Diary of a Ghetto Priest | A baby baptised in prison at Christmas

On December 17, Missionaries of the Poor had our Christmas treat at The South Camp Road Correctional Centre. The new location for female prisoners is what was Gun Court, where men were condemned without trial.

I was amazed at the respect and gentleness of the women. We were there for some six hours. The brothers gave homilies on God's love, mercy and kindness. Despite the straightforwardness in speaking about sins, the women, who were by and large older than the brothers, were docile - expressing sorrow about their wrongs, about their need for change, and about their fears.

There have been murders, violent beatings, anger, loss of temper, jealousy, frustrations. There was also sadness that they would not be with their loved ones. One or two said they did nothing wrong, but most confessed the evil they had done.

We prayed, sang Christmas songs and read the scriptures. It was spontaneous and full of joy. The brothers played musical instru-ments and gave out Christmas gifts. There was so much tenderness and respect, you would never believe you were in a prison. There was no quarrelling and yelling, there were no jealous remarks or demands for specific Christmas gifts.

The atmosphere was strangely filled with a tenderness, sisterhood; and such respect for the brothers. It really was as though Jesus was there.

After the gifts were given out, all wrapped in nice Christmas paper, the brothers shared a Christmas meal of cooked food.

The brothers had stayed up all evening, preparing chickens from our farm. Added to that, rice and peas which was cooked at our monastery by our volunteers. There was also vegetables, carrots, cho-cho, yams and potatoes mixed with gravy. Then there were soft drinks to top it off, given by our wonderful associates and friends. Everything was well appreciated and the prisoners 'licked the platter clean'.

Great merriment

Then there was a dance and games, and great merriment. It was as though we had all become like little children again. "Unless you become like little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of Heaven."

The innocence and purity of the experience was a little taste of Heaven, and it made me long for the heavenly kingdom.

These women were really our sisters and we were their brothers. Indeed, Christ had come, and there was peace on earth.

What astounded the prisoners and ourselves was a 23-year-old woman's story. She was in prison just a few months.

"I killed my friend who had taken away my babyfather. He was the only close friend I had. But the gal was supposed to be my friend. I used the gun, and I shot her dead. I really sorry, sorry, father. I lost my head.

"Now I have this little girl. Look at her father. She is so sweet."

The criminal woman did not seem like a criminal. She was a quiet, smiling, young lady. She took out her breast and fed the baby right there without self-consciousness or embarrassment before everyone singing a Christmas song.

"I want to baptise her. I don't want her to be like me. I want her to be like Jesus."

Father Andrew, a volunteer priest from Louisiana, was with us and the brothers in the prison. Thank God he had the Book of Rites with him.

All the women prisoners, the wardens, the brothers and myself felt that something beautiful and sacred was happening. There was silence, attentiveness, prayer-fulness, and the sacred presence of God. The little two-month-old baby girl was baptised.

The prisoners, the wardens, the brothers all broke into songs and prayers. Truly, Jesus had come!