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Adult Faith Formation

A May Day To Remember

Having participated in many a May Day over the years, May Day 2009 was a winner! The weather cooperated to ‘da max’. The acoustics ‘did their thing’. The youngsters’ performances were fantastic (and as an old retired teacher, I can vouch for the effort and work put into the entire program!). Our MC’s did a beautiful job of introducing each class. Mrs. Arecchi’s sweetly introduced the ‘important’ guests…like Fr. Bert, Fr. Johnathan, Sisters Grace & Joan and Sr. William Marie (who did so very much to put St. Michael’s back on the map). The teachers and staff were highly coordinated as they may-poled with brilliant smiles on their faces Gasp. And what a delight for this Irish lady to have a dance dedicated to the isle of her ancestors!

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The Taste of St. Michael’s was a great success. From Filipino Adobo & Lumpia to good old Hot Dogs & Hamburgers. From Italian Crab Cioppino, Mexican Chili, Samoan Palusami, Tongan smoked pig to Portuguese Vinha D”Alhos and Malasadas. When I heard it was a ‘taste’…I thought it would be only that…but wow! What helpings. Of course, we will have to set up several shave ice areas next year. Above all, our deepest Mahalo to those who provided all this delicious food, cooked it, and served it. And a special thank you to our pastor in his cow hat running around offering extra dinner rolls. That was a Kodak moment!

I arrived at morning Mass at 6:30 to find Fr. Johnathan and buddies already at work. I arrived again before nine to drive around several blocks looking for a parking place. I had to leave my ‘job’ of wrapping plastic forks several times to hug and kiss and love up friends and former students (two with triplets!!!). And I watched the joy on faces as they saw neighbors, fellow parishioners, and much of the North Shore. There is NO place on Oahu that compares to our beloved St. Michael’s.

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Molokai Pilgrimage

We came by plane across the channel to the Friendly Isle, the Forbidden Isle. We came to walk in Damien’s footsteps and so we did. Some had been to this country place before, but had never been to Kalaupapa. Early Saturday the hale and hearty descended the pali by foot. The rest boarded small planes and within minutes, we saw the cliffs give way to a spit of land…holy land. Sr. Alicia Damien and our guide Pat Boylan met us at the tiny airport surrounded by a white picket fence. After all arrived by land or by foot, we drove to Kalaupapa passing grave stones and green fields with no markers but only knowledge of those buried below. We rounded the road with the stone on stone cistern that Damien and the residents had built with him to capture water, stone walls behind which some had lived, and finally the church enlarged from the tiny chapel that met him when he waded ashore to find his people hiding the ravages of their disease in bushes and make shift huts. We looked down upon the landing banked against high cliffs…and rocky beach. How did they struggle up to find their “home” in this place of desolation? But he came and stayed and rests with his own. We circled around his grave to touch the stone of our Saint and prayed together. If only we could have walked his evening rosary path, or sat and listened to the voices murmuring through the Ironwood trees. Did they chant, “He loved us. He died with us. He was our hope in a place of seeming hopelessness. He was our anchor.” But time was limited and we left from Kalawao to kalapapa for Mass at St. Francis, his church and gathered on the steps with our own Fr. Felix. We visited Bishop Home, the grounds of our Blessed Marianne and listened to Sr. Candida as she spoke of this saintly and stalwart woman. Sunday, Fr. Clyde celebrated Mass for us topside at Our Lady of Seven Sorrows and toured us through Damien’s travels up the cliffs to build that church and others. We touched the boards he pounded and sat within tiny St. Joseph’s where he ran out of glass so placed wood over the tops of gothic windows. Yet, Damien is with us still. He spoke to our hearts of self giving, of seeing Christ in all people, of hard work, suffering, determination and constant prayer. A young man from Belgium, ordained in Hawaii, for Hawaii.

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In case you are wondering, there WAS a balance. We laughed and complained about hiking aches and pains, we bonded at meals while wonderful local entertainers kept us moving (some on the dance floor). We laughed nervously on tiny airplanes, bought Molokai bread late at night, sang on the buses and pulled and pushed the “brave of heart hikes” up and down the steps. To sum it up…it was a weekend of total blessing not to be forgotten.

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