Michael Gerson’s Story.
A memory from the AIDS crisis. It was 2005, the year that global AIDS deaths peaked at 2.3 million. At the end of a dirt road in Kericho, Kenya, I visited Sister Placida, an energetic nun caring for a few dozen equally energetic AIDS orphans. She showed me several ‘memory boxes’ that dying mothers had prepared for their children, holding photos, letters, and a few mementos. The exercise struck me as forlorn — a short life poured into a shoebox — but also defiant. Facing an absurd death sentence, these women wanted to be recalled not as victims but as humans. They wanted to leave a mark, to make a statement: “Once there was such a life as mine.”
Sister Placida’s Story.
“We had a couple from Milngavie—Sheila and John—who gave us a donation to build the transitional care and training centre for kids in the community with HIV who had been neglected. They were more or less dying because they weren’t getting the right nutrition and medicine. So, that’s been a real big success because it’s the only one of its kind in the South Rift Valley. We have them for some months and we send them to the local school, so they don’t miss out on their education. However, we teach them about their status, taking their medicine on time and how important it is. We also give them good food and we make sure that they have counselling to deal with their status. They are also taught about being responsible with their sexual behaviour when they are older, because they could spread it. So, it’s a very good project that one.”
“Being in the company of these children is a beautiful memory,” Sr Placida continued. “The HIV positive kids know that they have a life-limiting disease, but with the antiretroviral drugs they can live a normal life. They often get visitors coming in and they give their witness. Tears just trip me because they are so grateful for their lives. They realise that, as young as they are. They tell these people thank you so much for your funding, because without it we would be dead. That sticks in mind because it happened so many times and no matter how many times that I heard kids talking like that it didn’t fail to move me. I was a wreck, crying my eyes out. That’s part of the joy of being able to help them.”
Sister Placida on Vocation.