Wednesday, Donna Clifford, CSJP-A arrived from Seattle as did Sr. Francois, with three of her colleagues who are Ignatian Sisters from Paris. The sisters will be opening a house a few blocks away in support of Brother Johannes and his work with the refugees.
Omar, a young Iraqi with computer repair skills, who wants to be come Christian moved into the house for a few days on Wednesday.
Thursday, we drove the two Jesuit philosophy students, Oliver and Joakim to the train station so they could return to their studies after a retreat that starts Monday. They had been with us since Sunday.
Now it is my turn to depart. Last night, as has become a tradition in the house they had a cake for me to say good bye. I should have anticipated it and prepared something to say, but as anyone who knows me will understand, I do not like being the center of attention and hoped the moment would pass. But I was genuinely moved by the words from many around the table who thanked me for my service. Even quiet Hussein, my hospital visiting buddy and translator made a speech in English. Several made remarks that were then translated into English for me.
My thoughts and words were genuine, but it also helped deflect the emotions of the moment to talk about how we can continue to work together after I return home. Perhaps leading the bible studies via Skype?
I will not miss the teargas (yesterday afternoon) the absolutely inconsistent police checks every time I was asked to drive into the Jungle, the too small kitchen for preparing meals for 30, which also serves as the crossroads of the house, or the flies.
But some of the best people on earth live in that house, all of us are flawed people to be sure, but willing to love each other in spite of our own weaknesses and the struggles with the work we do together. I will miss each one of them.
I am tired, my back hurts and I have not slept for three nights because of either bed bugs or fleas. (Bed bugs would make this an authentic Catholic Worker experience, wouldn’t it?) So it is time to go. But, as I have warned my bride, I do not return home whole. Part of me will never leave Calais and the beautiful people I have met here.
I hope to return.
Perhaps to celebrate the close of the camp and integration of its beautiful
residents into our societies.
Thy Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.