Hospital Experiment
A little less than a month after completing the Spiritual Exercises, a novice begins what is called the “Hospital Experiment.” This is perhaps the most misleading term for one of our experiences. I never stepped foot in a hospital during my time on the experiment. It takes the form of six weeks of living either in a Jesuit infirmary or in a L’Arche home for people with and without developmental disabilities, helping to care for the people there and to learn from their experience.
Two of my classmates and I found ourselves at L’Arche Daybreak, in a northern suburb of Toronto. On March 2nd, 2014 I walked into the New House, one of 8 houses that made up Daybreak, and moved my bags into a room on the second floor, situated between John and Stephen, two "core members" or men with developmental disabilities who lived there. Those without developmental disabilities are called assistants.
Unsure of what I would be doing during the weeks, I was initially reserved and tried to avoid stepping on others’ toes. I had never spent much time around those with developmental disabilities, and so I learned how to interact with a new crowd of people. And, on the first night, I learned that I had no reason to be afraid. After dinner, one of the core members asked if I wanted to see her photo album, and I agreed. Instantly, I was welcomed into the heart of the community.
Of course, I had some days where I felt uncertain about what my role was supposed to be and where I was supposed to go, but the community of core members and assistants helped me learn to see myself as worthwhile, as someone very loveable. The people who live at L’Arche can very easily be shunned by the outside world, but they have an incredible ability to teach people how to authentically love.
Allow me to share two stories that illustrate that statement.
John, a man who has lived at L’Arche for more than 45 years, had the habit of delivering mail to the various houses every day. Towards the end of my time at Daybreak, I had the opportunity to walk the mail route with John fairly regularly and see how he interacted with the rest of the community. We would get the mail from the Big House and walk from building to building, delivering whatever mail was there.
John greeted everyone with a smile and his trademark “How are you?” No matter who we ran into, John paused to greet them and his love for other people was palpable. If I had his job, I wouldn’t have said a tenth of the words John did, and I would not have made the friends John did.
Michael has lived in the New House for 25 years. He is confined to a wheelchair and cannot speak. However, he could communicate in marvelous ways that cut right to the heart of any person. On one of my last nights in the house, I touched Michael on the shoulder, and his face lit up. He cooed and smiled as big as I’ve ever seen. When he smiled, everything was right in the world for a few seconds.
Ultimately, L’Arche taught me that developing relationships is far more important than getting work done. I too often forget that lesson, but I cannot forget the love and friendship I experienced there.
For more information about L'Arche Daybreak, visit their website.
Cover Image Canadian Flag by Flickr User Michelle Lee, via Flickr Creative Commons, available here.
