Sunday, September 29, 2024, marks the big day: the very first Mass to be celebrated in Malagasy since my return to Madagascar. Accompanied by two young Malagasy nuns from the Congregation of the Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Ragusa, Léa and Mamy, we set off on foot along a sandy road toward the chapel of Bemokijy, a half-hour's walk from Morondava, to celebrate the Mass.

The local Christian community awaits us—about 35 people, mostly women and children—and their joy is evident on their faces. The key phrase of this Sunday's Good News reminds us: "If anyone gives you a cup of water to drink because you belong to Christ, then in truth I tell you, he will most certainly not lose his reward." (Mark 9:41).

At the end of the celebration, I am presented with a gift—the traditional Malagasy hat! It is immediately placed on my head. The atmosphere spontaneously turns joyful, accompanied by laughter, not just from the children but also from the adults. As we leave, it is time for the traditional group photo with the faithful, standing in front of the wooden chapel and under the shade of the large mango tree, laden with its early, succulent seasonal fruits !

We then begin our journey back to Morondava, still accompanied by Léa and Mamy, with my new Malagasy hat on my head, as we quietly walk away under the joyful gaze of the children.

As soon as I arrive in Morondava, I set off again, this time by car, with my Polish confrere, Father Pawel, who is responsible for the parish and mission. This second journey is for another celebration, during which he introduces me to the Christian community of Andranoteraka.

Upon our arrival, a group of about 70 faithful is already gathered in the wooden chapel. The assembly is predominantly women, with the number of men barely countable on one hand. Through a song, the small choir warmly welcomes me for the first time to their village. After the closing speech by the catechist and leader of the community, a young girl steps forward, on behalf of everyone, to present me with a gift—the second one of the morning, at least for me: a beautiful traditional woven basket. However, to my surprise—and his—a duck's head unexpectedly pokes out of the basket! Both of us, equally startled, are met with the inevitable applause, shared between us.

For the return to the mission, I choose to walk with another young sister and a novice from the same congregation, Sister Catherine and Hasina. We walk under the intense heat of over 30 degrees Celsius, for 45 minutes, along a scorching sandy road between noon and 1 p.m. ... !

A few days later, on Wednesday morning, I join my Malagasy confrere, Father Bruno, the director of the Catholic school dedicated to our founder, St. Eugene de Mazenod, in Tsimahavaobe, still in Morondava. We are there to take part in the initiative "A Glass of Milk for the Students".

Observing the dedication of the women preparing for the event, a passage from the Gospel comes to mind: the Wedding at Cana (John 2:1-11). The context, of course, is quite different—we are not at a wedding but in the courtyard of a large school, ranging from preschool to high school. Instead of wedding guests, there are hundreds of students of all ages.

At Cana, "They have no wine." In Morondava, neither—thankfully! In schools, wine is strictly prohibited, and most of the students are minors anyway !

The women do their best to carry out the instructions given by the director. Under the shed, instead of "six stone jars, each holding about a hundred liters... for the Jewish rites of purification," there are three large pots over a wood fire, each containing about twenty liters of water to prepare snacks for the young children and students, both Christian and non-Christian.

As for recess, "The hour has not yet come" but the children, standing patiently in single file, await the sound of the bell to enter the shed and receive their glass of milk.

The women work tirelessly: some tend to the pots, watching the fire to ensure the water boils, while others carefully mix powdered milk (Humana Expert SL, made in Germany) in large basins and buckets, stirring to avoid lumps. At the sound of the bell, the beautiful moment finally arrives: the warm, sweetened milk is poured into basins and buckets. "And they filled them to the brim. Now draw some out and take it to all the students."

During the long wait, the students "did not know where this warm, sweet milk had come from, but those who were serving knew, they who had drawn and heated the water." At the wedding in Cana, "the master of the feast, tasting the water turned into wine (and not in vain...), calls the bridegroom."

In Morondava, all the students who tasted the water turned into warm, sweet milk—and not in vain either—called for the director to receive a second glass. This was the beginning of a simple gesture performed for the joy and happiness of about 800 students, from preschoolers to high school seniors. I might dare to say—positively speaking—that everyone joined in the wedding feast ! And yet, in Morondava that morning, there was no wedding celebration. Sometimes, it takes so little to bring a moment of joy to children and make them happy.

This is one of the countless fruits of the authenticity of the Good News: "If anyone gives you a cup of water to drink because you belong to Christ, then in truth I tell you, he will most certainly not lose his reward." (Mark 9:41).

« Go and invite everyone you can find to come to the wedding ! » (Mt 22, 9).

Fr. Alfonso Bartolotta omi