cover story Father Tom Helfrich needed a kidney transplant. He told his fellow priests, and asked for their prayers. Father Ken McKenna did more than pray ­ he offered one of his kidneys. Giving a kidney & giving thanks By Bob Horning
	profile Just when Karen thought she and her husband were ready for a happy retirement, he said he wanted a divorce. Find out how Karen found new life and new hope through Beginning Experience. my marriage ended, now what? By Margaret Ann Cross
	profile Gerry Rice had some experiences that can make people become bitter. Find out how his life was transformed through his commitment to Christ and his experience of Cursillo. from bitter to brighter By Bob Horning
	cutlure A candle for remembering the ones we have loved and lost. memorial candle Michelle Sessions-DiFranco

Giving a kidney & Giving thanks
Father Ken gave a kidney to Father Tom
By Bob Horning | Photography by Jim Luning

Father Tom Helfrich talks about himself as the priest with four kidneys.

It’s not that he collects them or anything like that. It’s just that he needs a new one every so often to stay alive.

Because of that need, fellow priest Ken McKenna now only has one kidney. But both men feel good about it.

At age 12, long before he could even pronounce it, Helfrich developed glomerulonephritis, a disease in which the kidney filters become inflamed and scarred, slowly losing the ability to remove wastes from the blood while making urine. The kidneys, bean shaped and the size of a fist, also regulate electrolyte balance, and help with red blood cell production

By 1989, Helfrich, then 40, needed his first kidney transplant. “My brother, Ron, with the same blood type, was a perfect tissue match,” he says. “At the cost of an entire softball season, he gave me his kidney.”

Both men fared well. Ron, eight years younger than his brother, is married, has three children and is as physically active as ever. Tom did fine until about 2003, when his kidney function began to deteriorate, apparently due to the medications for preventing organ rejection, not an uncommon occurrence. In June 2005, he was told he would need another transplant.

Since being ordained in 1978, Father Tom had spent most of his priesthood as a high-school teacher and retreat coordinator, and serving in various roles at Camp De Sales, a family center in Brooklyn, Mich. He also spent eight years as the pastor of St. Mary of Good Counsel in Adrian, and now is in campus ministry at Siena Heights University in Adrian.

“I grew up in a religious household, knowing it was a special call to be a priest,” he says. The Oblates of Saint Francis de Sales administered and taught at his school, St. Francis de Sales High School in Toledo, Ohio, and impressed him enough that he wanted to follow in their footsteps. “They were real men – down to earth, accessible and happy,” he recalls. “At my deepest core, I know I have been called to be a priest. It’s where God wants me, where I am happiest and most effective.”

Last summer, at the annual assembly of the Detroit/Toledo province of the OSFS at Camp De Sales in Brooklyn, Mich., Father Tom gave an update on his medical condition, mentioning his need for a new kidney. He said that if anyone had type A blood and was willing to be a donor, to let him know. He already had a few volunteers, but it was uncertain if they would be a good match.

Enter Father McKenna, the director of the camp, and of Holley Ear Institute (for the deaf) located on the grounds. Also born in Toledo, Father Ken’s close-up view of the Oblates as a freshman in high school came unexpectedly. When his family home burned down, the Oblates invited him and his brother to live with them until their parents found a new house. “During those three weeks, I saw a side of them most students don’t see,” McKenna said. “They were regular people, living a life together that was full of laughter.”

McKenna became involved with ministry to the deaf while in seminary and, after ordination as an Oblate in 1985, served as the chaplain for the deaf in the Archdiocese of Detroit. He has been at Camp De Sales since 1994.

“I had heard about Father Tom’s ministry over the years, and about how effective and popular he was,” Father McKenna said. “But we didn’t know each other well. When I learned of his situation, I was willing to be a donor, and I am A positive, so I asked him what the next step would be for me.

“Having become novice master for our province and in charge of priest recruitment, I was aware not only of the need for new priests, but the need to keep healthy the ones that we have. I thought donating a kidney would be a small sacrifice if Tom could continue his ministry.”

Father Ken was soon at University of Michigan Hospital in Ann Arbor, where the operation would be performed, taking tests to make sure he would be a good match. He had a physical exam, then a psychological interview, designed to ensure the donor is doing it for the right reasons.

Father Helfrich said he “was humbled that Ken would do this. It’s not as if we were best friends. I was gratefully amazed.”

Did McKenna have any fears about losing a kidney? “Not really,” he said. “I knew Tom’s brother, Ron, was living a normal life, and from my reading I knew that you can live just as well with one kidney as two.”

While in the preparation room for surgery, Father McKenna remembers being quite emotional. “There I was, surrounded by five or six others who were going to have various surgeries far more serious than mine. I was the only healthy one; the others couldn’t be sure they would even survive their operations.

“Since my surgery was laparoscopic, only requiring two small incisions by the navel, the recovery was uncomfortable, mainly from the carbon dioxide they had pumped into me beforehand. But it wasn’t painful.” Father McKenna jokes that he used to drink a lot of soda pop, but doesn’t feel much like drinking it anymore.

The operation took place Jan. 12. Father Ken was out of the hospital three days later, and in two weeks was able to say Mass again, though he did need someone to drive him to Lansing for it.

Three months after surgery, he could still say, “I’m doing great. I am not on medication, have no diet restrictions, and I don’t expect to die of anything kidney related. The body adjusts. The remaining kidney gets a little larger and takes over the extra work.”

Father Ken points out that the teaching of Catholic/Christian tradition has always been to alleviate suffering, physical as well as spiritual. “That’s why you see so many religious orders starting hospitals and so many Catholics involved in healing work.”

The recovery for Father Tom has been slower. He knew what to expect, though – a five-day hospital stay, out of work for six weeks, and then a long, gradual return to normalcy. After three months, he was doing 12 push-ups every day, on the way to his goal of 50.

“I feel very, very well,” he says now.” I am incredibly blessed. Every day I say, ‘Do I really deserve this? If I had been born 50 years earlier, I would have died from my condition. This is a great reminder that life is fragile, that we have nothing that is not a gift, and that we at all times ought to give thanks. (1 Thessalonians 5:17) Yet, it is not just about regaining health, and enjoying fishing and hunting again; but God is saying, ‘I still have a mission for you. Let’s do it.’”

Helfrich’s restored health has benefited both priests. For Father McKenna, it “reaffirms the wonder of life – that God made the body in such a way that it can live with one kidney. I am amazed that medical science has such an understanding of the body that physicians can perform this operation.

“It has also given me an opportunity to reflect on the end of life. My prayer immediately after surgery, when it was easier to imagine the decreased capacity that often comes at the end of life, was that I could be ready when the time comes to let go of what makes me happy: saying Mass, my work, my love of carpentry. I don’t want to be so attached that I can’t let go of it.

“I have never had surgery before, so an added bonus is that this will help me to identify with the people I visit in the hospital.”

Asked if he would do it again, Father Ken replies, “Absolutely. I have no regrets. I would recommend it to anyone. I don’t know how many years Tom will get out of it, but I hope it can get him into his 70s.” With a laugh, the expert in American Sign Language adds that “since Tom struggles a bit with learning sign language, he should be improving now.”

Father Helfrich says that the two kidney operations haven’t necessarily affected his relationship with God, “but it sure has with Ken and my brother. If either of them ever needs me, I will drop everything to help.”

While McKenna acknowledges the appreciation of his friend, he smiles and says, “If he ever needs my second one, he probably won’t find me so generous.”

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The gift of life

Organ donation is a meritorious act, according to Catholic teaching. Though the level of Father Ken’s generosity may overwhelm us, most organ donation takes place after death. It is a relatively easy process to fill out a donor card, which you can do through Gift of Life Michigan. Additionally, Michigan residents can also indicate their wish to be a donor on their driver’s licenses. Make sure to discuss this with your family – they will be asked for their consent.

For more information, visit www.giftoflifemichigan.org.

my marriage ended ­ now what?
Karen Schavey found a new life with the help of Beginning Experience
By Margaret Ann Cross | Photography by Tom Gennara

On summer evenings, when Karen Schavey returns from work, she walks around her yard, surveying the flowerbeds. “There’s always something new coming in,” she says, smiling.

The lovingly tended garden could represent Karen’s life today – full of growth. Four years after a difficult divorce, she has created a new world for herself that includes a new home in Lansing, a new job, new friends and time to help others. In putting her life back together, Karen has drawn strength from God; a support group at St. John Student Parish in East Lansing; and Beginning Experience.

My husband and I were married for 33 years, and we raised three children. After they were grown and on their own, we planned to retire. We had always dreamed about traveling around the country in an RV, so we bought a fifth-wheel trailer and a truck to haul it. Then we sold the house and downsized to an apartment. I gave up everything – sold it or gave it away. I had nothing left, other than what would furnish an apartment.

Six months or so before we could officially retire, we started having difficulties in the
marriage. We had been through major changes. My husband kept saying that everything would be fine after we retired and hit the road, but we weren’t able to get past the problems. He left me shortly after we moved into the apartment.

We had always had ups and downs in our marriage, but we worked very hard at keeping the family together. You can always look back and say, “I should have done this or I should have done that.” But at the time, I was trying to keep things going and keep the kids on an even keel. I thought we had worked through our problems. We had a lot of good times. We had a lot of love.

The divorce blew me out of the water. You work your whole life raising children, making a home, looking forward to your golden years, sailing away in the sunset together. That’s what I pictured, but it didn’t happen that way because of the divorce. I lost my identity. I was no longer a wife, companion and life partner.

When I was going through the separation, I saw an ad for a divorce support group at St. John Student Parish in East Lansing, and I started going. I always say that it was God who sent me there, because it was the only thing that got me through it. When I was in my marriage, I wrapped myself around my husband and my children. I didn’t have friends. So it was very difficult to walk into a room full of strangers and tell them what was happening. I cried, and they understood.

They invited me to join them at church, even though I wasn’t Catholic. I did, and I felt a sense of family there, a sense of belonging. I sat in church one Sunday and a peace came over me. I knew I was going to make it through this. A year later, I went through the Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults and was baptized and confirmed into the church. There had been a big empty hole in my life; God filled it. Now, I have this great nearness to God. I feel like I’m not out there alone. I can sit down and talk to God. I know he has a bigger, better plan for my life.

A lot of people from the support group had also been to Beginning Experience weekends and thought that might help me. When I went to my first weekend, my husband and I were separated. I was still at the point where I wanted him to come back. You can’t let go of all of those years just like that, so I took baby steps that time.

I attended meetings called Continued Beginnings, and then I went through team training to help lead the weekends. I enjoy helping people. I wanted to give back what I had received. Beginning Experience is a peer ministry. We always say that you can’t understand this kind of loss unless you have walked in these shoes.

When you are part of the team, you go through it all again. You evaluate your relationship and you get in touch with yourself. You write a talk to share with the others. Every time I do a talk on a weekend, it takes me another step further. It’s been four years, but everybody progresses through it in their own time and in their own way.

I am on the board of Beginning Experience now ... I like matching people up for the small group sessions during the weekends. You wouldn’t believe the bonding that goes on. Some of these people become friends for the rest of their lives.

I met one of my best friends through Beginning Experience. We travel together, and that had been my dream. I am not driving around the country in an RV, but I have been to Texas, Las Vegas and Florida, and I have a trip planned for Hawaii.

I have met so many wonderful people. When one of my sons got married, I was apprehensive about the wedding because my ex-husband was going to be there with his new wife. My son said, “Mom, you can invite anybody you want to.” So I did. I had three tables of wonderful, caring friends. They all came to support me.

I am content now. I have the home I bought on my own; I have a job I enjoy. I have my kids and my granddaughter. I am having new adventures. I am still doing the traveling I wanted to do. And I have my faith, which I never had before. I go to church, and I pray. I missed out on that for so many years. I don’t know if I’m joyously happy, but I have a peace now that I didn’t have for a lot of years – even in the marriage. I have that because I’ve pulled together all of the good parts of my life and pieced together the person I am – content and peaceful and walking with God.

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Beginning Experience

This group’s purpose is to facilitate the grief resolution process for adults and children who have suffered a loss through death, divorce or separation, thereby enabling them to again love themselves, others and God. The lay ministers in the Beginning Experience ministry are “wounded healers” – specially trained men and women who are themselves widowed, separated or divorced, but further along in the grieving process. For more information, call 866.610.8877 or visit www.beginningexperience.org.

from bitter to brighter
how Cursillo transformed Gerry Rice
by Bob Horning | Photography by Tom Gennara

I served two tours in Vietnam with the Navy Seabees, and at one point, I got an ear infection. Because it was mistreated by the doctor, the infection spread and I nearly died as a result. I have no hearing in my right ear now, and paralysis on the right side of my face, which can make me look grumpy. I’m really not.

But at the time, my medical condition left me with an attitude. I was angry that it happened. After being discharged, I became a militant unionist at the railroad company in Jackson, where I worked for 17 years as a brakeman and conductor. I was a single man with little responsibility and pretty much kept my own counsel. I would talk with the guys about sports and politics, but nothing personal.

Church was not a part of my life until I met my wife. I had been baptized in the third grade after being instructed by the Baltimore Catechism but, after 10th grade, I quit going to Mass.

In 1978, I met my wife, Ann, and my life took a turn for the better. We attended an Engaged Encounter, and on that weekend, for the very first time, I felt the church was embracing me as an adult. Consequently, I was able to make an intellectual commitment to Christ.

Four years later, I experienced another transformation when I attended a Cursillo weekend – a “short course” on Christianity, emphasizing an encounter with Jesus Christ. This is meant to encourage lay evangelization. All of the discussion seemed divinely intended to reach me. God, and the Cursillo team, knew exactly what I needed to hear. It was worthwhile, but difficult. I felt guilt and remorse for the way I had lived, and if my car had been in the parking lot, I would have left. It felt as though I were on God’s anvil being reshaped. I was a rock going into the weekend, and merely a pebble by the end.

There, I was challenged to be a better husband and father, and to do what I could to make our home a positive environment. I was challenged to bring Christ to every situation. And most important, I was asked to enter into a new relationship with Christ. Fortunately, through the Cursillo, and through God’s gift to me – my wife – I had come to the point where I desired a change, when I wanted to become a better person. At that point, I was not only intellectually committed, but dedicated emotionally.

One effect caused by this divine intervention was that I decided to volunteer as an extraordinary minister to shut-ins. I love doing this because the people who are shut-ins are eager to receive the body of Christ, and are glad to have me pray with them.

In addition, I made prayer a more significant part of my life. Now, my daily prayers include the rosary and Divine Mercy chaplet. I also say a short prayer when I hear an ambulance siren, or receive a prayer request via e-mail.

As time went on, I began to examine everything based on one question – is it legal, moral and ethical? By those criteria, I realized a job change was in order. I had been selling insurance for years. The industry was under scrutiny for legal issues, and, for me, there was too much emphasis on making the sale. I left in 1996, and started doing pre-need sales of cemetery and funeral arrangements. Within two years, I discovered the same tendencies in the funeral business.

I wanted to treat people differently, to help bring them peace. When I told my wife I wanted to put a crucifix on my office wall, she immediately bought one. I hung it the next day. I began offering to pray with grieving families, to ask the Holy Spirit to come and be with them. It allowed them to know that God was with them in their sorrow.

But that wasn’t enough to satisfy my conscience. By 1998, I told my wife I needed to escape. “Then how about calling the diocese?” she asked. She had seen a notice in a parish bulletin for a position within the Cemeteries Department.

When I interviewed, I let them know that I wanted to operate as a ministry, not a business. They hired me. Now I am able to help people in need, and am surrounded by fellow workers in the diocesan central office, all of whom are positive and committed to the mission of the church.

I understand the word “love” a little better now, and I can show a more intelligent, well-intended love to the people I serve. Those who have lost a loved one want us to understand their loss.

We are trying to give the Catholic community a sense of ownership of the cemeteries, as well as doing things that will encourage Catholics to be buried in a Catholic cemetery. For instance, to make them a more prayerful place, we created new sections devoted to the Way of the Cross and the rosary. The bronze artwork encourages prayer.

Another thing – on Jan. 22, the anniversary of Roe vs. Wade, we have pro-life motorcades every year, which traverse parts of Lansing and Flint, followed by inter-denominational prayer services in our indoor heated mausoleums. We also have Masses every month for the souls of those buried in our cemeteries.

We began, in collaboration with Catholic Charities, adult bereavement support groups. In May of this year, we held a day of retreat and reflection for parents who have lost a child through miscarriage, stillbirth and/or neo-natal death.

God has given a lot to me and he expects a great deal in return. I hope not to disappoint him. I meet every Wednesday with three men who have also attended a Cursillo. We discuss our prayer life, Christian formation, and our evangelization efforts. It inspires me to keep moving onward, and pulls me in the right direction. Through the love of God, I now feel my purpose. Through the love of God, I am whole.

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Cursillo – a “short course” for a better life

Cursillo is Spanish for “short course” and is a movement often associated with its three-day weekend retreats. It began in Majorca in the 1940s as a movement by members of Catholic Action.

There is more to Cursillo, as Gerry Rice’s experience shows. One of Cursillo’s primary aims is evangelization.

For more information of the Cursillo movement, please visit www.natl-cursillo.org

A candle
for remembering
Michelle Sessions DiFranco | Photography by Phillip Shippert

With Thanksgiving and Christmas around the corner, it’s hard not to get caught up in everything that is, well, all about Thanksgiving and Christmas. Heck, how can we not, when we’re so bombarded with sights and sounds all around us? Set foot into the realm of retail and you’re blasted with a palette of reds and greens. And all of those easy-listening stations? They play nothing but Christmas music from Halloween to Dec. 25. Hey, I’m not knocking it. I love this time of year. My husband and I are the dreamy types who eat, breathe and sleep the rituals that come with the enchantment of the holidays. But do we ever stop to realize that not everyone is feeling on cloud nine at this time? In fact, this time of year can be the worst for many who have recently lost a loved one. With its feast days of All Saints and All Souls, we recall that November is also a time for remembrance, celebration and prayer for the souls in heaven and purgatory. So, among the fun and chaos of the season, we should take time out to pray for those going through a rough time and – of course – pray for the souls who’ve gone before us.

A couple of years ago, my brother-in-law’s father passed away. Shortly thereafter, at Christmas, my parents gave him a memorial candle as a special gift for remembering and praying for his father. This beautiful candle, in a polished wooden case, came with an engraved prayer. My brother-in-law, sister and their daughter have made it a custom to light that candle at every holiday and on the anniversary of his death, and pray that prayer in remembrance of him.

Well, the overpriced gift shop memorial candle is very nice, but those who know me know that my motto is, “Don’t buy it, make it.” So here is a simple project you could do amid eating turkey, ordering gifts online and decorating the tree. It is something you can make to remember a loved one who has died or give as a gift to someone who recently lost a loved one.

For this project,
you will need:

• A cylinder-shaped glass candleholder about four inches in height

• One package of glass pebbles

• One three-inch pillar candle

• A couple of containers of glass paint, in various colors

• A paintbrush

• One package of small brads (These are typically used in card-making and scrapbooking and can be found at an arts-and-crafts store.)

Begin by painting the name of a person, date of death, or any message on the outside of the glass candleholder. Add any other graphic elements of choice around the painted text. Set aside and let dry. Push the pointed end of several brads into the pillar candle to create a decorative banding. Set candle aside. Lastly, pour the glass pebbles into the painted candleholder and place candle inside.

More ideas

• Personalize the candle itself by using letter brads to spell out name.

• For a more traditional look, use a smaller glass hurricane candle holder and tie a ribbon around the top.

• Wrap entire project in cellophane, tie with a ribbon and give as a gift.en for an alternate way to spell out the words, “thank you.”

you.”