One night in January 1987, our daughter Christine, then only three years old, came to our room. Moments later, on its way back out, it hit a wall. Startled, it started crying and told us that it couldn't see anything. I helped get my baby back to his bed and the next morning I arranged an appointment with an ophthalmologist.
After a review, the doctor informed my husband, Joe, and I that Christine had a rare cancer in her eye (retinoblastoma), and that the tumors had fully grown. Both eyes have suffered significant damage – the retina in the left eye has separated by about 50 percent, and the retina in the right eye has completely separated. The good news is that only about 10 percent of those diagnosed die of the disease.
Although at this age, Christine sensed that something was wrong. Though he was an easy-going child, now he is withdrawn, fearful and indifferent. I am worried that the tumor has metastasized in the brain and this will most likely lead to its death.
The very moment this thought entered my mind, I turned to God and prayed, “If this is all over. If I had to lose my daughter, I would do my best to trust You. As a Christian, I know that You are in control. But as a mother, I ask You to please let her live.”
Radiation therapy has significantly shrunk the tumors in both of Christine's eyes. But, as predicted by the doctor, the right eye was completely destroyed by cancer, and needed to be removed. Twenty months later, a routine checkup revealed that the tumor in the left eye was growing again.
Sadly, on December 28, 1988, our four-year-old daughter lost her left eye again. My child is blind.
Heart is connected to Maria
It sounds crazy now, but one of the first things we did when our cancer was discovered was to try what we call the “Tobite Remedy.” We recall the biblical story of how Tobias cured his father, Tobit's blindness, by applying a mixture of bile and fish liver to Tobit's eyes (Tb 11:1). 14). So I went to the store and bought a whole fresh fish and made a similar paste. We invited a few people to attend as we prayed, smeared the paste on Christine's eyelids and hoped for a healing. We want to do everything!
The Tobit remedy didn't work, but the next day, as we prayed over Tobit's full story and read the commentaries, I saw something new. One commentary says that honey represents the bitterness that opens the eyes of our faith. It also says that the heart is where God and humanity meet.
Anyway, these commentaries brought my thoughts to Mary at the cross of Jesus. I remember the honey the soldiers gave to Jesus when he was born. I have seen that when I suffered for Christine, Mary suffered when she saw Jesus refuse to drink bitter gall. When I tried to bring my worries and tears to God, I found Maria doing the same thing.
As I pictured Christine being stabbed over and over with needles, I couldn't help but think of Maria watching as her Son was stabbed with nails and a sword. Again and again, I felt my soul meeting Mary's - just as the commentary explains.
Rejoice and be protected
While Christine was undergoing radiation therapy, I had to go to the hospital every day for five consecutive weeks. I have been fortunate to have nuns who come to me every day.
On the way every morning we prayed the Rosary together. That simple prayer helped me approach these remedies with some peace. It helps me cope with the fact that my daughter is about to receive, once again, another dose of intense radiation.
The mystery of the Happy Season - the one we prayed for the most - really lifted Christine's spirits. It loved to see and describe each mystery, telling us what happened in each.
To me, it was like Maria saying, “All you have to do is keep the peace. My child will do the rest. He knows every situation. You will calm my soul.” That is really comforting, especially since we don't know which way things are going yet.
One day on our way to the hospital, my friend made the mistake of running a red light and hitting another car, causing damage to both cars. It was her first accident in thirty-six years. The owner of the other car was really upset. He jumped up and said, "Look what you've done to my car."
Immediately, a woman who saw the accident went to the other man and said, “What are you so impatient for? Aren't you glad that no one was hurt? Especially the girl in the back seat?” The man immediately calmed down. Two other men came up to us and asked, “Can we help you change a flat tire for you?”
When the police arrived, he asked my friend about my friend's driving record. Then, to his surprise, he didn't issue a ticket. We went home in that crumpled car, thanking and praising God along the way, believing that Mary was watching over us.
“Maria's shawl”
Christine was terrified when she started radiation therapy. We tried to prepare it with a practice session at home: it had to lie still so that the radiation beams could be directed in the right place.
But it's hard for Christine. It cried non-stop. The thought of being completely alone with the plaster frame all over his body, while this cold machine shot radiation into his eyes was too much for him to bear. So I asked the doctor if we could take the frame home.
When we got home, I immediately went to work painting the frame in the color of Mary's shirt - blue and white, to look like the garment worn by Our Lady. We also covered a blue cloth over the frame and called it “Maria’s veil”.
We told Chrisrine that this frame made her look exactly like Maria, who became her favorite saint – “This is the ‘Maria shawl’”
From the moment she saw the frame, Christine no longer anxiously entered the telescopic room. Christine knows that Maria is with her. Christine proudly tells everyone - doctors, nurses and patients - "This is my Maria's scarf." I don't think Christine had any idea how many people were moved by its testimony.
See a bigger picture
When we started going into the hospital, I was just worried about my daughter. But that soon changed. Sitting in the children's ward day after day, I saw hundreds of young children suffering from so many diseases: holes in the heart, brain damage, cancer, leukemia, and many more.
My heart breaks to see so many brave children battling such terrible diseases. I can't do anything but pray. So I pray to Mary, ask our Mother to comfort them.
When we started with radiation therapy, I saw the same thing. This time in the oncology department, where there are a lot of elderly people, some people get a little help, some don't get help from their families. Christine was the only patient there under the age of 50. At least 20 terminal cancer patients told me, “I want to give my suffering to God for the sake of your daughter.”
Once again my heart was cut by such generous and selfless hearts. Gradually we were able to pray with some of these people, and God truly blessed us with His love and peace.
Between the children I have seen and the adults I have met, my eyes have opened to a world of suffering that I barely knew existed.
Once while sitting in the radiation ward I felt like Maria said to me, “Don't worry about Christine. I will take care of it. But look at what is happening to you. Your heart is being opened to My children who are suffering. I am becoming a more compassionate and sincere person.”
A heart for the poor
Christine is now thirty years old and has overcome all the not easy things. My daughter has a doctorate and teaches at the university level but has put aside her academic career and is dedicated to serving God. Christine spends her time working with the poor and sharing the Bible with college students.
Well-lived Christine, an adaptable young woman who has decided to live life to the fullest, and we can't help but be proud of it.
As for Joe and I, we have a few years left before we retire. Now that our children are grown and moved out, we are praying and talking about spending the rest of our days in apostolic work towards the poor and excluded from society.
We are thinking of selling the house in the suburbs and moving to a drab town so we can be among the poor. Without a doubt, what happened to us when we were faced with Christine's cancer was the main driving factor behind this decision.
That's the least we can do for Our Lady of Sorrows, who has kept us strong in our hour of need.
Tags:
catholic