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The spicy Indian food led
me to increase my faith
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January 26, 2017
Catechectical Sisters of Arogyamatha from India, from left, Sisters Vijaya Sappogu, Chithra Mani, Selvi Rayappan and Nirmala Panditi mnister to a nursing home in Kenedy, Texas in the Archdiocese of San Antonio.
There is a nursing home in Kennedy, Texas, named after St. John Paul II. It is supervised by a group of nuns. John Zimmer, one of my parishioners, after having visited his mother there, came to the rectory and brought me two or three small plastic containers full of food. He told me, the food was a gift from the nuns working in the nursing home.
John met one of the nuns while ministering to his mother; he guessed she was from India, and told her that there was a priest from India working in St. Joseph parish in Beeville. Though John has been helping me at prison ministry for the last two years, he could not tell her from where I hailed from in India. But John told her, “His name is Father Paul, and I know for certain, he is a vegetarian since I used to eat with him in the restaurants as we returned from prison ministry.”
The sister invited John to the convent to meet their superior and other members of the community. He was surprised that he was given a royal reception; he never had this sort of welcome in any convent It was the first time that he tasted real home-made Indian food, too. Though a little spicy, he enjoyed it.
When John told the sisters about my eating habits, the superior asked, “Does Father Paul have a cook?” He answered, “No, mostly he has to depend upon restaurants which he does not like.” Her response was very motherly. She said, “I feel sorry for him. John, if you wait a few minutes we will pack some of the food we have already prepared, and if it is ok with you, please carry it for him.” John replied, “My pleasure; I will do it with great joy.” And he brought the food for me.
There was a note of invitation along with the food. It was a standing welcome to the convent to enjoy the homemade Indian food they prepared. I opened the packet. Oh! Even the smell was nostalgic. It was more than enough for my dinner that day. I kept the leftovers in the freezer, and used it for the next few days. This is the first time that I have had homemade Indian food since I visited my family two years ago.
From the taste and the style of the preparation of the food, I guessed, the nuns might be either from the state of Tamil Nadu or Andra Pradesh. I called Sister Selvi, the superior, to thank her for the food and the invitation. She invited me personally to visit them, and I did a month later.
As I rang the bell at the convent, all four Indian nuns were at the door to welcome me. At first, I was taken to the chapel where we prayed together; then, as expected, to the breakfast table. My mouth became watery as I saw Indian delicacies like doshsa, chatni, bolied kadala, steamed banana, etc. on the table. We all sat down, and having said grace, we started eating breakfast. The typical Indian tea that was served made me feel more at home.
While conversing, we began to introduce ourselves: the place each one hailed from, about our own families, the type of ministry we do, etc. I was not mistaken; two of them were from the state of Tamil Nadu and others from Andra Pradesh. Sister Selvi, the superior, explained why and how she became a missionary sister. I could not believe my ears as I listened to her. It is better to put it in her words:
“My name is Sister Selvi Rayappan, CSA, a missionary from the southern part of India. I was born in a remote village called Uriyur in the state of Tamil Nadu. This is in the territory of the Diocese of Vellore. Ours was a farm community, and we had only limited public transportation. When I was three, I contracted polio and I could not stand or walk myself. There were some other children also like me in our village. The nearest hospital for us was five miles away. People had to walk all the way that far to get any medical assistance. Since most of them were very poor they could not afford taxi service. Medicines were very expensive, too. I remember that my father used to carry me on his shoulders to the doctor walking five miles to and fro.
“One day to the disappointment of my father, the doctor advised him, there was no need of bringing me to him anymore, since my sickness could not be healed. It made all my family members extremely sad. But my mother was not prepared to give up. She had great faith in the Lord, especially in the intercession of Blessed Virgin Mary. She was an ardent devotee of Our Lady of Good Health at Velamkanni a Marian Pilgrim Center in our state. My mother started all kinds of novenas, prayers, fasting, alms giving, etc., on my behalf. She went to the extent of even making a promise, ‘Mother Mary, if my daughter would walk as a normal girl I would certainly offer her to God’s service.’ Perhaps it was like the prayer of Hannah the childless woman in the Old Testament. She prayed to God, and made a vow: ‘By giving me a son, I’ll give him completely, unreservedly to you. I’ll set him apart for a life of holy discipline’.
“Her plea was answered; so also that of my mother. My polio slowly disappeared in one year, and I started walking and running as any other healthy girl of my age did. I have not experienced any weakness on my legs until this time.
“I started going to school. Having finished high school something was bothering me always. I began to think, what to do next? Nothing made me happy. I could not take a decision. I shared this predicament with my mother; then she recalled the promise that she had made to Blessed Virgin Mary. She advised me to pray to Mother Mary so that she would guide me to take a decision. I started praying in a special way for this intention. One day as I was praying to her, I had a strong feeling that Mother Mary had to reveal something to me personally. I felt ardently that God was calling me to do something special for him.
Meantime, I was told that some of my friends had joined a convent, which was located in Andra Pradesh, one of the neighboring states. I asked my pastor if I could join them. He advised me that it would be difficult for me because they did not speak the language that I spoke, and their culture also was different. There was a strong point in what he said. Still I continued my prayer to Mother of Good health.
One day I made a visit to my friends in their convent. I knew nothing about their congregation. As soon as I reached the entrance of the convent I saw a life size statue of Mother of Good Health, and I knelt before it, and spent almost one hour praying. At the end I cried out with joy that I was enlightened to take a decision with regard to my future.
“I rang the bell at the door, and I was welcomed by my friends and their superior. We had a discussion, and I was told theirs was a newly founded congregation named after Our Lady of Good Health. They had only three professed sisters at that time, and three novices, too. Finally, I decided to join them with the permission of my parents, and I am a member of this congregation since 1993.
“I realize, God had a plan that I should serve him and his people as a member of this congregation. God’s ways are mysterious.”
“Since I personally experienced,” Sister Selvi added, “what it was to be handicapped and disabled, I am able to minister to the incapacitated people in the nursing home with greater commitment and joy.”
Hundreds and thousands of devotees congregate at the Marian Shrine in Velamkanni. It is dedicated to Our Lady of Good Health, too. A lot of miraculous stories are reported from there. With all humility, I would say, I did not take it very seriously; I visited this place only two times; one out of curiosity, and the other with a group of men and women from my parish. When the massive tsunami in 2006 washed away the surrounding places, the shrine remained untouched. I tried to explain it away with my simple reasoning.
When I listened to Sister Selvi, my heart was like that of the disciples going to Emmaus, “They asked each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?’. I had no reason to doubt the veracity of her story. I made a decision that I will visit Velamkanni at the earliest opportunity; this time neither as a tourist nor as a ‘doubting Thomas’ but as a true devotee.
Marian Shrine at Velamkanni, India. To know more about this pilgrim center visit: http://www.velankannichurch.com/index.html
Yes, it was the spicy Indian food that helped increase my faith!
