A four-year-old breaks with tradition at her mother's cremation, but for a change no one really minds.
By Father Joe Maier, C.Ss.R.
(PLEASE NOTE: We are trying something different this time. You can read the complete text of the story as it appears in Bangkok Post below. Or listen to Fr. Joe tell the story in his own words without a typewriter here. Please enjoy both versions, thank you!)
The sorrow is intense. Maybe it’s the time of day. Maybe it’s the weather — but I don’t think these things matter much. She’s four and a few weeks and we just brought her “home”. In tears.
Even at four, she knows her mum won’t ever pick her up from school again like mum promised. We’d all gathered at the temple for the cremation. Miss Aye was playing outside the sala with her kindergarten chums, when the loud speaker guy announced, “time to begin the ceremonies."
All by herself, she left her friends and walked over and sat down on the bottom step of “the main” — the steps going up to the platform of the crematorium. She’d been told: you cannot join the actively in the cremation of your mum.
Even at four years of age plus some weeks, Miss Aye knew that. Everyone told her that she couldn’t go up the 12 stairs to where the body of her dead mother was. But she couldn’t understand all the fuss and bother, she didn’t quite digest what had happened to mum.
Today we celebrated the Loy Krathong holiday in our 23 kindergartens. According to tradition, we float our Krathongs (small vessels that contain our worries, troubles, sins, etc.) down a river. But since no river flows through our kindergarten playgrounds, we used inflatable plastic pools. Our school children were happy, even without a river. To them it's all magic!
We are pleased to show you a new video about Mercy Centre and our new sister charity Mercy Centre Australia (www.mercycentreaustralia.org) produced by Getaway, Channel 9, Australia. As the video communicates so well, we welcome interested visitors to our Mercy Centre! Please watch it here.
Residents of Australia can see the video on the Getaway channel here.
We are pleased to announce that our foundation's co-founder, Fr. Joe Maier, was named one of three finalists for the annual Opus Prize, a prestigious annual award that “recognizes unsung heroes who, guided by faith and an entrepreneurial spirit, are conquering the world’s most persistent social problems.” (Please see details at www.opusprize.org.)
This year’s prize winner, announced last week at the ceremony in Spokane, Washington, was Sister Tesa Fitzgerald, a Catholic nun based in Queens, New York, who runs a foundation for incarcerated women and their children.
The Opus Prize is presented annually to faith-based humanitarians around the world. Each prize is awarded with the assistance of a Catholic university whose faculty and students are involved in the selection process.
There were 26 candidates for this year’s prize. Each organization considered must be entrepreneurial, sustainable and faith-based.
Fr. Joe’s award as a finalist brings honor to our foundation as it recognizes his four decades of work in our beloved Klong Toey slums and all his efforts in educating and protecting the very poorest children.
Photos below: Fr. Joe in early 1980s beside his shack in the slaughter house neighborhood and Fr. Joe this year presenting diplomas on Mercy Kindergarten Graduation Day. In the past 40 years, over 40,000 poor children have learned to read and write in our Mercy preschools. (B&W photos by Yoonki Kim; Slaughterhouse photo by James Coyne.)
We are happy to report that friends in Australia have registered a charity on our behalf.
Residents of Australia who wish to give to our Mercy Centre may now make tax deductible contributions through our new Australian charity.
If you wish to make a donation to our Mercy Centre or sponsor a Mercy child, you may do so on their website at www.mercycentreaustralia.org.
You can learn more about our Mercy Centre and our new Mercy Centre charity in Australia this Saturday on "Getaway Australia" October 11, at 5:30pm.
At a glance, you would hardly know you were in a swank Bangkok neighborhood.
All you can see in front of you are rows and rows of corrugated tin shacks in a field of mud. Yet just beyond the shacks, just a few blocks away, the streets are full of posh condos and fancy restaurants.
What you’re seeing is a construction workers camp, filled with migrant families, mostly from Cambodia, who have come to Thailand to eek out a semi-nomadic living, moving from one construction site to another, wherever they can earn a modest day-wage.
During the day, most moms and dads here are working on nearby construction sites while a few grandmas look after the babies and toddlers. The older children are left to fill their days idly in their shacks or to wander and play in patches of deep rutted sludge. The children are not allowed off premise. This mud patch is their world, their entire universe.