Tag Archives: legate

Making Room At The Inn

It was the vacation of a lifetime for Paul Wilkes and his wife, Tracy, when they booked a four-week trip to India in 2006. They were simply looking for “something a little different.” Their two boys were grown. Tracy ran a home for underprivileged kids in Wilmington, North Carolina. Paul was a successful author and freelance writer for such notable publications as The Atlantic and the New York Times and had taught journalism at Columbia and Notre Dame.

A side trip on their way to visit a Trappist monastery, however, became the detour of their very lives. That fateful trip resulted in Paul founding the Home of Hope in India with the mission to build homes for orphaned and abandoned girls.


After breakfast at their hotel in the city of Kochi, a personal driver picked up Paul and Tracy for some sightseeing. The driver talked proudly of Kochi’s past and present. Paul was very distracted by the many crippled and maimed children—mostly girls— begging on the streets.

The Wilkes planned to visit a Trappist monastery later that afternoon but at two o’clock, the driver said they had more time so was there anything else they would like to see? “I’m Catholic,” Paul said. “There are so many sick and bedraggled kids begging on the street. What is my Church doing about this?”

“I could tell you,” the driver said, “but, if you don’t mind, sir, I’ll show you.”

Soon, they entered the gates of Prathyasha Bhavan—which translates as Home of Hope— an orphanage that housed 75 girls run by the Salesian Sisters. The gates swung open and a group of girls came running out, smiling and waving at the visitors.

Sisters Sophie and Thresia showed Paul and Tracy around, then offered them some tea. The sisters had asked for nothing, but Paul was ready to offer a donation when he noticed a little girl wearing sunglasses standing near Sister Sophie. It seemed out of place. They can’t even afford rice, Paul thought recalling the meager pantry he had just seen. “Why is she wearing sunglasses?” he asked.

Sister took off the glasses. One of Reena’s eyes was dark and clear, but the other was scarred and dull. “Sister told me that six-year-old Reena was begging on the street with her mother who was mentally ill, when they were separated in the crowd,” Paul said. “Reena was kidnapped by the ‘beggar Mafia,’ who routinely do this sort of thing. They held her down and gouged her eye to make her a “better beggar”. It made her more pitiful, so people would give more money, which the beggar Mafia would immediately take.

“I grimaced in horror,” Paul said. “And she returned my look of horror with the most beautiful and trusting smile I had ever seen.”

Paul and Tracy continued on to the Trappist monastery, but their minds and hearts remained at the Home of Hope. It is mostly girls that beg since boys in India are more valued and expected to work to help support their families. Although the Salesian Sisters gave loving care to the girls, they lived in deplorable conditions and slept on a concrete floor at night.

Before leaving Kochi, Paul felt compelled to see the Home of Hope again and made a silent commitment: Reena, somehow, some way, I want to — I AM – going to make your future better than your horrible past.


Back at home, Reena’s smile stayed with Paul just as the words of his third-grade teacher, Sr. Mary at St. Benedict’s in Cleveland, Ohio, had done. “Does it matter that you were alive? Will this world be a better place because of you?” she had asked them.

Paul’s grandparents immigrated from Slovakia. His parents had only sixth-grade educations and his dad worked in a coal mine, but there was always room for more at the dinner table. The lessons of his childhood never left Paul; charity was a constant alongside his successful journalism career.

Paul’s first thought was to raise money for foam mattresses. He succeeded but the mattresses failed. There was no room to store them and they quickly became dirty on the floor. At that point at 68 years old, working on another book [he has 20 in all now] and teaching part-time at the University of North Carolina, Paul had just begun receiving Social Security. The check amount was about the same as his teaching job.

Paul considered that those girls in India did not need mattresses; they needed a respectable home with beds. He decided to live simply on just Social Security and his mission began. Rather than try to repair a dilapidated structure, Paul started raising money for a new home. “I started speaking in parishes and Rotary Clubs and anywhere I could,” Paul said. “I had no administrative experience, but there’s a thing called faith.”

Paul raised enough money and let the Salesian Sisters supervise building the home. Once that was complete, knowing there were 500,000 other girls on the streets of India, Paul kept going. Thirteen years later, 12 homes have been funded and 4,000 girls have been helped. “Some only stayed a few days or weeks until we could figure out their situation and return them to responsible relatives,” Paul said. “Other girls stayed and have gone on to school and/ or married. There are 1,000 girls currently in residence.”


Legates John Clegg and his wife Clare met Paul years ago when he came to speak at their parish, Our Lady of the Star, in Ponte Vedra Beach. The Cleggs are among the founding members of the Jacksonville, Florida Chapter, and John served as president from 2014-2015. “I found Paul’s story in dropping everything to do this remarkable,” John said. “I would call Paul four or five times a year to keep in touch.”

Six months ago, after construction on the 11th home began, John surprised Paul with an offer to completely pay for home number 12. That home, called The Little Flower in Imphal, India, is now under construction.

John explained that supporting the Homes of Hope mission is a natural extension of his years in pro-life work. He appreciates that around 95 percent of all donations go directly to building homes. Paul takes no salary.

“What he does is so simple,” John said. “He finds nuns from the orders of Salesians, Carmelites, and Franciscan Clarists who are already caring for abandoned children, and he builds them a home. It costs around $300,000 and once it’s built, the sisters are self-sufficient. I am hoping this [funding an entire home] will set a trend which will make Paul’s life easier. If money were no object, he could build more homes.”

John writes back and forth with the sisters of The Little Flower home who call him “Uncle” and send their heartfelt thanks. “When the new home is ready, I will go out for the dedication,” he said.

Today, at age 80, Paul sometimes visits during construction and makes a final visit at the time of dedication, frequently accompanied with his wife. “When I go to India, my feet never touch the ground,” he said. “The feeling of those little hands grabbing your hand and the back of your shirt—it doesn’t get any better than that.”

For more information, visit HomeofHopeIndia.org  

PATTI ARMSTRONG is a Legatus magazine contributing writer.

What is a Legate? Iraq’s lessons for America

What does it mean to be a Legate? To be an ambassador for Christ and his Church to an often hostile, always uncomprehending world? Each of you will have your own answer, but I’d like to share mine with you.

This past January it came to me in an epiphany as I sat in front of a shattered Catholic church in an Iraqi village razed by ISIS, just after I heard the story of a Yazidi father whose two daughters were kidnapped as sex slaves. I sat on the ground, almost choking on the cordite still lingering in the air, the town protected by only a platoon of brave Kurdish soldiers with rifles. I thought of how we as Americans are protected — by the most powerful military in world history. And I listened.

He gave me all the details, trying to keep together his human dignity, but I could see it was a struggle. There is nothing that undermines a man’s sense of honor like being helpless to protect his loved ones from violence. What he didn’t know is that I understood him better than he could imagine. I lost a daughter to abortion when I was 17 — I found out about it afterward, when it was too late and my daughter was dead. So I know that feeling of humiliation and rage. It’s something no parent should have to experience. That awareness is what drove me to the prolife movement, to protect the vulnerable from violence.

That same mission is what sent me to Iraq, to film a documentary on the threats to religious minorities, especially local Christians. I met with victimized families, courageous Kurdish, Arab and Christian soldiers who were manning the front lines against the ultimate evil — a radical cult that justifies sex trafficking in the name of God, that beheads helpless Christians and Muslims who won’t support them. While the sights, sounds and smells were very different, the spirit I encountered was exactly the same as I see whenever I visit crisis pregnancy centers across America: ordinary, sometimes partly broken people, rallying their strength to confront the face of evil, to serve their fellow human beings as images of Christ.

That’s what I think it means to be a Legate — to lean out of your comfort zone, to look for opportunities to serve the persecuted, to ask uncomfortable questions and be willing to take the heat. We as Americans have the immense privilege of living in a mostly orderly country, in mostly safe neighborhoods with enormous opportunities for social mobility and achievement.

I was born to working-class teen parents. I doubt most of my fellow Legates coasted to success on inherited capital. Instead, most were the beneficiaries of a largely free and transparent economy, with access to education and the chance to develop our talents. Our ancestors fought and died to make sure we had that opportunity.

Most of the world is not so privileged. Billions of people live without secure property rights, protection against tyranny, or the power to change their government. Tens of millions lack food and clean water. More than a billion are denied religious freedom, which we take for granted.

As Catholics, we are even more highly privileged. We have the fullness of truth, the untainted Gospel, along with the richest tools for understanding it — bequeathed to us by popes, councils, saints and scholars. We have no good excuse for falling for modern ideologies of evil, from socialism to radical individualism, from eugenics to euthanasia. We know better and, because of that, we have a duty to step up and tell the truth. We owe it to those who weren’t granted the full gift of faith, which sets us free.

Instead of feeling ashamed or guilty about our privilege, we should pause and be thankful for it. We should roll it around in our heads and appreciate its full extent. Then we should resolve to share it with as many of God’s creatures as possible, in whatever sphere of life we have some influence. You know your business. You know how you could use your expertise or connections to promote the Gospel of Life. Let me encourage you to use the rest of Lent to reflect on how you could best be of service. What great gift did God give you to help lift up your fellow children of God? See if by the time Easter rolls around you can be ready with a plan of action, because the world is battered and bleeding. It needs us to bring it Jesus.

JASON SCOTT JONES is a film producer, author, activist and human rights worker. He is an At-Large member of Legatus.