As is the case in all of our houses, life is filled with the ordinary and sometimes with the not so ordinary. Recently, for example, Fr. David Linder gave a retreat to the priests of the Accra Archdiocese.

He was the upfront man, and the rest of us were the behind the scenes gang, offering up each day of those two weeks for the retreat. And believe me, even though some of us had great sacrifices and sufferings to offer, it was a journey of faith to believe that we were contributing significantly.

The results: great graces and the acknowledged presence of Catherine Doherty on that retreat.

What are our treasures here? The people God has given us to share our hearts with. They come from every strata of society and are of every age—the poorest of the poor who hopefully know our unconditional love for them, the school children who sometimes try to see if that unconditional love includes boundaries (some days it does, especially during mango season), the young adults who tell us about their hopes and dreams, and about their frustrations and disappointments when those dreams seem to be fading and unobtainable.

The middle-aged, who toil relentlessly to feed and educate their children, when obtaining the bare essentials of survival is a challenge. And the elderly who are rooted in faith and wisdom.

One of our treasures died recently. She was an anawim (one of the little ones especially beloved of God), and she had been coming to us almost daily for breakfast for all those fifteen years.

Unable to care for herself, she was usually dirty, often in need of a new dress, and often teased by people who should have known better.

She had a temper and a streak of stubbornness. She was the poorest of the poor.

There are memories I will always cherish of her: making her way to the collection box at Sunday Mass to put in her offering from the alms people had given her, arriving at our house for her breakfast and giving us an orange or two she had collected on the way, smiling radiantly one Christmas freshly bathed and wearing a beautiful long blue dress, sitting with another of the anawim who come to us, sharing a plate of food with him.

There is sadness in my heart that she has died, but also great joy to know that she is free at last. (When we saw her at her wake, she had a wonderful smile on her face.)

Our pearl of great price is the love of our God which he desires to pour out lavishly. He asks me and each of us at MH Ghana to sell everything we possess in order to be open channels of this love, for each other and for all who come to us.

And he asks our friends here to trust that love in the midst of seemingly insurmountable obstacles—and to not only trust it for themselves, but to pass it on unconditionally to each other.

So as we begin our 16th year in this room of Madonna House, as we continue our journey together with our friends, we are asking for deeper faith, unlimited trust, and boundless love. May our love be rooted in the heart of the Trinity and may it be truly unconditional.