In Pakistan, I work at three shelters, referred to as “hostels,” which provide food, lodging and education to over 100 girls aged seven to twenty who come from difficult circumstances. Three times a week I accompany these girls who are from economically disadvantaged families, orphans, or victims of domestic violence, both verbal and physical.
Before coming to Pakistan, I spent many years serving in the cemetery of Manila, Philippines, where families lived among tombstones. I thought the children born there faced the most tragic of destinies. And in some ways, that may be true. Yet, as I now witness the lives of these girls in Pakistan, I find myself saying something different.
The children in the cemetery were indeed poor, but at least they lived with their parents, who overflowed with love for them. Each morning, mothers in the cemetery would iron their daughters’ school uniforms, prepare a very simple breakfast, and braid their daughters’ long hair.
In contrast, the girls at these shelters do everything on their own. They not only care for themselves but often take on the responsibility of caring for younger siblings— washing their clothes, ironing their uniforms, and braiding their hair. Then, when they leave the shelter, they must navigate life alone in a country like Pakistan, where it is extremely dangerous for women to live independently.
When I first met these girls in May last year, their expressionless faces and lack of laughter tugged at my heart. I thought, “If only I could bring a small smile to these beautiful faces.” I began to question God: “Lord, what is Your purpose in sending me here?” Gradually, I felt a quiet conviction that my mission is to prepare these girls to recognize the angels that God sends into their lives. I am to plant seeds of self-love in their hearts and help them feel God’s love for them.
Through activities like meditation, music, creating mandala art (a meditative tool for self-reflection), Biblical drama, and liturgical dance, I provided the girls with opportunities to explore and express their emotions honestly. These experiences allowed them to discover their uniqueness and understand that it is okay to think differently fram others.
One day, after a mandala art session, a seventeen-year-old girl named Sonia shared her creation. Her mandala was painted black on the outside but was yellow on the inside. When I asked her about her color scheme, she explained, “The world is full of struggles and hardships, but God shines His light on them, and that gives me hope.” This was a poignant moment that revealed how deeply these girls feel the weight of life.
Another girl, ten-year-old Sirat, meticulously decorated her mandala with elements from nature. Her serious expression and focused gaze were striking. On finishing, she asked me to place a candle in the centre of her mandala. She explained that her mandala was a representation of her prayer, and lighting the candle would help her prayer reach God.
One day, we shared our reflections on the question, “Why did God create me?” During this discussion, a sixteenyear- old girl named Muqaddas asked, “Does God have something He desires of me, too?” Her question pierced my heart, and I realized anew that my mission is to help these girls gain confidence, recognize their inherent worth, and understand that each of us is uniquely created by God. God loves them deeply and treasures them as His creations. And He loves and values each of us in the same way, including the person sitting beside us.
Columban Missionary Sr. Julietta Choi is from Seoul in Korea. She was professed in 2010 and has served on mission in the Philippines. She is now working in Pakistan.
