I can’t imagine what it would be like not to be welcome in my own country.  Not to feel welcome, nor to feel safe.  Perhaps to fear for my life…  I have always felt safe and wanted and valued.  I have been and continue to be, very privileged.

When I was a young woman, I began to become aware that there were many people who had a different experience to mine.  My heart moved and I wanted to help.  I was in contact with the Brigidine Sisters and they helped me to connect with a recently arrived asylum seeker about my own age.

I invited this young woman out for lunch.  It was a pleasant lunch by the sea.  We went for a walk after our lunch.  We talked about many things but our conversation was superficial.  We exchanged mobile numbers but, I think, we both knew that neither of us would contact the other and that is exactly what happened.  I think that I insisted on paying the bill and on reflection, this was not the best thing to do…

This meeting was a fail but I didn’t really know why.  I did not have the spiritual maturity or insight to understand what had happened and why we had failed to connect, but I did feel we both had good intentions.

My next foray into assisting asylum seekers was a great success but had very little to do with me.  My friend at work, Nina bought a beautiful vest (online) but it didn’t fit her.  She insisted that I have it.  It didn’t fit me, either!  It was a bit too big.  And the wrong colour.  But it was warm, comfortable and had large pockets.  When I put it on I felt “comforted”.  It came to me to send this to the Brigidine sisters and that is exactly what I did. 

Two days later, I received an email from the main worker, Mary, saying that a party of four women had arrived that day and that one of them had no warm clothing at all!  She was cold.  And frightened.  And lost.  Mary gave her the vest I sent and her face lit up as she put it on.  It was a perfect fit.  It had found the person it was meant for. 

 Buoyed by this success, I quickly went out to buy three other jackets.  The colour wasn’t quite right, the material was a bit rough, the style was homely but still I bought and posted them, even though there was a small, quiet voice suggesting this was not really appropriate.

Of course, I never heard from Mary.  I knew they were not beneficial to anyone and that I was only acting from my own ego.

Now, I assist others who help asylum seekers.  Mostly in small ways.  Yet it is better than doing nothing at all.

Imagine fleeing your own country?  You can’t?   No, me neither.  But let us continue to try in small and large ways to help when we can.  That is what Spirit calls us to do.