Jason, A Light In The World
by Robert Wilhelm

The Brothers work with the residents every day, giving them so much loving care – truly doing Christ’s work on earth. They own nothing and, when they are not working with the poor, they worship and do chores around the monastery which is surrounded by the incessant din of the slums where Jamaican music blares through the night. Mosquitoes were our constant nightly companions. Cold showers offered the only relief from the tropical heat.

Each day, a truck transported the Brothers and us the few blocks to work at the centers. It was hard but joy-filled work with never a dull moment. All the children, from babies to teens – many with deformities that separated them from their communities and families – came to us for attention. All received showers and clean clothes and bedding every day. This was a huge effort by the Brothers.

One day, Roxanne and the other three women lowered three people into their graves during a modest funeral at a cemetery that looked more like a landfill. And, we prayed over one man who we found had died overnight at one of the centers. Many of the residents are retarded, have malformed bodies, or were abused before society discarded them. Many of them have AIDS and need much care as they spend their last days on earth. Some had actually been left in the city dump for the Brothers to recover.With the exception of Roxanne, who is a nurse, we had no special gifts except for God’s love to offer. In the eyes of these people, we saw His love reflected back to us. We received much more love than we could possibly give. Washing faces, hands and bodies, shaving residents, bathing children, dressing wounds and feeding those who could not feed themselves. These were our activities and our small gifts.But, this story is about Jason, not us. On Sunday morning, I got the task of dressing several residents for mass, including Jason. I put on their shirts, pants, and shoes and prepared to walk them to the weekly mass. As I was dressing Jason, he had an epileptic seizure. After it passed, I finished dressing him. He acted like nothing had happened but the Brothers were reluctant to allow him to go to mass for fear he would have another seizure. Jason cannot talk and his head is misshapen; his mouth is a non-descript opening on the side of his face; one eye is nearly closed by the immense tissue mass that is his face. But his eyes; oh, his eyes – how they transfix you!The Brothers finally allowed him to attend mass after which I went to help him walk back down the street to the center. As I held his arm, Jason grasped my backpack and shifted it from my shoulder to his. He would not let me carry my own pack. My little backpack could contain all of his earthly belongings in one of its dark corners. I was moved to tears by his loving consideration. I still cry when I think about it. When the van came to transport us back to the monastery, I was still feeding Jason but had to say goodbye. Our time in Jamaica was over as we headed home after only six short days. Sometimes I feel that they were the most meaningful six days of my life.

On our return to Atlanta, we reflected on our own ‘poverty,’ the spiritual poverty we live in, a poverty whose symptoms include an excessive focus on material goods and appearances. We have so much and these people have so little yet they are so happy with what they do have. What lessons they can teach us!

Bob and Roxie Wilhelm are part of Zechariah Ministries’ core. They plan on returning to Jamaica to serve the poor and are gathering donations of medical supplies and other needed commodities to give to M.O.P. If you would like to help out with these needs or help financially, please send your donations to Zechariah Ministries.

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