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By Suzanne Haugh, Staff Writer
HerBanner Over Us Was Love
“See you at Sunday School.” Blessed words to the ears
of parents who have understood always that their child was only marginally
accepted, not only in the secular world but also in their faith community.
Until . . . there was Toni, who by her own goodness and the
grace of God enabled a whole community of Catholic Christians to appreciate and
enjoy worshipping with the “least of our brothers.” She taught us
that, “His banner over us is love.” Toni carried His banner well and
enfolded all of us in it. May she rest in the Peace of Christ.
For Toni Miralles by a grateful parent.
ATLANTA—In the tangible gift of love that remains after
someone dies, the understanding of loss and gain exist simultaneously. At the
Mass of Christian Burial for Toni Miralles, 66, on Sept. 19 at St. Jude the
Apostle Church, it was a song that brought both smiles and tears.
Having invested over 30 years of her life in the spiritual
development of people with disabilities, Mrs. Miralles molded a ministry, based
out of St. Jude’s but serving the archdiocese. It grew from a strong faith
and a love of family and friends, made evident by those who filled the church.
One of the most poignant moments came when participants in the
Ministry with Persons with Disabilities gathered in front of the altar and in
front of the casket of their teacher and friend, Mrs. Miralles. “His
Banner over Me Is Love” has always been sung during the ministry’s
liturgies and special occasions.
Standing before the congregation, Mrs. Miralles’ young and
old protégés sang and used hand motions to their theme song. They
sang enthusiastically about the “power of the cross,” “the one
way to peace,” “the rock of our faith,” and ended by bringing
the congregation to its feet. After the song ended, one woman leaned over to
another as she wiped tears from her eyes and said, “It was (Mrs.
Miralles’) song, the song she taught them.”
The song of faith began in 1969 when her daughter Felicia, who is
mildly retarded, came to the parish to prepare for first Communion. Her love
for her daughter, and desire to see her brought to the sacraments as fully as
possible, blossomed into a ministry serving many families and putting the gifts
of those with disabilities into the service of the church.
Shortly before the Mass began, Felicia Miralles blew a quick kiss
and patted her mother’s casket. The congregation sang while the graceful
hand motions of Cecilia Forbes interpreted for the deaf “Alleluia,
Alleluia, Give Thanks.” Following the entrance procession, Msgr. Louis
Naughton, judicial vicar, sprinkled holy water on the casket as a reminder of
Mrs. Miralles’ inclusion in Christ’s death and resurrection made
possible through her baptism.
Flanked by the concelebrating priests and deacons, Msgr. Daniel
O’Connor, pastor at St. Jude’s, welcomed those gathered on behalf of
the Miralles family.
“Your presence here is the greatest gift and sign of love and
friendship for Toni,” he said, calling her a “remarkable woman”
who began an “extraordinary ministry.”
Because of Mrs. Miralles, he said, “no physical or mental
disability would mean a person was shut out or overlooked but rather could
participate regularly and assist” in church life. Her perseverance has
shown us how “the table of the Lord is open to all,” he added.
While those who have known Mrs. Miralles must console each other,
he reminded them that “she is with the Lord now and has received a
faithful servant’s reward.”
Following a prayer, family members read from the Book of Wisdom
3:1-9 and 2 Corinthians 4:13-5:1.
“‘Let the little children come to me,’” read
Father David Talley, chancellor and director of vocations for the archdiocese,
proclaiming Jesus’ words in the Gospel reading taken from Mark 10:13-16.
“Anyone who does not welcome the kingdom of God like a little child will
never enter it.”
In the homily, Father Talley referred to Mrs. Miralles’
obituary in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, which like others lists the
essential facts of a person’s life.
“But there were two story lines ... two vantage points to
understanding Toni,” he said. “One was personal and one was
public.”
Father Talley retold how Mrs. Miralles’ husband, Joe, seeing
his wife begin to “slide downhill,” brought the family together for a
“difficult meeting” to plan her funeral. “One of her sons said,
‘I know it’s not possible, but I wish I could have a private
funeral.’ He wasn’t saying that he didn’t want people to be
here, but I think he was saying, ‘The grief will be so intense, I
don’t know if I can take it.’”
Father Talley pointed out the 46 red roses placed on Mrs.
Miralles’ casket at the previous night’s wake, one rose for every
year of marriage. Today Joe Miralles and the others listed as
“survivors” in Mrs. Miralles’ obituary “carry the grief
none of us can touch,” Father Talley said. “This, then, is the
private, personal part.”
The public aspect of Mrs. Miralles, Father Talley explained, began
as a mother’s wish for a daughter with special needs to learn and
participate in the Catholic faith. “She couldn’t find a Sunday school
open to (Felicia) so she started to organize her own and found many good
people. Through the work of Toni came the establishment of a ministry not only
at St. Jude’s but for the entire diocese,” he said, adding that the
Camp Will-A-Way getaway each May for those with disabilities is “one
weekend each year that I mark off.”
As he concluded explaining the public aspect of Mrs.
Miralles’ life, he went on to say, “An essential aspect is missing,
but must be known, to understand who Toni was, who she is.”
She was a “woman of faith,” he said, whose God is alive.
“You and I must look at the present and the past through the heart of
Jesus. We must look at death through his death. Toni believed in the word of
God; Toni believed in God’s love. She believed that love conquers even sin
and death. Those of us of weak faith, maybe who have not seen but have been
touched in the death and life of Toni must look to the life of a servant of
God, must look to the life of Toni Miralles.”
Father Talley likened Mrs. Miralles to the prophets, those who do
more than foretell the future; “they make the future.”
“We must celebrate this life and what it has done for you and
me: allow us to see the face of Jesus through ones loved so much.”
And because of Mrs. Miralles, he said, those gathered “can
proclaim victory over sin and death.”
As the Mass continued, many tender moments emerged from some of
the littlest and those loved by Mrs. Miralles. Her grandchildren, led by
daughter Felicia, brought forward the gifts of bread and wine; as the
congregation joined hands to say the “Our Father,” Drew Blanton, 28,
sitting along the aisle, reached over and placed his hand on Mrs.
Miralles’ casket; a mother held her son’s hand as they walked back
from Communion; and a young girl spotted one of her Will-A-Way camp counselors
and stole a hug while on the way to Communion.
In his invitation to the final prayer, Msgr. O’Connor said,
“There is sadness in parting, but we hope to see her again and enjoy her
friendship.” With the congregation singing “Be Not Afraid,”
family members and the priests then exited the church to the place of burial at
Arlington Memorial Park.
Music for those involved in the Ministry with Persons with
Disabilities has been an important part of the program. Many musicians
contributed to the liturgy. They were pianist/organist Alan Brown, cantors Sam
Hagan, Tricia Miller and Carol Wood, and guitarists Jeff Jetton and Kristen
Rausch, a special student in the ministry with the extraordinary gift of
playing the guitar by ear.
Jetton has been with the ministry for 12 years, starting first as
a counselor at Camp Will-A-Way. He found “moving out of his comfort
zone” in the ministry was “very welcoming and inviting.” The
reaction of the congregation to the song, “His Banner over Me Is
Love” exemplified a goal of Mrs. Miralles.
“One of the things she worked for was the awareness of the
community; that was evident,” he said. He said he has gained much from
working in the ministry and that, too, was noticed in the reaction to Mrs.
Miralles’ death.
“I’ve learned so much from them and Toni,” he said.
“Like how they were dealing with their grief; they would go up to the
casket and just talk to Toni. We could hear what they were saying. Why were not
all of us doing that?”
Nan Boldt, a receptionist at St. Jude’s and a Camp Will-A-Way
counselor, handed a rosary to one family member leaving for the cemetery.
“It was from one of the handicapped kids,” she later said. “He
wanted to give it to Toni.”
Boldt met Mrs. Miralles when she started working at the church in
1986 as a secretary in the religious education department. Having had a son die
at age 2 because of a brain deformity, she was always interested in
volunteering at the camp but needed to spend weekends with her husband who had
multiple sclerosis. After her husband died five years ago, she volunteered for
the annual Camp Will-A-Way weekend.
She particularly enjoys the outdoor Mass with the campers, which
she says “is what the Mass is supposed to be to me; celebrating the
Eucharist is a great feeling.”
She also likes being with the campers on the bus, leading them in
song and then observing their excitement when arriving at the campsite. It is a
special place, she recalled, where they can be “normal kids.”
“It’s nice to see them not pointed out or stared at;
we’re all just one big happy family.”
Boldt appreciated Mrs. Miralles’ persistence in organizing
this vital ministry in the church, adding that a “less determined person
would have given up.”
“I see so many images of her in my mind—a hard worker,
conscientious—she talked a lot about Jesus and the way she talked to the
kids about him they could understand.”
Sean Peek, a parishioner at Immaculate Heart of Mary Church,
Atlanta, can still hear Mrs. Miralles’ voice asking him to find two more
volunteers to serve as camp counselors, he said. And he did. “She kept
saying, ‘Sean, you’re a saint.’”
He remembered what was “his first and not his last”
experience as a camp counselor as being “awesome.”
“They have so much love in them,” he said.
“They’re going to miss her. At the last camp she told them that the
camp was for them.”
After the funeral, Peek sought out Ricky Holland, a faithful
camper wearing his Camp Will-A-Way T-shirt and a name badge around his neck.
Ricky Holland attended the funeral with his father, Richard T. Holland Sr., who
referred to Mrs. Miralles as “a mother to everyone in the world.”
“If it hadn’t been for her love and Joe’s love,
Ricky wouldn’t have been able to go to camp,” he said. “She was
a loving and sweet lady.”
As they wiped tears from their eyes, Richard talked about the
Mother’s Day gifts of birdfeeders and picture frames Ricky brought home
from camp. And Ricky put together the words: “She gave me big hugs.”
Along with her husband, Mrs. Miralles is survived by her children
Michael and Michelle Miralles, Mark and Julie Miralles, Peter and Lydia
Miralles, Felicia Miralles, Madeline and Dan Navara; her sister Tree Johnson;
and seven grandchildren, Jessica, Joey, Alicia, Dana, Angela, Anthony and
Starlin.
The family has requested that contributions in her name be made to
the “St. Jude/Toni Miralles Memorial Fund” and sent to St. Jude the
Apostle Church, 7171 Glenridge Drive, NE, Atlanta, GA 30328. |
