It was there that I began to see the world through the eyes of women from other countries whose people had suffered enormously at the hands of U.S. foreign policy. And it was there that I came in contact with returning Peace Corp Volunteers and Papal Volunteers for Latin American, young Americans whose eyes had been opened by their experience, and who came to understand that the work for global peace and justice must begin in our own country.

Some years later, in May of 1998, I had the opportunity to travel to Iraq with 83 other Americans to bring in medicine and medical supplies and to challenge the sanctions. . . sanctions which we knew were responsible for the deaths of 3,500 - 5,000 children a month. Many of you know my story -- you have heard me speak about the children dying from dysentery and diarrhea because they had been poisoned by contaminated water; children dying from respiratory infections, which had become full body infections, because they had no anti-biotics; children dying due to a lack of vitamins, and from illnesses and cancers not seen before the first Gulf War in 1991. I looked into the eyes of those mothers and their children. It is something I will never forget. And it was life-changing.

It was also at that time that I met an Iraqi American, who at great personal risk, spoke out against the sanctions and later the war and occupation of Iraq - his name was Sami Rasouli. Many of you also know Sami’s story -- that after his mother died, he went back to Iraq to visit his family. For the next year Sami couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t work, he couldn’t eat . . . all he could think about was his family and the devastation he had seen. In November 2004, Sami returned to Iraq with a commitment to stay in Iraq for five years . . . not only to help his people, but also to bring back their stories in order to make a connection between his two countries. And today, because of the vision of this church, we at St. Joan of Arc are working toward building a peaceful, supportive and interactive relationship with the people of Iraq. . . through Sami’s annual speaking tour, our support of the Muslim Peacemaker Team, the Iraq-Minnesota Art Project, and the Letters for Peace Project, a letter writing project between the children of Iraq and the children of the United States.

I will close with a message we recently received from our friends in Iraq. “Dear Minnesotans, We are sorry for the bridge accident. You are in our thoughts and prayers. Karbala Artists in Iraq. Muslim Peacemaker Teams.”

Rita Nohner

As a member of the delegation, I was part of the group of ten people greeted with hugs and kisses when we first arrived at the church in TNII. Many people crowded the gathering space to welcome us. We were invited to sit and, one by one, community members stood and welcomed us with thanksgiving for our safe arrival and delight at having us there. We also took our turn, standing one by one, introducing ourselves and offering greetings. After all the speeches, I stepped outside for some cool air, and that’s when I met Josefina and Blanca. Within minutes of meeting them, they began showing me the alphabet in Guatemalan Sign Language. Many years ago, I was enrolled in an American Sign Language Interpreter program in St. Paul. Imagine their surprise when I quickly signed back the ASL alphabet. An immediate bond was formed.

Throughout our time in TNII, I constantly had Josefina or Blanca with an arm around my waist or a hand in mine. It was an incredible feeling to have these two young girls love me with such intensity, and my heart responded in kind. They offered me love, freely given, with no hope of anything but love in return. In a land of material poverty, I encountered a spiritual richness beyond anything I had ever encountered before. It is a feeling that is impossible to describe. But it is so good.

At the end of our visit there, we had a farewell party in the same community room in which we had been welcomed at the beginning of the week. Josefina, Blanca and I huddled, with heads together, full out sobbing, missing each other terribly already. Earlier in the day, Blanca had slipped a little gold ring on my finger – un regalo (a gift) for me. No expectation of anything in return; just a remembrance of our friendship. As our delegation prepared to leave, I had a few last moments with the girls and their friends. That is when Josefina asked me for my earrings. I was taken by surprise, because it was so out of character for her to ask me for anything. The guidelines for Sister Parish include the directive that this visit is not about things, but about relationships so gift-giving is highly discouraged. Giving gifts, no matter how modest by our standards, can set up expectations that can create jealousies and erode the foundation of the Sister Parish relationship.

So when Josefina asked me for my earrings, I said no. I really wanted to give them to her, but I had nothing for Blanca or the other girls, and the discouragement of gift-giving is a good policy and one I understand. But my heart was torn. I approached another delegate asking him what I should do. He thought for a moment and then said “I think it’s ok to follow your heart.” Josefina came over a moment later to hug me, and I quietly placed the earrings in her hand. We held on to one another, not wanting to say the last goodbye, but finally it was time to get in the van. As I took my seat, I heard Josefina call my name. I turned to look at her - she held out her hand and placed something in mine, saying “un regalo.” It was my earrings.

I thought of the courage it must have taken her to ask me for them just so she could have something to give me. Every gift I had ever given or received was suddenly put in perspective, and I found my heart truly transformed in the receiving of her gift of love.