A young girl’s invitation to a Columban reveals the face of Jesus Christ.
By Fr. Cirineo Matulac

It was the beginning of autumn in southern Chile as I visited families I knew in Puerto Saavedra, especially those children I had taught in catechism class a few months previously.

While walking from home to home in the barrio, I recognized this little girl, about 7 years old, from the class.

She greeted me and welcomed me into her home, a small wood dwelling I had not visited before.

The timing was fortuitous: I was looking for shelter from the cold rain that was beginning to pour down.

At the home’s center, a fire burned. I sat in the corner, hoping to warm myself. Cold air flowed through gaps in the wooden walls. The wood didn’t extend to the floor; it was just hardened soil. In another room, there was a big bed in which, I reckoned, the whole family slept.

Walk-in Visitor
The girl asked me, “Would you like some mate?” I wasn’t sure if I should accept her hospitable offer of this hot tea, so I kept quiet.

The cold wind dug deeper into my bones. My little friend looked at me and smiled. She put the kettle on, and I was a little embarrassed to be served by a 7-year-old girl from my catechism class. When I offered to help her boil the later, she refused. As I drank the tea, two boys, about ages 3 and 5, rushed in.

The girl said to them, “Where were you? Look at yourselves; you’re so wet!”

She found an old but clean towel and dried their hair. I could tell she was fond of these children whom I had never met.

She told me, “These are my two brothers, Pedrito and José. I take care of them when my mama is away, but they are always running around in the field.

The two boys sat beside me while their sister served mate to them, too. They smiled at me and said, “Chinito,” which means Chinese.

I thought to myself, “They have never seen a Chinese man before who is pure Filipino!” I laughed, and they laughed too.

I asked them, “Where is your mama?”

They replied in chorus, “She’s helping with the harvest.”

I thought it wasn’t such a bad idea to wait a while for her. We had met before. I also knew her husband had left her and their three children, and that he was living with another woman.

This is a common reality in rural Chile, and a mother must often raise children on their own.

This encounter took place during my first missionary assignment as a seminarian. Part of the Columban formation program is to have a missionary experience outside your home country, and I spent about two years in Chile.

It was in the winter when I taught the children catechism in the small grade school in the barrio. The last time I had seen the children was during the celebration of Mes de Maria, the month devoted to the Blessed Virgin Mary. There is a great devotion to the mother of God in the parish, and the whole month is filled with prayer and Marian devotion, especially praying the rosary.

These memories came back to me as I looked at these three children in their humble home.

Her Young Dream
During that first day of catechism class, we read the annunciation story from the Gospel of St. Luke. I asked them, “What do you think of this story, especially about Maria?”

It was the girl who welcomed me that rainy day who said, “She is the mother of Jesus, who was from a small barrio like ours. She was a poor, young woman chosen by God.”

She spoke with a deep faith she had already learned at home, spoken was an air of precociousness and maturity. At a young age, she took on the responsibility of raising her two younger brothers. She told me that Jesus was like her smallest brother, and that when she grew up, she would like to be Maria, the chosen one.

It was then I realized the power of the annunciation story for these children, especially for this little girl. It was in this encounter that I met Jesus. He is with us; he raises the lowly.

I was brought back to the annunciation scene; back to when Jesus was conceived in that most insignificant village in Galilee. It was through Mary that God had chosen to be a participant in God’s plan for the salvation of the world.

It was to a simple woman the angel Gabriel said, “Greeting, most favored one! The Lord is with you! You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great, and He will be called Son of the Most High!”

Artists, such as Fra Angelico, painted the annunciation beautifully, portraying Mary as a young woman in a posture that conveys total submission to the will of God. “I am the Lord’s servant,” she said. “May it be as you have said.”

Mary was a woman radically open to the mysterious ways of God in her life, Scripture scholar Francis Moloney once wrote.

She came face to face with the unfathomable mystery of God that was working with her. The annunciation story profoundly describes the transforming power of a great and loving God who can raise the lowly.

Raised Up By God
The lowly, the poor, the three children around a fire … all are raised up by God. I, too, was face to face with a God who stands with the lowly. I felt a profound sense of humility when I realized I was confronted by this great mystery.

I didn’t notice that the rain had stopped. I must have sat there a long time talking with the children. The girl said, “Mama will be here shortly.”

Mama was happy to see me when she arrived home. She told me how difficult it is to harvest wheat in the rain. We chatted a while, and I felt grateful for her friendship.

When night fell and it was time for me to leave, I invited to send all three of her children to the next catechism class. She accepted the offer, and thanked me for taking time to be with her children.

I left them with the certainly that God will always be with them. God dwells in that small barrio home, warming Herself by that small fire that burns tenaciously.