Visiting Holy Family

Where Holy Family resides

     “Do you believe in saints?” was not exactly a question I expected from the young girls seated before us last Saturday when we crossed the canal by short ferry boat ride to spend a little time at Holy Family, a Coptic ministry to orphans and other young women. Our hostess was Sister Batoul, a wise nun and de facto mother to these young girls.  She also was a student in one of my English classes that just finished. When we entered the reception room, the girls all came, kissed her joyfully, and shook hands with us.

     We were not sure what to expect, but we could count on being offered something to eat or drink. Since the church is in a period of fasting, they could not make anything with milk or eggs, but nevertheless made some crème caramel from a box for us. We appreciated that hospitality.

     Their curiosity and desire to communicate made me wish more than ever to be able to speak their language as they gathered around us chattering to us in Arabic. One language we did share was the language of faith. They sang a praise song for us that had many stanzas. After that, I taught them a simple, repetitious children’s song: “Hallelu, hallelu, hallelu, hallelujah, praise ye the Lord.” Then David and I sang, “For God so loved us” in harmony, which doesn’t seem to be a tradition here. Singing always seems to translate across boundaries in some way.
                                                     

      We asked what their days look like. We found two activities that take priority are to study the Bible and to work with their hands. They take turns cooking and cleaning up, and they have access to craft projects and supplies at any time. The philosophy of the sisters who care for these girls is to give their hands and minds something positive to think about so they will not focus on whatever sad and sordid past they may have come from.


     Their crocheted hats and scarves, as well as the intricate doilies and table runners were very well made.These are sold in the church shops. They were so proud of their good work and did not let us leave without a gift doily.
            

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We also saw the place where they make yoghurt, buttermilk, and a simple white cheese, all of which they can sell on the premises. Every part that we saw looked very clean and tidy.

I must say that I am sometimes bewildered by the number of saints they honor for this or that reason, extending back to the time of Christ. I finally told them that “yes, I believe that anyone who lives the will of God can be a saint, since Paul addressed many of his letters to the saints at this or that place.” They concluded that, in this case, we could all be saints. I took it that we had “passed,” as they warmly invited, more like begged, us to come back again and spend a longer time with them. We look forward to being with these sweet young ladies and their loving caretakers in the future.