What would you like to know about St. Joan of Arc? Do you have a story about our parish or of general interest that you think others would like to hear? For story ideas, contact Jeff Rholl, jeff@stjoan.com.

Writing and Living the "Stories of Grace"
... A Final(?) Installment

(The following article was written by webreporter Ronnie Angelus as an email to our webmaster. It tells a story about how getting involved can be both a rewarding and an consuming experience. She agreed to publish it as our "final" story in a 6 part series called "Stories of Grace". We say "final" because there are many more stories to tell at Grace House. Perhaps another writer will renew the series or perhaps Ronnie will return to it. This has been an extremely popular series. For now, then, our final "Story of Grace"- Editor)

An Open Letter to our Webmaster:

Ronnie Angelus says: "There are three things that make my life work: Talking to my daughter who opens vistas to me and makes me laugh; being in the circle of the Divas, my writing group, who shout "go girl" and give me standing ovations with their smiles and tears; sitting next to Mary and Claude Paradis during Sunday Mass at St. Joan of Arc, which is as close to pure goodness as I will know in this lifetime."
I wish I could answer your question about when the next Story of Grace would be ready. The stories, like the place, seem to have a life of their own and are amorphous, or whatever that word is.

I've been thinking that I could write a story with the disease as the main character. Because it takes so many forms and each of the stories of grace at Grace House is affected by it in different ways. Two of the men have serious neurological disorders -- they range from almost total paralysis, to a minor partial recovery from same to a daily deterioration which affects communication in writing and to some extent in speech in another man. One day there is triumph and then weakness.

Theodore falls and breaks his hip, in the garden of all places, after his amazing recovery from the back surgery and the hope that the persistent pain would actually cease. People have good days and bad -- some will talk about it and some won't. One man found a deep religious experience with the Jehovah Witnesses and feels saved and the salvation has made it incumbent upon him to renounce who he has been, and maybe is. But he is joyfully getting ready to be baptized in a huge auditorium. He will undergo the rigors of the experience although some days it if hard for him to move.

The stories of grace have taken on a life of their own. I could write about Michelle. She's a catalyst of the grace some of the residents have found. She's the Director of volunteers, caregivers and God knows what all. She's, also as I've been told, a "world class athlete" whose pictures line the walls of Augsburg College showing her exploits. She's got multi colored dred locks, wears safari shorts and can talk like an MBA who's in charge of a major division of General Electric; who can write with power and grace and has a spirituality that makes even taking out the garbage and rubbish an exercise in love; love of the universe, the environment and the ritual of recycling back into the earth the gifts it gives us.

I could write about each of them. They've been cutting into my soul, these people of Grace House. Patrick and Mary Jo and Nancy, and voices I've heard when I've called and John whose quiet presence brings confidence and whose description of the disease left the visitors from Guatemala gently informed and humbled and bowed low. And me with them.

The volunteers. Many of them have been coming faithfully week after week, since the program began. They have laughed and talked with, and learned to love, so many of the residents. They have sorrowfully buried some of these good souls; applauded and cheered as some grew in strength and went back into unassisted living (if there is any such thing). They've met people who knew how to love and some steeped in anger and dejection and on rare occasions, someone who was downright mean. Y'know, it's like they say, "Wherever you go there you are." Usually it's true. The men and women are who they are. The disease lives its own life and sometimes transforms and changes them.

It is too raw right now for me to write any more. I have a wedding to go to at Grace House in June. I need the celebration. We're starting a new series of writing groups next week. I need to be back there, to be nourished and refreshed. I carry deep in me something someone said to me about the stories. "I used to think of HIV/AIDS as a separate thing, a terrible disease, out there somewhere. But now it has faces -- it is William and Theodore and Charli and Clifford." That's a huge thing to think about. It makes my gratitude to them and love for them even deeper. It was their courage that gave the "face" to AIDS.

For now, this is the last story of grace. And surprisingly to me, it is my own.

"Stories of Grace"
"Let us build this place out of truth and Grace"

Epilogue:

This was the sixth in a series of stories about the people of Grace House. They are the residents and staff, the volunteers and occasional drop-ins -- the people who fill the house with grace. These are first and foremost, though, the stories of the residents: Stories of the men and women who live daily with HIV/AIDS and are triumphant; stories of their lives and how they came to Grace House; stories of the difference the houses and the staff have meant in terms of health, dignity and joy.

The original Grace House was opened in 1990, the brainchild of an AIDS taskforce through Saint Joan of Arc Church. The church agreed to lease the building to Grace House for a nominal sum. Church parishioners provided lots of the physical labor to turn the home into a facility to serve the particular needs of people with AIDS. These volunteers renovated the space, painted rooms and made the home accessible, including installing an elevator. In these early years, all of the caregiving was provided by volunteers from the church. By the next year, the need for professional, hired staff was apparent and the first paid caregivers were hired. Volunteers continued to be a big part of providing care to the residents.

By 1994, the AIDS epidemic was rampant. The directors of Grace House decided to explore the idea of opening a second home next door to the original Grace House. Grace House II was opened in May of 1998. It was designed by the architecture firm of David Goehring/Joel May. It is a graceful combination of light woods and open spaces, large windows and a profusion of plants.

What I have always found in the houses is laughter. The residents, as physically comfortable as their disease allows them to be, live in their own apartments with dear and familiar things around them. They meet in community for meals with other residents, with volunteers and caregivers. There is a sense of family, of people who care very much for the well being of each other.

It is these people of Grace House, open and willing to talk to me, I want to learn more about and then tell their stories to you. Nelson Mandela says these stories must not be lost. Sometimes they are little stories of little lives. Sometimes they seem painted by a bold brush with vivid colors and raw design. They are stories, like all of ours, a mixture of foolish and heroic; stories too of painful loss and astonishing gain, because these are the stories of survivors. These are not just the stories of the residents, although theirs are the first to be told, but of all of the people who care for them; all of the people who take a step away from their everyday lives, to take the risk of caring and staying steady in the face of pain and loss. People who receive in abundance the gifts of sharing and the magic of laughter and life.

Other Stories of Grace



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