True Gifts

The following is a reflection written by Hilary Froelich, one of this year's North House Volunteers. She shared this as a part of the North House community's Pentecost Reflections, which took place May 20th.

You know how you walked through all of your classes before the first day, peeking into the classrooms, mapping out where you would sit, how fast you would have to walk to get from one class to the next? When it comes time to actually go there, you already know what you’re doing, where you’re going. That’s how I felt walking up to North House on that first day of August. I was confident. Confident in both who I was as a person and how I thought I would live out my life this year, and also in the position I thought I would have at my service site. It was like my class list was already memorized. My life here in Chicago would be an extension of the incredible year I had just finished at John Carroll – the one where I found myself through singing, prayer, and every campus ministry activity known to students. It was my turn to be the campus minister, to provide my students at Jospehinum Academy with the peace and enlightenment I had received from campus ministry, to use my quiet leadership and listening skills to connect with my housemates. As Saint Ignatius would say, I was ready to “go forth and set the world on fire.”

My fire started to turn into brightly lit coals, however, as I discovered that many high school girls aren’t using their faith life as a main topic of conversation. My attempts to start a youth group failed. Finding girls who would willingly stand up at the podium during Mass to read was almost impossible and the Sacred Silence I had found so important during Mass at John Carroll was filled with muffled chatter and giggles. That perfect image I had of this year being an extension of last year? – not so perfect. I found myself feeling both restless and hopeful as the year continued. I knew I was supposed to be at Josephinum, but my heart felt like it was constantly searching for something more, some sort of bigger fulfillment. I started spending more time in classrooms and less time in the front office, hoping to figure out just what it was that these girls needed in order to open up their hearts to faith and spirituality. I didn’t find anything to help them in their faith, but they certainly helped me.

My relationships with the girls began to blossom. I realized they didn’t need me to be a campus minister; they just needed my listening ear. Every day I was hearing about boy problems, school struggles, what they were doing over the weekend. My heart was being opened up for them, and I was drinking in all of their words, trying to love them as best as I could. I don’t know that I realized it as it was happening, but when I started working on retreats for each grade level second semester I knew what the girls would want, what sort of activities were going to be beneficial to them, which reflections and prayers would help them to open their minds and hearts. I’m not sure where this new courage and faith came from, but it was something I knew I needed to embrace and explore. I didn’t need to be the all-star campus minister; everything with campus ministry didn’t need to go perfectly to my plan. I just needed to be whatever my students needed me to be – a listener, a supporter, a shoulder to cry on, or a smiling face. My time at Josephinum has been a journey. I’ve walked with many people, but the Holy Spirit has always been by my side. It’s sometimes hard to recognize those difficult moments, where all you feel is lost, as a moment of grace, pointing you back towards the Lord. In Luke 24:13-35, we hear about the Road to Emmaus. The two men walking were filled with grief because the Lord had been gone; they didn’t realize that the man walking with them was, in fact, Jesus. Jesus has been walking with me throughout my year at Josephinum, I just needed the fire in my students’ eyes to recognize He was there.