship, an After School Program Celebration, Posadas, an evening of Christmas Caroling, a Boutique for children to shop for their parents, a Pot Luck dinner, a Santa’s Workshop for parents to shop for their children, a breakfast for Shower and Soup and God participants, a Lock–in for teens, and some Center families were adopted in the Adopt–a–Family program.

There were different ways to pray. There was the singing of Christmas Carols in Church, in the hall, at the Center, and outside, a different grace before each meal shared, the lighting of the Advent Wreath, and Posadas, Gospels were read, and original poetry was written and shared.

Food included cookies, juice, Puerto Rican dishes, other Latino dishes, comfort foods, vegetables, soups, cakes, soda pop, Chinese, lasagna, turkey, French toast, scrambled eggs, sausage, fruit cups, coffee, and deli trays. Those who prepared the meals included St. Malachi Center volunteers from the Center’s participants, the Parish, the Community, others who have made one or more of these events Christmas traditions in their families, and restaurants.

There were over 60 deliveries of prepared food, food to prepare, hats, mittens, stuffed animals, other toys, blankets, duffle bags, socks, underwear, toiletries, children’s tops, pants, skirts, and outfits, gently used items for the Boutique. One delivery of toys came by school bus, complete with the students whose families bought and donated toys for the Center’s children.

There were groups of volunteers from public and private middle and high schools, Church, civic, ethnic–heritage associations, restaurants and other businesses, and from extended families. There were volunteers from the daily programs at the Center and there were volunteers who appear faithfully during this time every year.

As you can imagine, there was much joy and love shared. There were smiling children’s faces, awed and relieved parents, uplifted donors and volunteers, and humbled Center staff, grateful to have a place to help Christmas, for donors, volunteers, and those who received, happen.

I am grateful to have witnessed such an outpouring of love to those who are in need here, in our own neighborhood. I could not help but catch some of the joy and the love as it was passing through St. Malachi Center. I believe the essence of God is love, as Jesus taught. And I believe I am very fortunate to have seen God’s grace in action this Christmas Season. I was happy to witness Christ embracing his family. How good it is to spend time in a place that provides space for Love in action. The hope is the Center, with the help of the generous hearts of donors and volunteers, continues to be a space where that Christmas Spirit can be experienced every day of this coming year. It is only through combining generous hearts with the space the Center offers that the Christmas Spirit can be experienced in the daily activities of the Center: Showers, After School Program, Teen Sense, Awesome Activities, Women and Sewing, Women in Friendship, Soup and God, Clothing Ministry, Family Activity Night, and the newest program, Partners for Progress.

“And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’” (Matthew 25:40)

I would like to bring the Community up–to–date on activities since the October men’s retreat. I wanted to share this with everyone, in particular with the many women of the Community who were praying for us before, during and after the retreat.

The Sunday immediately after the retreat the men offered the gift of a song to the Community at the 11:00 am mass.

In November, twelve men met at Sara’s Circle in Lakewood on Madison Ave for an evening of Dances of Universal Peace, small group sharing, and discussion about forming men’s sharing groups that might meet bi–weekly. The evening felt like the twelve apostles meeting to discuss what to do next. It truly was a group of twelve holy men.

Also, on three separate Saturday mornings, various men from the retreat have met for breakfast. It was different guys each time, from four to eight men at a time. In all cases I felt that men desired to grow as holy men hoping to bring life to all we live with. At the last breakfast, gathering there was eight of us, ages ranging from college–age to senior citizen age. Conversation varied from men’s sexuality to the Ohio State vs. Notre Dame Football game. At this breakfast three of the men set a time and date to meet as a group to discuss starting a men’s sharing group.

As you read this, there are two men’s sharing groups (with men from St.Malachi Parish and Community) that have been meeting, one for 18 months and one for 7 years. Since the retreat, there are two new groups in the early developing stage.

I share all this because I want all those who have taken the time to pray for us men to know your prayers are being answered. I am awed and honored to sit with these men, either in my group or at breakfast, and hear them share their journey through life with God. The Holy Spirit is active and I know that as Jesus sits with us, he is saying “Yes, this is what I came to teach you. Love one another as I love you, and take that love to all those you meet.” Thank you again for supporting our recent men’s retreat.

Of even more value than the gifts themselves, sometimes the memories they produce can be priceless treasures. Recently I was told of a very 21st Century gift received by Kay Eaton, a longtime staffer at the West Side Catholic Center and friend to many Community of St. Malachi members.

This Christmas season she was asked by a young grandson to show him how to make her homemade dinner rolls. The boy’s mother, one of Kay’s 12 offspring, videotaped the lesson and presented Kay with a documentary of the event. This is a gift sure to be treasured by Kay and her family for generations to come.

Kay’s recount of this prompted reflection on a few instances where the thought that counted was pre–eminent. Every family has a collection of such incidents.

When our family moved to Cleveland from Canada, our widowed mother’s five children, ranging in age from nine to 16, pooled both imagination and resources to come up with a Christmas gift for her that was appropriate to our new lifestyle in the States. Our first Christmas in this new, sophisticated, cosmopolitan world had to be marked with a new, sophisticated, cosmopolitan–type present.

Mother should have received an Academy Award for her expressions of gratitude when she found under the tree, adorned with a big, red ribbon, a case of Cleveland–brewed P.O.C.

Oh, the irony here. We had just come from the land of Molson’s and Labatt’s, yet we gave her an inexpensive local brew. (What did we know?) And worse, in all her life, she never even liked beer.

True, the gift is in the eye of the beholder. Once, our father asked the three eldest children to guess what wonderful present had come for us. Ice cream, candy, gum all proved out negative. A baby sister? What kind of a present was that?

Strange adult values also came to light some 18 months later. Dad had been bed–ridden for several months following a heart attack. On his birthday he received two presents: the family doctor came – all smiles – to help him sit up in a chair for a little while, and to tell him that there was a baby son at the hospital with his name and birth date on it. Grown–ups certainly were easily pleased.

And they had disparate values. One otherwise dear aunt invariably came up with underwear pants for everyone at Christmastime – white cotton ones. On the other hand, a priest– uncle was lavish with fresh green dollar bills, one apiece, until we were teenagers. Then, he would acknowledge our maturity with fivers.

Everyone knows of instances when selfless love plays a notable part in the reception of a gift. Some time ago our family had a women’s wear specialty shop. A young couple stopped in to shop for the woman’s Christmas present – a sweater.

Her hair was that rare shade of vivid natural red that is virtually orange – glowing, but nonetheless, orange. It was wonderful with blues and greens, deadly with just about every shade of red, pink or purple––at least in the olden days.

The young man selected a sweater of the color known as fuchsia or magenta – purplish red. Wrong. All wrong. He thought she looked beautiful in it. She beamed with pleasure. He loved it, she loved it; the salesperson hated it.

As the sweater was being wrapped, the young wife whispered to the latter: “Don’t worry about it. We’re going up to the north woods. No one will see me in it but him.”

This perhaps is a variation on the “Gift of the Magi” theme in O. Henry’s classic tale of the young husband who sold his watch to buy a comb for his wife’s hair while she cut off and sold her hair to purchase a watch chain for him.

Closer to that theme is this also–true story. In the mid–1890s, a young husband, injured on the job, was out of work for two months. No workers’ compensation then, no insurance, no income. His wife would scrimp to set aside enough from the little money they had for him to enjoy an occasional beer; he would refuse to spend the money on himself.

One day, during a walk in the park with their infant –– the first of 10 – she pointed out a quarter lying in the grass. Since it was “found money,” she insisted he use it to buy himself that beer. At last he gave in.

Nearly 35 years later, at the time of the husband’s funeral, the parish priest told the wife that her secret had been no secret, after all. With deep love, her husband had confided the story to the priest. He knew all along where the quarter had come from. When my grandfather picked up that coin, he found it still warm from having been clutched in my grandmother’s hand.

May our task in life be to enlighten an otherwise darkened and threatened world.

May we be the light that enlightens and also arms an otherwise cold and unloved earth.

May we in family, religious groups, and business, dispel hatred with love, heal injury with pardon, conquer doubt through faith, fight off despair with hope, bring joy to saddened lives, and eliminate poverty by sharing our abundance.

May there be reconciliation wherever there is alienation.

May there be inner freedom where there is enslaving addiction.

May there be support where there is neglect.

May we offer acceptance where there is rejection.

May we leave the darkness of just existing to come to responsible living.

May we move from aimlessness to purpose, from living for oneself to life for others, from terror of threatening war to the calm of inviting dialogue.

May a fanatical will not obscure the light of reason.

May uncontrolled moral strength not over compensate for the mind’s ambiguities.

May sweet pieties not be an exchange for demanding research.

May self–righteousness not be concealed under a pile of quotations from sacred books not subjected to cultural and historical criticism.

Yes, it is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness.

May we become candles that burn from within enlightened and compassionate hearts, and shed the warmth of love to all who are children of the same gracious God.

Amen.