A Christmas letter.  The cart – or one like it –pulled by their donkey –(not shown)   that carried Pregnant Mary with St Joseph walking alongside  from Nazareth to Bethlehem, those nine days,  where Jesus was born – protected by the Angels/ witnessed by the Magi & the Shepherds    
 

During the last 55 years that I have been ‘stumbling, walking un-surely along rickety half mended wooden walkways in the slums of Bangkok’, I’ve never seen or heard of it being named a national emergency crisis – that means: no education of 3 to 6 year old slum orphans and daily slippery slope of being abandoned - those ‘dumped along the path, losing their moms & dads’. Welcome to the savage world of abandonment - no education - a slum orphan. 

The Klong Toey slaughterhouse - all of Klong Toey - was and is a savage place – we have tried to drench that savageness in the mercy of love and education and prayer for 55 years.

The kids – whose moms washed the pig guts each night in the slaughterhouse also asked to learn to read and write, so they could teach their kids for a brighter tomorrow. Maybe their kids could do better but there wasn’t much interest from the ‘higher ups’. Clean pig guts were urgent - education was not.

Then it changed.  A thrown away old book pretty much destroyed by wind & rain (been there forever) on the side of the road.

Thailand Mother’s Day weekend & all of our Mercy Centre kids/kindergarten kids  dressed up - fancy party ‘prancing/dancing beautiful’ - you know…second hand best high class rags. 

Our fabulous ‘of an age’ sewing lady sews up the rips & patches, (we washed all the donated stuff twice: you know, the donated throw-aways) and some of the used stuff - washed, pressed & ironed are pretty good look’n rags) for our dance/music kids party this morning.  

But even the best used clothes, patched & cleaned, ‘can’t stand in’- take the place of a missing mom. Even a wildflower picked by a slum pathway - borrowed from a shrine - and placed wherever your momma dumped you that horrible day. Where she left you standing alone, telling you “I’ll be right back.  You wait right here.”  In front of an abandoned building. Along the railway tracks - wherever…   

But horror of horrors, over half - almost fifty kids - came alone to our party; no mom in sight anywhere. In fact, no mom on the planet.  Really.  None at all.

My eyes filled with tears - so many of our kids; kindergarten sized - especially at that age really hurt without a mom to hug, give a blossom to - a wild weed really, but pretty, also like an orphan - growing alone, along the slum pathway.  

But you make do with what you can. Like our nearly six-year-old Miss Kao Fang (Brown Rice) not the prettiest name on the chart, but who cares. She is natures’ beauty; untouched - never heard of cosmetics, no perfume, no powder, no none at all, but beautiful Thai-Lao complexion.  Total wardrobe:  one set of clothing (that which she is wearing) pretty, like you would want her to be. Named after a single solitary rice stalk - sturdy - in a field alone. 
 

Here is new  110 seconds with Father Joe. Hope you like it…..

Dear family, hither & yon 

You’ve heard it said: we don’t have friends, only family, & so many of us, all of us, when you think about it ,  Mick welcomed  into his Irish family.  It’s like:  the door is always open:  tea at four in the afternoon.  You do not  need to knock. 

We, his personal family, which was truly also his musical family.    Not only of the Irish jigs & reels but he truly knew the heart-beat, lyrics, the melody the songs which told 
his own history and thus the history of Ireland from “The Rising of the Moon to the Ryan Road” to mention just a couple.  
 
 

Dear everyone       
 
To light a pair of candles: A Catholic candle lite by me the priest and a Buddhist candle lite by the Abbot just as we did, with our beloved Sister Maria standing by, 50 years ago. Seeking Protection & Blessing from our Blessed Mother Mary, Mother of Jesus whose statue stands tall in our poverty-stricken Catholic chapel under the bridge next to the slaughterhouse & a candle from the Buddhist Temple directly across the canal. 
 
To light candles seeking special heavenly protection and blessing once again officially begging heaven for our slum slaughterhouse
children. School is now in Session. Just as ‘we begin school ’in an un-used holding pen for pigs, with our first six slaughterhouse kindergarten boys and girls those 50 years ago. Slum Slaughterhouse kindergarten is once more back in session.