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“A father’s communication with his many children… that is one of the most agreeable occupations of my life” 1857
Some years ago when I visited Aix, I was invited to share my experience(s) of God, who God was in my life. Hard to do in English let alone French. I was waiting for others to come when I was asked a question by one of the staff and I asked her to please speak more slowly. Her response was to pronounce and elongate each word – each syllable extremely slowly. And then she and her friends laughed at me. I was embarrassed and actually wanted to get up and leave. But I did give my little talk about God in my life which was later described as a little choppy but it was understood.
Fast forward to my present life. During COVID I moved to a new apartment – still in Ottawa, but the area is very French. I began to meet others in my building, most of whom are bilingual and we have become good friends. There was one older woman though who did not speak English or French, but I would hear her on her phone and her language sounded like Arabic (I was really guessing at that). Her husband was very sick and when he died and I felt sad for her because she was truly alone. When her children brought her back to the apartment building after the funeral I opened the door for them and approached her. I could only speak in English but as I spoke her son quietly translated what I was saying. I gave her a hug, I told her that I loved her, and in the days to come I would be praying for her and to come to my door if she wanted to be with someone. Her son told me her name was Jamila. Now when we meet she says one particular word to me and we hug. Gradually many of my new friends would join us. When a young Lebanese man moved into the building I asked him what that one word meant and he thought for a moment and said “beloved”. Picture us as we meet and greet each other – as we all talk together trying often to explain with our own versions of sign language, talking and laughing and our hands moving quickly. There is much laughter and joy along with some tears.
Over time we have all managed to share with each other – our hopes and dreams as well as our struggles and challenges. Our hearts are connected and we continue to share rather than just speaking words. I am reminded of Fr. Albert Lacombe OMI who learned the languages of some of our Indigenous peoples here in Canada – he taught and walked with them, often using symbols and signs to get his messages across. He loved and was loved. He was close to the people…