by Thea Jarvis

Gloria Hall first learned about Catholics in Jonesboro when her friend and co-worker Jane Hauk began teaching a religious education class for special needs children at St. Philip Benizi Church in 1992.

“It was going to be a simple kind of introduction for them,” remembers Mrs. Hall, who was eager for her then 13-year-old autistic son, Michael, to join the group, but wondered how, as a non-Catholic, he would fit in.

One evening when she picked Michael up at St. Philip’s, Mrs. Hauk invited her in to see how Michael was doing.

“I didn’t want to go,” said Mrs. Hall, a single parent who works as a Clayton County school bus driver and teacher’s assistant for handicapped students. Though raised a Baptist, “I hadn’t been in any church since I was a child and I was really apprehensive and a little scared. Did I belong there?”

Once inside, she watched as Michael and a friend knelt at the altar and prayed quietly. It was a singular moment.

“Having Michael, I never took him to church,” afraid that his disability might cause a disruption, that he wouldn’t be welcome. Visiting St. Philip’s, she felt, “This is a place he could go. He(is) accepted. If they can accept Michael, I should try it.”

“I liked it the first time I went,” she said. The ritual and tradition were unexpectedly comfortable, the music beautiful and the people warm. Although St. Philips congregation was large and diverse, she sensed that social status was unimportant and “everyone was accepted for what they are.”

Last fall, when Michael began his second year at the church, Mrs. Hall joined an inquiry class for those interested in learning about the Catholic faith.

“I got into it right away,” she recalled. “I needed to hear all those questions” -- about life, death, an afterlife. “I needed something that was missing, a way to be closer to God and a place I could find Him.”

In October, St. Philip’s inquirers officially entered the Order of Christian Initiation (OCI) with a rite of acceptance that introduced them to the parish community.

“That touched me,” Mrs. Hall said of the ceremony. “I felt accepted and loved. I felt a peace I’ve been wanting.”

By November, the group was on its way. Wednesday night meetings were switched to Sunday mornings so the 15 candidates and six catechumens could join the congregation for part of Mass. After their dismissal following the homily, OCI members gathered with sponsors for prayer and study.

From the start, Mrs. Hall appreciated their respect for her quiet nature. “I’ve never had a whole lot of self-confidence” and felt especially shy in large groups, she said.

With OCI, there was no pressure. “I could sit and take everything in. I didn’t always have to say anything.” Trading life experiences with the group “made me feel we’re all in this together, that everybody suffers, but there’s hope,” she said.

Becoming part of Jonesboro’s Catholic community has made a difference for Mrs. Hall, a native Californian who came to Georgia as a teenager. After her divorce seven years ago, “I felt like I had failed,” she said. Holding down two jobs, raising her son and his sister Jenny, now 18 and a senior at Riverdale High, was no easy task.

Last year, said Mrs. Hall, Michael had “a lot of aggression,” the result of puberty and difficulty in communicating that usually accompanies autism.

“I didn’t know what to do,” she said, but asked for spiritual help more easily than in times past. “I prayed, ‘Please God, help Michael.’” And, she said, smiling, “He’s had a better time this year.”

As part of a job training program at Lovejoy High School, Michael arranged tapes at a Blockbuster video store last summer and now works with the shoe inventory at a nearby Target. “He’s real good about putting things in order,” his mother said proudly.

Michael learned the Our Father in religious education class and, over the past year, his mother learned it too. “He says it every night,” said Mrs. Hall, who prays with him.

Jane Hauk, herself a convert to Catholicism, realizes how Michael’s link to St. Philip’s touched her friend.

“I know how much she loves her children and wants the best for them,” said Mrs. Hauk. “The more sensitive we were to Michael, the more she cared for us.”

Father John Koziol, OFM Conv., who frequently presides at the church’s OCI and inquiry sessions, said that, like Mrs. Hall, many new Catholics make their way to St. Philip’s by way of a spouse, friend or relative already involved in the parish.

“We emphasize a spirit of welcome,” Father Koziol said, encouraging parishioners to bring non-Catholics to Sunday liturgies, making sure visitors are recognized and made to feel at home when they come. Inquiry classes are ongoing, he said, so people can begin to learn about Catholicism at any time throughout the year.

In Michael Hall’s class, Father Koziol has observed “a very hands-on approach,” special youngsters learning about God through prayer, singing, art projects. “The kids feel comfortable there.”

Added together, “these little things give a sense of warmth” and hospitality so seekers like Mrs. Hall and her family can fully experience Catholic community, he said.

Mary Mauldin, who heads the parish OCI program, said as a catechumen, not yet baptized, Mrs. Hall has the option of taking a new name as a symbol of spiritual rebirth. In her case, however, it shouldn’t be necessary.

“‘Gloria’ is the perfect name for her,” said Mrs. Mauldin, who has seen the glory in Mrs. Hall’s personal growth over the past year. “She’s a beautiful witness to the power of Jesus.”

Mrs. Hall’s daily schedule hasn’t changed -- up before six each morning, off in the big yellow school bus with Michael before seven for a 25-mile route around Clayton County. During the week, paraprofessional duties take her to three elementary schools where she helps teach mentally and physically disabled students.

“These are special children,” she said of the classes, adding that OCI has given her a heightened sense of self-worth and of the gifts she brings to her work.

Before becoming part of St. Philip’s parish family, “I was usually feeling sorry for myself,” Mrs. Hall explained. “I always felt a little guilty” about not bringing her children to church. “Maybe I was angry with God” because of Michael’s handicap.

Now, “There’s more meaning, more of a reason” to life. “Every little thing we do is important for somebody,” she realizes, and she is “more peaceful, happier with myself and with my situation. I see the importance of it all.”