What made this young Goan woman who had “everything”—wealth, freedom, doting parents, a college degree, tempting marriage proposals—give it all up (upsetting her parents a great deal), and find happiness working among scavengers and other dispossessed? Read the story of Sister Theresa Viegas PBVM, in her own words.
I was the pet of my small family, known for obedience and simplicity. Being the daughter of a flourishing businessman of the time, I did have a taste of a luxurious upbringing. A second daughter with no son in the family, I was expected to take up the son’s role. During my high school days. I spent half of my evenings climbing trees and racing with boys. I was a live wire that would hardly settle down. Though I studied in a convent school, I was not impressed by the nuns.
Things began to churn within when I was asked by my mother: Would I have the courage of St. Rita who walked over her two sons to embrace religious life when she heard God calling her? The spirit of the young girl took a U-turn and I began to feel the emptiness deep within. Hundreds of questions about the future haunted and made me to run away from all that would be mine. I began to feel an aversion towards material goods and developed a great empathy towards the poor.
I was too frightened to open up to any of my family members, as I knew I would be mocked at for this choice. There is no history of anyone becoming a religious from the families of both my parents. On completing the higher secondary, I expressed my desire to embrace religious life, only to see the fury of my father, who always felt that I would be the one to perpetuate the name of the family. Since he was highly diabetic and a heart patient, everyone said that my leaving the house would take him to the grave. My mother pleaded with me to complete my graduation; if my vocation was strong, she said, she would help me to fulfill my dream. Trusting her promise, I began my college studies.
Freedom, fun and a tough choice: I drove a car to the college and enjoyed excessive freedom. Speeding with the bike and playing to the tune of electrical guitars meant the thrill of those years. I was to be sent for a world tour only to entice me to the world, but the inner emptiness and the fathomless calling grew stronger, louder and clearer. My heart never found a bonding with my college friends. At times, all disturbed, I bunked classes and spent hours in a Carmelite monastery. Now, as I understand, those were my best prayer moments. I loitered on the streets of the city alone, trying to find the purpose and meaning for my life, but there was only one answer.
On completing my graduation I began getting marriage proposals. At times I escaped saying, “Sorry I have someone in mind.” I wondered if they were interested in the girl or in her wealth. The worst betrayal was when my mother endorsed one proposal as the best choice; my father had made that decision. I felt totally shattered, knowing that the wedding date was fixed without my knowledge.
The PBVM Sisters played a major role in storming heaven for me. I was advised by a priest counselor either to run away from home or to negate at the altar. I felt both options too crude and unacceptable. I applied for all job vacancies and said that, if I get a job, that would be the perfect sign for my future path.
When I realized that there were three more girls joining, I expressed my burning desire to leave home along with them. At this, all hell broke loose in the family. My father took to drinking. My mother had a heart attack. This time, however, nothing could hold me back. I had to turn my little heart into a rock. A few family members consoled my mother saying that I would definitely return home in a month’s time; for the convent walls were not meant for a girl who was often seen racing with boys.
The day I left home, my father had to be kept on sedation and he never saw me off.With a strong hope of having me back, he never shaved till I made my final commitment. He shut down his business, since he felt cheated and lost. Five days after leaving home, I had a call for a permanent bank job. Wow! This proved to me how well God knows to play His trump cards.
Thirty years have passed by and I recall that auspicious day in my adolescence when I left my loved ones and all the glamorous future that could be mine, in exchange for a burning desire to be a missionary, where I would be wedded to poverty. I had no clue what chastity and obedience meant. Leaving all that was good and familiar behind, has been a death experience. I always experienced a sense of hostility from my earthly father, and felt like a misfit in the family, and I do not know if he was ever reconciled to the fact that his daughter is a religious.
Privileged to serve the poorest: I have been privileged to spend most of my life in challenging areas of North India, among the very poor—twelve years among scavengers and eight years with rag-pickers. Material poverty has always attracted me to cling to Christ. To be in solidarity with those made poor, listening to people and living with those who have only tears for their bread has taught me what it means to be rich in Christ. The words of St. Paul(Phil. 3: 8-14), “I count everything as rubbish because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ” keep echoing in my being. Training the ego to allow the One for whose sake I have lost everything to blossom in me has brought in a tremendous joy over the years.
‘Letting go and letting God’ has been a tough task. Self-denial and yet being cheerful has shown me what heaven on earth can be. God has shown his care for me through many simple people.
Some years ago, a handicapped man was struggling to cross a busy street, and he was being abused for holding up the traffic. I helped him to get his tricycle across the drainage. He turned back with a twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his wrinkled face and whispered, “You definitely must be a Christian, for only Christ feels for the other.” I felt a deep sense of fulfillment to be recognized as Christ in a totally non-Christian place. Another time, the owner of a supermarket told me, “Each time you come to my store, I find a unique blessing and peace within.”Shanthi, a slum dweller, told the supervisor of a funding agency, “We have not seen what God Is… yet seeing sister’s concern for us, I have come to understand who God must be.” Recently a Sardarji told me, “My wife blushes and feels rejuvenated when she hears you.” If I have been a source of joy for at least a few, then my life is not spent in vain.
As I go back memory lane, I thank God for all the experiences I have had. There has never been a dull moment in my life. I always feel energized to reach out to anyone in need. There is always more to give.
Religious life has freed me from the slavery of possessions. I have achieved the spirituality of “enoughness.” Accepting each person and every situation with joy and cheerfulness, knowing that everything in life is passing, yet trusting God and giving my best self in whatever was asked of me for the past twenty-seven years has been the secret of my happy religious life. I always felt I must be worthy of my parents’ sacrifice. I have experienced ecstasy and agony, thorns and thistles, friendships and lonesomeness. With Christ as the centre, no storm has been too great. If there were another chance to live, I would again opt for a life of loving service for Christ and for His humanity.
Sr. Theresa Viegas PBVM
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