Letter to a Friend

written by Miranda Portwine to Katie Lochhead

Hey Katie,

I was thinking about you today. Remember at the beginning of the semester how you were telling me you don’t know what to do with your life? You love theology and social justice but you are majoring in art. You are incredibly talented at art but it is not your passion. I know how passionate you are about just being with people–being present with them. You want to hear the stories and voices of those that don’t get heard and you want to share those stories with others.

I know in high school, you and your brother would volunteer at the soup kitchen on Sunday mornings. I thought you were crazy giving up a prime day to sleep in to go work your butt off at a kitchen. How foolish I feel now. I know that this sort of thing is effortless to you and it is just one thing out of a multitude that you do that I cannot even fathom having the time or the energy for. But like I said, you do it so effortlessly. You do not see it as giving up a day to sleep in. You do not see it as a sacrifice of yourself, but a chance to help others. I respect and honor you so much that you do that.

You are a role model in my life. Whenever I think about people who are just good right down to the bone, people who would sacrifice so much for the good of others, and people who will just be there for and with others, you are one of the people that come to mind. Another is Mev Puleo, but I have the honor and the pleasure of knowing you, being friends with you, and growing with you. I really do consider myself lucky. But you are probably wondering who this Mev is that I speak.

Well I will tell you. I took this class at SLU that I think you would be really interested in. It is a Social Justice class, and the professor is Dr. Mark Chmiel. My first encounter with Mev however was through a picture. I was at this woman’s house dropping off money for children in Haiti. Jane Corbett used to go down to Haiti and work with the poor there and when my grandma introduced me to her I know that I had to help somehow. While I was there, I saw a picture of a woman on her fridge and in the picture the woman was whispering something to Pope John Paul II. Jane noticed me looking at it and she told me that the woman in the picture also helped the poor and that she was a very nice, compassionate woman. She then went on to say that the woman was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor and that we should keep her in our prayers. That woman was Mev.

It was a long time ago, however, and though some of the details are lost for me, that picture forever stayed burned in my brain. I would think about Mev from time to time, wonder how she was doing, and wonder what she had done. Years later, I found myself in a Social Justice class not knowing what I was getting myself into. I mean, I took it in high school and snored through most of it. I still had no idea what it was all about, and on top of that, after reading the syllabus for this one, I didn’t think I would have a chance to sleep at all. It was overwhelming but for some reason, I felt like I needed to be there. Well I ended up sticking with it and even friending my professor on Facebook! I was looking through his albums and there was a whole one devoted to Mev. To my surprise, I stumbled upon the very same picture! A chill went through me. A picture that I thought about for years, expecting my own memory to be faded, was staring at me exactly how I remembered it from so many years ago.

I told the professor about this happening and he told me a little bit about Mev, his late wife and even gave me a book he wrote on her, The Book of Mev. It sounded a bit biblical but I thought I’d give it a chance. Once I started reading it, I could not put it down. The book goes through how my professor, Dr. Chmiel, met Mev. It talked about her work with the poor in Brazil; it even has some of her interviews that she had with the people there: men, women, widows, priests, etc. It is covered with photos of her and photos she took of the people she interviewed and heard, and now we can hear them too. It went through her frustrations of finding publishers, frustrations of others not seeming to care, but also her determination and hope that we can make change. I learned more about her through this book not only her professional life, but her infectious laugh, her love for Ben and Jerry’s, and even some of her deepest fears. I feel like somehow, through the pages, I almost know her. It sounds crazy, I’m sure, but I think another reason I feel that way is because she reminds me of you: silly, goofy, loving, dedicated, motivated, hard-working, and a true friend.

I think you would really enjoy reading this book and I think it would really help you come up with what you could do through your gift of art and passion for social justice. I love you sweets; give me a call sometime if you want to talk more about it.

Until then, it is late and I should probably get to bed! J

Love you,

Miranda