Visitation Monastery of Minneapolis

At the park with my mom

by Melissa Borgmann-Kiemde, Visitation Companion

I had an opportunity to swing at a park with a small child recently. My arms were full of this almost one year old baby girl who pressed into me, clung for dear life at times, and occasionally released, tilting her head back and uttering a nervous, joyful giggle. I thought of how much this babe trusted me. The experience took me to thoughts of my own mother, my love and trust for her; it triggered a memory from when I was a small girl, swinging at a park in Lincoln, Nebraska. The reflective exercise gave me pause, inspired me to take note of the moment, and revisit it here, in this blog, where my heart goes to Mary, Jesus’ mom. I wonder if she and Jesus ever swung together? If so, what impressions might have such play and abandon left with the Christ child? I wonder who among us holds such memories of love and trust encounters? How do these shape us?

***

I am 4 years old in the memory. I live in Lincoln on Stillwater Street. In my mind, we are just a few blocks from a park with awesome swings, a tennis court and giant trees. I love the trees, but am sad when they get sick and need medicine. In my recollection, I am at the park with my mom and baby brother Ben. We love coming here and taking turns having the full attention of mom. She gathers us up, individually, and holds us in her lap, while she begins to swing. I am sitting astride her, our legs and arms criss-crossing like a pretzel; I cling fiercely to the chains that come up alongside us. She leans back in the swing, and I lean towards her; as her legs pump, we climb higher in the air. I am so happy, so in love, and so free.

What kind of playground experiences did Jesus  and Mary share? (Shoot: what did playgrounds look like or even consist of two thousand years ago? I imagine there was a lot of sand. But swings? I’m not certain, I just go with it.)

It’s an awesome and frightful thing, this swinging business. It is exhilerating to go so high, to have the wind in my little girl curls and to have my mom so close, so happy, so carefree. We are flying. We are moving closer to the trees and the birds in the sky. I want to see above the bar. I don’t ever want to let go. I want my turn in the swing with mom to last all day. I know I must let my brother have his chance, but for now, it’s me and my mom, and I’m happy.

***

What playful experiences did Mary and Jesus share?

I try to see Jesus in this moment. I imagine what he must have felt, as a small child, for his own mom. What kind of playground experiences did he and Mary share? (Shoot: what did playgrounds look like or even consist of two thousand years ago? I imagine there was a lot of sand. But swings? I’m not certain, I just go with it.) I marvel at the way that such engaged one-on-one time with mom must root us in a sense of security, belovednesss; I believe these experiences bond us with Love for life. Jesus must have known these times in an intimate and ultimately divine way, don’t you think?

***

In these days of Minnesota summer, when the monastery and Northside community are filled with young people out and engaged in service work, I imagine their childhoods. I try and see these budding youth and young adult ministers as mere babes — in their mother’s arms, swinging. I meditate on the way their parents’ love has brought them forward, to this moment. And I thank God for them.

On this June day, wherever you are, I invite you to reflect on the way play with a parent inspired and informed your sense of Love, belonging and purpose. I encourage you to find a swing and behold the Divine and Holy Spirit alive and at work in the experience of pumping your legs and arms and swinging high. Consider Mary. Reflect on your own mom. Be Jesus as a child. And see what surfaces in your own heart and mind, and brings you to this present moment. What does such play call you to do?

Peace!

Live + Jesus!

Posted by Melissa Borgmann-Kiemde, Visitation Companion

On Friday, June 17, 2011, I had the great pleasure of attending mass at the Girard Avenue Monastery with a group of young people from the Youth in Theology and Ministry (YTM) camp at St. John’s University. Four high school age students and their mentors convened at the Visitation Sisters’ houses to break open scripture, share a meal, and then present their service projects to our larger group.

Carolina Ortiz and Kevin Sanchez-Estrada, from Richfield High School,  presented an overview of their project reaching out to 400 + Spanish-speaking youth and families through the “Fuerza Juvenil” group, under the auspices of their longtime mentor, Rico Duran. Osseo area youth, Parker Rood, shared his experience organizing a “movie night” for his local community, and reflecting on his learning curve around prayer and productions. Betsey Olk, from Minneapolis Southwest High School, delivered her powerpoint presentation leading up to her YTM project. Betsy plans to help organize youth from St. Joan of Arc to go on a Missions Trip to Peru with mentor and Youth Minister Kelli Kester from the Basilica of St. Mary’s.

Click to see our Photo Gallery Album

While the Sisters have been supporting this camp for years, and sending young people from the northside community,  this was my first hand experience meeting participants from the YTM group and learning more about their summer journeys engaging in theological education and faith based leadership projects. What an inspiration they are!

To see pictures documenting our day together, see our Photo Gallery.

Posted by Melissa Borgmann-Kiemde, Visitation Companion

On the last day of the Visitation Seniors’ apostolic service experience,  they shared their thoughts about their two weeks among the Visitation Sisters of north Minneapolis. You can view these through our Video Gallery page. What follows are the written and video reflections of Kathleen Egan.

Kathleen Egan, Visitation School, Class of 2011

Saint Francis de Sales says, “Make friends with the angels who, though invisible, are always with you. Often invoke them, constantly praise them, and make good use of their help and assistance in all your temporal and spiritual affairs.” Although I have only been working the Visitation Sisters for a short time, I feel as though I have seen and experienced enough to last me a lifetime.

Through working with the kids at Northside Child Development Center I have been able to see God’s work through the innocence of children and the unconditional love they show towards kids, acults and strangers alike. The kids have reminded me that God wishes for us to trust our neighbors not doubt them or question their motives. When working at the Cookie Cart, I have seen how important community is to the development of kids and young adults. Through common interests and passion, we as people experience a new kind of love, one felt outside of our immediate family. When listening to Will Wallace speak, I was taught about the impact love can make. I think that we too often assume that our neighbor knows that we love them, and we forget to tell them so. However, it is in the expression of our love for one another that relationships progress and grow.

When listening to Constance and Princess speak to us about “Two Mothers,” I experienced something profound. Although I cannot even begin to imagine how mothers of murdered sons feel every day, I was emotionally moved. I was shown that even in the most desolate of times and emotions, love and hope can still exist. Princess and Constanct showed more hope than I have ever seen expressed by anyone, regardless of past experience. We are taught that our home is in Heaven. On earth we are like travelers staying in a hotel. I believe that God has placed each and everyone one of us on earth to change or impact the life of someone. Some impact the lives of several, hundreds, thousands, maybe millions. Others are sent to earth to change one. And I think that when we change one life, or show the face of God to one other person in some way, we have accomplished what we were sent to do. I know for the certain that every single person I met while working on the Northside has accomplished this. It is with true honesty that I say that I have seen angels walking among the streets and I have seen the face of God in those around me.

To view other reflection videos from the School of Visitation seniors upon the culmination of their service weeks’ experiences, tune into our You Tube Channel.

Click to Play CBS News

Who caught this story of our friends Mary Johnson and O’shea Israel on the CBS Evening News? We celebrate the coverage of this powerful tale centered on mercy, love, forgiveness and healing. The relationship between Mary and O’shea exemplifies the heart of our charism: Living+Jesus!

For those who weren’t able to watch this live, here’s a link to CBS journalist Steve Harman’s piece entitled:

We applaud and support the unfolding of this relationship and the people that nurture such transformational ways of relating and being in the world. Thank you, especially to Brian Mogren, Visitation Companion, and Director of St. Jane House, who owns the four-plex, “Alafia Place”  where Mary and O’shea reside as neighbors.

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For more information on Mary and O’shea’s place of residence, click here: Alafia Place: Dwelling in Possibility.

For Related Blogs: Click “From Death to Life” posts

Visitation Seniors with Visitation Sisters

Posted by Elizabeth Eilers Sullivan, Visitation Alumna

The tradition for Visitation Seniors to complete their education with 48 service hours began when I graduated in 1993 from The Convent of the Visitation. It continues today, as the senior women engage in a placement that speaks to their desires and interests and responds to the placements’ needs.

This year the seniors who joined the Visitation Sisters in north Minneapolis were Kathleen Egan, Annie Gavin, Frances Fyten, Ellie McDonald, Katie Moran, and Jessie Wyatt. I had the good fortune of meeting them when I joined them to hear Princess and Constance share their stories. I have had the privilege of reading their reflections from the two weeks they spent in north Minneapolis. Each morning began at the Northside Child Development Center. The Vis Seniors were separated into five different classrooms, toddlers through school-aged children. After spending their mornings at Northside, the seniors returned to the monastery for lunch and the sisters lined up many neighbors to come and talk with them about their mission in making north Minneapolis a better place. Throughout the two weeks the Visitation Seniors had the opportunity to meet with a sister who served as their mentor, and were available to them to answer questions or concerns they had. In the afternoons the seniors worked in the sisters garden with Visitation Companion, Linda Goynes, at Sister Jean’s Cookie Cart, visited the elderly, helped with the tornado clean-up, or planned a graduation party for disabled students.

For those discerning what living with the sisters as a peaceful presence to their neighbors would be like,  I offer you a glimpse from these graduating seniors’ perspectives:

Jessie Wyatt

“The main reason why I chose this project was to be able to spend time with the sisters. I was fortunate enough to get to know Sister Suzanne [as my adviser] over the course of the past two weeks. By being able to spend extra time with her, I was reaffirmed at what a remarkable woman she is. Holding a variety of enticing jobs to finally deciding on living Jesus in the north Minneapolis community. Sister Suzanne inspires me.” -Jessie Wyatt, gap year studying in Barcelona and service, then will attend Harvard University in the fall of 2012.  Jessie enjoys speaking Spanish and working with kids.

Ellie McDonald

“After spending two weeks with the Visitation Sisters from north Minneapolis my life has been altered beyond belief….witnessing their generosity and Salesian values practiced.” -Ellie McDonald will attend University of Iowa  Fall of 2011, and enjoys cooking and country music.

Annie Gavin

“To walk amongst such selfless souls, who have discarded their holy shrouds for veils of solidarity has been a truly unbelievable experience….They are real people helping real people….If I had to pick a single adjective to describe my time in the neighborhood, I would have to choose ‘transformative, transformed’” -Annie Gavin will attend Macalester College in the fall of 2011 and enjoys working with kids and hanging out with friends.

Katie Moran

“Upon arriving the first day, I was pleasantly surprised by how welcomed and comfortable I felt in the sisters’ home. There was a certain spirit about them that made me feel special, warm, and loved–a spirit that now I would describe as the Holy Spirit. I think their profound connection with God is actually palpable, and I am inspired to be like them in that way–so connected with Christ that others would sense him through me.” -Katie Moran will attend University of Notre Dame in the fall of 2011 and enjoys running, and spending time with family and friends.

What the group shared with their peers back at the Visitation in Mendota Heights is the “inspiration they gained from hearing the speakers, the life and energy they got from the kids they worked with, understanding the importance of community, and what a great example of faith the Sisters are in north Minneapolis.” The senior apostolic is a way that encourages the women to deepen the Visitation motto “Non scholae, sed vitae,” which means not for school, but for life. The Salesian education bestowed on us is truly an education of the mind, heart, and hands–making the Visitation Alumna truly women for others.

We’ve added new photos to our photo gallery! Check out the latest images from the Visitation Senior’s two week service experience that took place following the May 22, 2011, tornado that ripped through north Minneapolis.

Click here for Photo Gallery link

Stay tuned for more reflections from these six young women on their experiences as well as thoughts from Vis Alumna, Elizabeth Eilers Sullivan!

Written by Elizabeth Eilers Sullivan, Visitation Alumna

Two mothers healing: Princess and Constance

Princess takes a deep breath as she looks at the floor. She is sitting in a low to the ground armchair to my left. Her long dark braids cascade around her face and her hands are clasped at her mouth as she gathers her courage. After a silent pause she asks her friend, Constance, to share her story first; “I need to collect my thoughts,” she smoothly states.

The chairs in the living room at the Girard Monastery are in a circle. There are candles lit on the coffee table in the center. I went to north Minneapolis this Friday, May 27, 2011, for an impromptu visit to the monastery with my four-week-old son, Seamus. I wanted to see the destruction left behind from the tornado, and to witness the rebuilding of the community. However, Sister Katherine invited me to stay to hear these two mothers, Constance and Princess, tell their stories; I witness another kind of rebuilding  in the wake of devastation.

Constance kneels at her son, Dante's, grave.

With Princess’ request, Constance begins to speak with honesty and eloquence — if one can speak eloquently about what it is like to have her oldest son, Dante, murdered. On October 2, 1994, at 10:30 a.m. Constance lost her son at the tender age of 16.

Dante was born June 29, 1978;  if he were still alive today he would be celebrating his 32nd birthday this month. Constance talks about the anger she harbored at God and others with the loss of her son. She describes the downward spiral she fell into: drinking and doing drugs to deal with the pain of her son’s death. Later in a phone conversation I have with her, she says, “My then 12-year-old son came to Dante’s funeral in handcuffs and shackles, handcuffs and shackles,” she repeats. She tells of the grace she found when she finally turned to God and realized that she does not have control over the things that happen in life, much less her son’s death.

Princess’ turn

The room is silent; a sacred hush blankets it. “I need to stand otherwise I won’t look you all in the eye while I tell my story.” With that Princess rises.

Princess rises.

She speaks about what life was like before July 4, 2010, just ten months ago- when both of her two sons were living. She shares how the fourth of July holiday, her mother-in-law’s birthday, was a ritual of celebration for anyone who happened to have a birthday on or near her mother’s. A cake was ordered for the event with the words: “Happy Birthday all Cancers and PHAT PHAT!”  Her son, Anthony, was the only one that got mentioned by name on the cake, his endearing nickname, “Phat Phat.”

Anthony asked permission back in March to attend a party scheduled for the fourth of July, his friend’s graduation. Permission granted, Princess gave him bus money to go to the party and quizzed him like any protective, good mother would do, “What are you going to do if one of your friends does not have bus fare?”

His reply, “I’ll take the bus ma, I won’t walk with them.”

Their plan: for Princess to pick Anthony up after the fireworks.

There is a before and after to her story, to each mom’s story–in this group From Death to Life.

However, there is no “after the fireworks” that night, not as they plan. As Princess’ family gathers around to watch the fireworks display, Princess’ phone rings. It is 8:50 pm.

At 8:49 pm her son is shot, by 8:50 pm he is dead.

“When I hear this. I drop my phone and began to sing,” she says as she sways slow and steady, lost in that memory:

“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;

courage to change the things I can;

and wisdom to know the difference.”

Dead. Within a minute.

This fact settles,  as I hold my four week old son, sitting next to Princess. He begins to fuss and root, he wants to be nursed. I can’t bring myself to do it. Not here. It seems wrong that here I hold my fourth son who I can touch and feed, but I just can’t bring myself to nurse him while she talks about the excruciating pain of losing her son. I pacify Seamus with my pinky finger and he sucks readily. I am relieved that he’s quieted. My heart aches as she continues to speak, tears brim in my eyes.

Dead: her son, her Anthony. Against all the plans, the permission, the preparation, Anthony just becoming man, the bullet enters his body leaving no mark of blood on his shirt. Anthony dies from internal bleeding. His t-shirt is clean, no blood, the only evidence of his murder is the deadly hole left behind from the bullet.

“I am not going to talk about what it is like to deal with the hurt and anger at losing a son because Constance covered that well, but I want to talk about what it is like to lose two sons. I lost two sons that day.” Princess continues to explain that while one was murdered, her other son, Jessie, while still living and breathing, is also dead. Jessie no longer talks to her, no longer hugs her like he used to, nor looks her in the eye. He will be close to a friend one week and then won’t return calls the next week. The only way she knows how Jessie is doing is by listening to his spoken words and songs he composes late into the night. And with heart wrenching memory she shares some of his songs that speak about being no longer here.

Princess shares: “My son, Anthony, who is dead, is here spiritually with me, and my son, Jessie, that lives, is here physically – but gone spiritually.”

Witness: Visitation ensemble present for Princess and Constance's Stories

And while Princess has Constance and other mothers who are part of the Death to Life group to garner support and to pray with, these young men that remain have no where to go to make sense of their lost brother, cousin, friend. “What do we do for them so that they can heal?” Princess muses. Her son who is alive is afraid. Rightfully so. Princess aches, and yet, she courageously shares her story shy of her son’s anniversary.

I cradle my son, Seamus, closer. I want to offer for her to hold my baby, but this isn’t what she needs. My arms ache for her as she talks about wanting to hold her son. She prays to God to let her see, touch, hear Anthony again—God answers her prayers and she sees Anthony in her dreams. Jessie she hopes to hold again. She wears their clothes to feel close to them, to cope. She pulls up her pants to reveal mismatched socks as evidence that she is barely holding it together. A tell tale sign that their feet once slid these socks on with a casualness she longs to have back. Princess ends by encouraging all of us to go through our pain.

“Please do not harbor [your pain] and hold onto it, because it will eat you alive — but let it out.” She clenches her fist and releases it and says, “When we feel our emotions it is like a spiritual massage,” and her fist opens and closes a few times more reminding me of a heart that pulses.

***

As I drive home that night,  I drive by the hardest hit areas from the tornado; I see the fallen trees, destroyed homes, displaced people. I see the crews of volunteers, the donation spots, and wonder how much destruction can manifest itself in one neighborhood. How much more can a community take? I hold the tornadoes of the heart that Princess and Constance share by having the courage to tell their story.

Sister Mary Margaret says, “The long term wear and tear of the tornado is very nerve-racking.  Keep the prayers blanketing the area….”

And so our prayers blanket all that is lost and all that remains to be rebuildt, but people can never be brought back, and this is our sobering heartbreak of a reality to accept.

Picture taken of Phat Phat's shared birthday cake on July 4, 2010

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To read more posts that cover more From Death to Life stories.

To watch CBS Evening News coverage of Mary Johnson & Oshea