COVID and other life events made me realize how comfortable I had become with my life. Small things—perhaps even insignificant things—were pressing, panic-worthy, and rocked my world in a way they definitely didn’t need to. My endurance and my ability to have faith were barely being tested in the grand scheme of things. And yet, I felt like I was coming apart at the seams and like I had nothing to hold myself together with. I didn’t know how to even cry out for help...or rather, to Whom I should cry out for help. 

I’ve had a perspective shift since then, and I can look back and see just a few of the ways that I was being prepared for where I currently am. God was making room in my heart that I didn’t know I had.

My endurance—my resilience—is perhaps greater than it was because of that process and the work that was being done in me. Thank God! I know Who to ask for help, now. And while I have so far yet to come, I am convinced that St. Innocent Orphanage is the best place to learn by example. 

Have you ever met someone and then learned something shocking about them after getting to know them? A part of their history, something they’ve been through, something out of the ordinary? It probably changes your perspective of them. Perhaps you think of it every time you see them, or instead it just molds itself into their makeup and who they are to you. 

But have you ever heard something shocking about someone and then met them later on? Maybe without having known you would ever meet them at all?

These are two different scenarios. 

In my experience with the latter, the “shock factor” quickly wears off after you hear it. But then you meet the person it pertains to and you get to know them, and though it may take some time, it all comes back. And it comes back hard. 

This has been my experience with every one of these boys. 

It’s so easy to hear and say words like “abuse” and “institution” and “homeless.” It can even be easy to hear second hand stories about these things. It’s easy to watch the news, isn’t it? But if you ever live alongside those flesh and blood statistics and stories and they become like your family, things get very real very fast.

My experience has not been easy. I did a lot of questioning at first. I questioned my ability to be resilient in the face of these kids who have faced actual evil. As I have come to know them better, the mostly-faceless-mostly-nameless boy has become my neighbor, my playmate, my little brother, and my friend. The stories have sunk in deeper, stuck and sometimes I still question my own abilities. 

But I continue to get to know them, and I continue to hear stories every now and then. Mostly I continue to pray that I will--one day-- be able to emulate their ability to accept the grace of God and to be resilient in the face of evil. Without knowing the stories or the facts, you wouldn’t guess what they’ve seen and endured. And if you guessed, you simply wouldn’t know. It’s truly humbling: I feel like I’ve come so far in my own journey, but I know now that everything is relative because their ability to endure puts me to shame. These eighteen boys will never know how much they influence and teach me.

As I write this in all my brutal honesty, I realize that I am surrounded every single day by everyday saints. We share meals, inside jokes, a laptop for school.We share the Eucharist, a home, and a family. I dwell among saints. Yes...they’re everyday saints who wipe their hands on their shirts, say “no manches” and fall asleep during catechism. They’re everyday saints that I give a “mom look” to every now and then. But they’re also saints who have overcome more than I will see in a lifetime. They teach me while I muddle along teaching them. 

A wise woman who knows them well once said to me: “These boys are going straight to Heaven before I ever am. I will be asking for their prayers. After they’ve been through what they’ve been through...you just can’t blame them. For anything.”  And I don’t; because you can’t. There is nothing to blame. There is only room for learning resilience and accepting the grace of God who never abandons his children. 

Faeli Heise is a veteran homebuilding volunteer and current Project Mexico & St Innocent Orphanage Intern serving at St Innocent.