Crying With Those Who Cry
Fr. Sullivan had his first encounter with Pope John Paul II in 1986 and three things still echo in his memory. The first is that Pope John Paul II had calloused hands and a strong handshake. He must have known hard labor, thought Fr. Sullivan, not yet knowing his history. The second thing is that he was joyful and had a good sense of humor. But this wasn’t the phony kind of smile for a photo. It was a genuine happiness and security about life that overflowed onto everyone present. The third thing that still resounds is that when this man of importance began to converse with you, he gave you his total attention and made you the important one. His concern for you was focused and undivided. He was not in a rush. He was not distracted with other business. Once he turned to you, it seemed that you were all that mattered to him.
This saintly man’s great compassion for others was forged through personal tragedy. When Karol Wojtyla was only nine years old his mother died while giving birth. Shortly afterward his older brother died too. These shock waves left Karol in a state of great loss and sadness. In his misery, a Catholic priest offered him compassion and opened the doors of education to him. Like the waves from a stone dropped into a stream, that one act of compassion would ripple out to touch millions, for the boy this priest befriended possessed one of the most dynamic and fruitful minds of our age. Karol would become an actor, poet, playwright, philosopher, theologian, university professor, linguist, great orator, political genius and pope. And all this could be traced back to a priest’s simple act of befriending a child in need.
Ten years later tragedy struck again. In the midst of the birth pangs of World War II, Karol’s father died, leaving him to hew stones in a quarry and finish his studies under the dim lights of the late hours of night. As if these trials were not enough to endure, Karol barely escaped death not once, but twice. He was knocked down by a streetcar and fractured his skull. And then only a few months later, he narrowly escaped being crushed to death by a truck.
It was during his months of recovery that the mysterious work of grace moved in the depths of Karol’s soul, giving birth to the priest, the man of God. As he lay in bed recovering, he reflected on his childhood, his purpose in life, and the inescapable call of God. In imitation of the compassionate priest he once knew as a broken child, he too would surrender to God’s call to become a compassionate priest for others.
As the pope, Karol Wojtyla became a man consumed with the love of God, a raging fire which no borders could contain. Early in his pontificate he gave signs of his burning desire to visit and preach the truth to the entire world. Planning to put in many years of hard work, he built a swimming pool in the Vatican. To those who complained that this was a waste of money, he simply replied that it was cheaper to build a pool than to hold another conclave. (A meeting of the world’s cardinals to elect a new pope in the event of a pope’s death.) He then began traveling and never stopped. Some cardinals complained that he traveled too much. They were always concerned about the disordered backlog of office work. To this, Pope John Paul II said that sometimes it was necessary to do too much. It was necessary to personally proclaim the truth to the world’s multitudes hungry for it.
As Pope John Paul II’s wonderful life was born where tragedy and a priest met, so was Ruth’s painting. It promises to be an extraordinary masterpiece that not only reflects a person’s life by brush strokes on canvas, but by the very way it was born, by a tragedy and a priest’s act of compassion.
The tragedy occurred the morning of September 11, 2001. The World Trade Center Towers in New York collapsed after being hit by airliners in the hands of terrorists. In the ensuing confusion and chaos, two people who otherwise would never have met crossed paths. One was Kathy Curiel of West Covina, California, and the other was Fr. Sullivan, a Catholic priest from Rome. Without this pivotal encounter the painting would never have been produced.
That morning Fr. Sullivan had been scheduled to leave Los Angeles on his way back to Rome. He was packed and ready to go when someone called him to come quickly to the living room. There he joined a family in disbelief as everyone stared at the television. But rather than hang around the house glued to the TV that morning, Fr. Sullivan decided to go to a nearby church in West Covina and pray.
It was there he first met Kathy, a struggling hairdresser originally from Long Island, New York. As she had a family to care for, and made herself available to help anyone in need, she seldom had much time to herself. Kathy was an upbeat person, full of spirit, but it seemed her life had completely fallen apart that morning. She had come to church in tears and desperate for help. Yet, even though she was in great anguish, nobody seemed to be offering her a hand. So Fr. Sullivan approached her and asked if she needed to talk. He soon learned that Kathy’s brother had likely died in one of the collapsed towers.
The tragedy made Kathy reflect deeply on her past, bringing about a real conversion in her life. Fr. Sullivan had just happened to walk in at the exact moment when she needed a priest. By the end of their long talk, she had been renewed by God and had found peace and direction in her life. Although she still had a crisis to deal with, she now had a boost of faith to help carry her through it, to give her the strength she needed to go to New York and search for her brother, hoping that he may have survived.
On that same tragic day, only a couple hours' drive away at Laguna Beach, Ruth Mayer displayed her “I Love New York” painting in her storefront window. She was so moved by the unfolding of events that morning that she just had to put the painting out front as a sign of hope and solidarity with the people of New York.
This painting is an exhilarating cityscape of the New York City skyline painted for the new millennium. It was first exhibited at the New York Art Expo 2000. By an intuitive inspiration, she had painted a great angel with outstretched arms surrounding the World Trade Center. In the aftermath of the tragedy it was certainly a prophetic vision. Such inspirations and additions are characteristic of Ruth’s work.
By the end of that day a sign had been placed before the painting, “God Bless America.” People came with lit candles, placing them before the painting in memory of those who had lost their lives in the attacks.
A Tapestry of Lives and Missions
A few days later, Kathy finally made her way to New York where she discovered that her brother had in fact died. This news caused a new wave of almost unbearable grief to fill her soul. As hard as it seemed to go on in the face of it, she did, drawing ever closer to God and remembered always in the prayers of the compassionate priest who had comforted her that fateful morning.
In the meantime, after returning to Rome, something quite unexpected happened to Fr. Sullivan. In the spring of 2002, he and another priest were handed the assignment of spearheading a $20 million fundraising campaign to erect a training center in Rome for apostles who could be relied upon to be sent anywhere in the world at a moment’s notice according to the needs of the Holy Father and the Church. Pope John Paul II had given his special approval for such a group of apostles to be trained and headquartered in Rome.
By the summer of 2002, with the blessing of the Holy Father, Fr. Sullivan and Fr. Knoll had arrived in the United States. These two priests were armed with a letter of support from the pope’s personal secretary and supporting documents from no less than seven cardinals. With this backing, and with letters sent by various cardinals beforehand, they began visiting people to seek their leadership and support for their historic project.
The whole fundraising challenge was a lesson in learning how to trust in God’s providence. From the beginning of their work, Fr. Sullivan and Fr. Knoll were shown that God would give them what they needed, not according to their plan, but God’s own. He would lead them in His mysterious way.
Fr. Sullivan told me of the first of many incidents after they arrived in the United States which began to open their eyes to this truth. At a large Catholic conference in Wichita, Kansas the two priests quickly made their first two million dollars. While they were on a break during the conference, Fr. Knoll had confidently said that God was going to help them get their first big donation that very day. He had fervently begged God to give them a head start with a million-dollar donation. At the very moment Fr. Knoll was saying these things two bills floated down from the ceiling and landed right in front of them. They picked up the phoney bills and each held a million dollars in their hands! They had made their first two million and had a good laugh. Fr. Sullivan remarked to Fr. Knoll that the next time he prayed for money, he ought to specify real money. Apparently some kids up in a balcony way above the conference floor had a hearty laugh at the whole gag. So began the subtle lessons on how to follow wherever God may lead.
Around the same time the two priests had been gearing up for action in Rome, Kathy had made her way to Laguna Beach, where she found several hours to relax. She decided to take a walk in this beautiful seaside town and forget about her troubles.
As Kathy passed by Ruth Mayer’s art gallery she caught sight of the lively and colorful paintings displayed in the window. She couldn’t help but stop and stare. The same thing happens to many people. Kathy was irresistibly drawn inside where, for a few refreshing hours, she became lost in a breath-taking world of art. She proceeded to carefully study each painting until finally, in the back room of the gallery, Kathy discovered the now nationally-known “I Love New York” painting.
In it the towers stood tall and majestic. With its extraordinary mixture of colors and light, its subtle inspirational undercurrents, a passerby could contemplate this painting for hours on end. Tears came to Kathy’s eyes when she noticed the faint image of a smiling angel with his arms outstretched as if protecting the towers. For Kathy the experience was a reassuring sign of God’s providential care for her brother. That day Kathy and Ruth became instant friends.
Continuing their journey in pursuit of real funds for their project, Fr. Sullivan and Fr. Knoll came through Los Angeles. They had a list of moneyed people to visit. But Fr. Sullivan had not forgotten the young woman he met September 11th, so they took an evening off from fundraising appointments to join Kathy and her family for dinner.
Ripples of Grace in the Stream of Life
During the evening, Kathy told the priests about Ruth Mayer and her own experience at the art gallery. She showed them some printed samples of Ruth’s paintings and in the end suggested that they meet Ruth. Kathy thought that perhaps they could even ask Ruth to do a painting for their project. Figuring that it could not hurt to ask, the two priests decided to allow Kathy to introduce them to her new-found artist friend one Sunday afternoon.
It so happened that one aspect of the priest’s daunting project was to establish boys’ and girls’ towns for children who had either lost their parents or had been abandoned by them. The new group of apostles approved by the Holy See, which Fr. Sullivan and Fr. Knoll represented, already had houses to care for such needy children in Ukraine, Russia, India and Nigeria. But these boys’ and girls’ towns were in serious need of funding to improve and expand their operations, to allow for much greater numbers of children to be helped.
What are these boys’ and girls’ towns? The boys’ town near L’viv, Ukraine offers an example of how abandoned children are given a new lease on life. Maxim came to the boys’ town at thirteen, after growing up on the streets. He spent most of his childhood either begging or stealing to survive. Hidden alleys and abandoned houses were his night refuge for years on end. Sadly, Maxim had never even seen his father, and his mother was so enslaved by alcoholism she could not care for him. Soon after entering boys’ town, Maxim’s mother died of cirrhosis of the liver.
Today, after five years at the boys’ town, Maxim is nineteen and a new person filled with high ideals and great hopes for the future. The boys’ town gave Maxim what he sorely needed his whole life, a family that cared for him. Here he received love and discipline, medical and emotional help, and private tutoring to catch up with his education. Presently Maxim is about to enter college and is preparing for the day when he will run a boys’ town to help hundreds of other youth living on the streets. The goal of the boys’ and girls’ towns is to form, from children who have lost everything, the responsible and generous-hearted leaders of tomorrow.
As Fr. Sullivan and Fr. Knoll enjoyed a traffic-free Sunday morning drive to Laguna Beach it became clear what they ought to do. Why not ask Ruth to do a painting representing the life and pontificate of Pope John Paul II, with the proceeds directed toward the development of the boys’ and girls’ towns? Her painting could help fund the training of boys’ and girls’ town leaders on an international level. This idea made sense for many reasons: as a youth the pope had lost his parents; it was a Catholic priest who reached out and helped provide an education for him; a fresh portrait of the pope had timing on its side because many people greatly admired him and would appreciate a beautiful portrayal of his life in their homes, especially as the pope seems to be nearing the end of his pontificate. The only remaining question was: would Ruth do it? As you already know, she did not hesitate in saying yes.
For those who have faith, this story is an example of God’s infinite wisdom. For those without faith, there’s no adequate explanation of how so much good can come from tragedy. I believe God chose Ruth to do this painting long ago. Knowing so well how generously He had gifted Ruth and for what purpose, He saved this special painting for her hand. How else would you explain how two priests from Rome, carrying letters from the pope’s personal secretary and seven cardinals, showed up on her doorstep with a special mission for her?
When I reflect on this story I see the mysterious power in a simple act of compassion. It is truly like a stone plunging into the water radiating endless ripples of good things for others. In this case, befriending Kathy in her moment of crisis will end up spreading ripples of compassion to thousands of children throughout the world.
When John Paul II was a nine-year-old boy he lost his mother and received someone’s compassion in an act that rippled through his whole life. It grew. It eventually persuaded him to do great things for others. It expanded into the formation of a man who has traveled almost a million miles to bring the Good News to others. No man in the history of the world has personally encountered and preached to so many people as Pope John Paul II, a circle of blessings spread across the world, from a tragedy, through a priest, and now to a painting.
Anyone interested in owning a copy of the print when the painting is completed can contact Ruth Mayer at info@ruthmayer.com.
© Copyright 2004 Catholic Exchange
