Sustaining the Mission in Peru

by Eileen Egan, IHM

As a native of the diocese Trenton, NJ, I have been privileged to share with my people for many years about our IHM mission in Sicuani, Peru. The Propagation of the Faith usually assigns me to speak in two different parishes during the
summer when I'm in the States. One is near Trenton and the other is in the more affluent area near the Jersey shore.

On one occasion, just as I was about to speak after the gospel, a woman collapsed in the front pew. One person stood up and shouted, "I have a blood pressure cuff in the car and will go get it." Another shouted that he would call 911. For a few seconds I stood there in shock, but then suggested that we all pray Hail Marys together as we waited for the ambulance. It seemed to me that to focus on the Glorious Mysteries would imply that the woman had died and the Sorrowful Mysteries would contribute to the sadness of the moment, so I just stuck to the Hail Marys. Arriving at the church, the rescue squad was very respectful of the environment as they wheeled the woman out the door. I turned around and asked the celebrant if I should begin my talk. He called me over and questioned if this had ever happened to me before and I said, "No." Then he asked, "Whatever possessed you to pray the Hail Marys? I said, "I'm an IHM." He said, "Thanks so much."

At another time, there were new priests from Latin America in the diocese. At the end of the last mass they handed me a bag full of money and said. "Here's your collection." I told them that they needed to count it and send it to the Propagation of the Faith and a check would be forwarded to the Congregation. They continued to insist that it would be better if I took it. I had to practically run out of the church with the loot.

This year, Map Quest directed me to Trenton by Route 29. At one point it became Route 1 and I was on my way to Princeton. Turning around, I wound my way to inner city Trenton and knew that someone needed to get me on the right track. At a gas station there was a man on the motorcycle who looked like a hippie. I suspected that he'd know the right street to take. His voice was so soft and he directed me exactly to where I needed to go.

I'm sure you're wondering why I wasn't using GPS. Living outside the USA for over 40 years leaves me out of the loop as they say. I'm a little slow on the pick up, but along the way I've encountered many kind people who not only get me where I need to be, but are also very generous in the collections that help maintain our mission in Peru.