By Marjorie Engcoy

One of the last things I remember doing  in Fiji was starting a livelihood program for women – though quite unintentionally. Unintentionally, I say, because it wasn’t something  I planned for, not even remotely. I was pressured into it by expectations; in other words, I was forced. My heart was not in it, because in my mind I kept thinking, “What do I know about business? I am not the person to be doing that because I do not have the skill or talent in this field.” Day after day, I was getting annoyed by the constant comments: “You should do this, you should do that.” But the most annoying of all was hearing, “So-and-so was able to do this, so you should be able to do it too”.

In my annoyance, I found myself pestering God almost daily too―but He did not answer right away. Then came the Season of Creation 2019,  and an idea began forming in my head: a simple recycling workshop. Fiji, interestingly, is probably one of the few countries that still produces daily newspapers, and piles of them  are often stacking higher and higher in corners. So, I thought – why not put them to good use?

A few mothers came to the workshop. They were intrigued, perhaps even surprised: “Who would have thought newspapers could become baskets!” What I envisioned to be a short-term activity slowly turned into something more meaningful. The workshops became a venue for these women to come together and share stories about family life, the struggles of raising strong-willed children, loss, and many other challenges.

Soon it dawned on me that if this was to continue, I would need resources for snacks and materials. However, there’s no available funding at the time, only words of support. So, I spent what little I had and asked cloth cuttings for free from friends and acquaintances. I was lucky to have met a couple of Filipina seamstresses  in Suva and Nausori who were generous with their scraps. From weaving, the program extended to sewing tote bags, urban gardening, and even cooking activities – all of which the women enjoyed.

A few friends eventually learned about  this new endeavor of mine and began donating what they could. The little seed  was growing!

Week after week, I noticed their laughter growing  louder, carrying with it a sense of joy of simply being together. One of them shared that our Tuesday and Thursday sessions at Sema helped ease her stress—giving her a much-needed break from the chaos at home. Another one said, “Thank you for teaching me something about my own culture, something which I had taken for granted to learn for decades. I never  thought I would be this interested in learning how to weave at seventy years old.”

Later on, they began bringing their small food contribution―whatever they could afford or had on hand: a can of tuna, a couple of tomatoes, a cucumber, a loaf of bread, and so on, and we would share them during lunch. And every Sunday, after Mass, I noticed them lingering longer than before  to  greet each other and check on each other and their families.

This was why I decided to call it “Sema”—an Itaukei word that means “to connect”.

Witnessing that week after week felt like experiencing Jesus’ miracle of the five loaves and two fish in person—as though I was there when He prayed over the bread and the fish, and then asked his disciples to distribute them and  feed the five thousand, or even more. Even now that I am already far away from them, from time to time, I would still take a peek at what they’re doing, and  my heart flutters to see that they are not only thriving but  more importantly holding on to each other.

This particular miracle in the Gospel of Matthew is a stellar example of God’s assurance and provision– if only  we put our trust in Him. Day after day, He reminds me of this promise, though I can be stubborn and insist on doing things my own way. Yet, He remains  patient with me, and I believe,  with you too.

The miracle of the five loaves and two fish  also reminds us that if we truly want to have a relationship with God and the rest of His Creation, we must  participate and get involved, even if we feel like our contribution seems little. No matter how little it may seem, God can magnify it, making  it ring louder as powerfully as the big bang.

The little boy in the Gospel, though unsure  if his offering was enough, found the courage to present it to the Lord. And through that simple act, God channeled His grace and fed thousands. In the same way, we, too, are enough―because God made us more than just enough.