Eventually Fr. Cunningham (who was then the Provincial) and I arrived on an ex-Aeroflot plane at Robertsfield International Airport, Liberia. We were greeted by the ever-smiling Salesian, Fr. Joe Brown. From the airport to the city of Monrovia it was a picture of total devastation. All around us was the evidence of the total senselessness and futility of war. You see the shots on the TV news of destruction in the hot spots of the world where only the BBC's Kate Adie, in designer flack-jacket, would dare to tread. However, what you see from the warm comfort of your sitting room is a television war, too distant to be real. You can always escape into the cosy atmosphere of "Coronation Street, or suffer the agonies of a live football match. For the children of Liberia there is no escape, this is not television. Their life is no "soap opera"

In Liberia I stood face to face with real poverty. I felt ashamed of the quality of clothes I was wearing. I listened to first-hand accounts of families separated by war. I met boys who had been forced to join the fighting factions. Boys whose primary education had been how to use a gun. Girls who had been forced to sell themselves on the streets. As I sat in a tin shack that served as a temporary classroom, I was distracted by the sound of the waves from the Atlantic, lapping up precariously near. I was told, in matter-of-fact tones, that the school house and the homes nearby would be destroyed in a bad storm and the people would have to start to re-build their lives all over again.

Yet my feelings were not of hopelessness: my feelings about Liberia were so positive. It’s the people who fill you with such a positive sense of hope and humour. The theology of the paschal mystery took on a new meaning for me, I saw the glory achieved through suffering and pain. Easter rising out of the painful experience of Good Friday. The people have been hurt, but there is triumph in the midst of adversity, a real dignity in the face of so much pain.

Now I am back in England I am haunted by the memories. Stuck in a traffic jam on the M25 motorway or talking to Year 9 pupils in Savio High School, Bootle, no matter where I am I have Liberia on my mind. Memories that won’t go away. Warm memories of the Salesian Family Day, so many Liberians gathered joyously in the name of Don Bosco. Bright memories of the richness of the liturgy at the new Church of the Holy Innocents, where Fr. Blamoh Harris runs the ever-popular Don Bosco Youth Centre. Memories of  the many young people who wanted their photographs taken and were so keen to write to young people in Britain. Children crossing the simple bridge over the swamp in Clara Town so that they could get to school without fear of drowning. Warm memories of the friendly street boys who brought me in to their homes at 'Red Light' and "Struggle" and made me, a stranger, feel at home with them. Proud memories of ‘Don Bosco Rehab’ in Kakata and Buchanan where young men and women are working so hard in the name of Don Bosco, to rebuild their nation again. Sad memories of children doomed to a life of grinding poverty because they cannot afford to go to school. For the sake of $I00 (£70) their chance of a future is denied them, while for our children £70 might just buy a pair of the latest training shoes with that all important designer logo!

I can’t get the sound of "Don Bosco Beat International" out of my head.  Monrovia’s answer to "Boy's Own", this is a group of young men who use music as a therapy for their peers. They were the headline group at the Salesian Family Day Concert, we had already heard them play at our Mass for the feast of Mary Help of Christians. The variety and range of their act would make the voters on "Stars in Your Eyes" cry out for more. Like so many of the projects in Liberia, the group is working hard to re-build Liberia, offering their own particular talents and gifts. With just a minimum of financial help, they could do so much more. I am haunted by the memory of the two young girls I met in the Girley Street ghetto whose innocence had been robbed and destroyed by the War. These wonderful women are, for me, symbols of the hurt brought about by the Civil War. Like so many in Liberia, their lives had been turned upside down by circumstances beyond their control. In War it is the defenceless who suffer

When I look at the work of Fr. Joe Glackin I think of one of my heroes, Archbishop Romero of San Salvador. He saw himself as the "voice of the voiceless"; he brought the plight of the suffering masses to the attention of a world that had to sit up and listen to his cry for help. Romero took the Gospel of Jesus to heart, 'I have come to preach the Good News to the poor, sight to the blind, liberty to those in prison!' The Gospel is meant to bring liberation and justice to a wonderful world that is flawed and imperfect. Joe Glackin is working to involve so many people to give the young people of Liberia a chance. “Don Bosco Homes”, in co-operation with the Diocese of Monrovia and Save the Children UK, are helping so many youngsters to get the chance that has been denied to them. The Child Protection workers are helping to repatriate children, back into their home communities. I was so moved when I talked to a parent who thought that he had lost his son, a former boy-soldier only to have him brought home by the local Child Protection Officer. The great Gospel story of the Prodigal Son comes to mind. The Salesians have opened a chapel in the main shopping area called the "Chapel of the Prodigal Son”. This building is a living parable itself. It tells of the Church community alive and active in the midst of pain. It is seen as a living beacon of hope.

What is especially good to see is the follow-up work being done with families. It is not easy for these young people to fit back into the normality of family life. Just like teenagers the world over, they need their time and space. As a Salesian Priest, Joe is bringing both his ministry of service to the Lord and to the young into an act of total dedication. Like, so many, he is immersed totally in the Paschal Mystery, striving to make some joyful sense of a confused situation.

Since my return to the U.K., I have been made more aware of the catholic nature of this Church we belong to. I have re-read the teachings of Vatican II, especially the magnificent statement at the start of the Constitution of the Church in the Modern World:

“The joys and hopes, the grief and the sufferings of all people, especially who are afflicted in any way, must be the joys and hopes, the grief and sufferings of the followers of Christ.”

In other words, Christians are called to identify themselves with the real needs of people, not the perceived needs. It has been my privilege recently to work for a short time in so many of our Salesian schools. I am constantly struck by the interest and genuine concern of our children; they are so keen to something practical to help. There is a  Year 7 class in St. John Bosco High School in Croxteth who raised enough money to send a Liberian child to school. Year 9 pupils at Savio High in Bootle brought in bag loads of good quality clothing for the children in Liberia. These small but thoughtful actions of our children will not make national news, but it will make a great difference to so many young people in Liberia. Young people are our teachers. In raising needed funds in our schools and centres, we build up a bridge of communication and trust between this country and Africa. Good communication is not a one-way process. We, in Britain, can learn so much from the children of Liberia. By building up relationships between the young people of our nations, we can help do away with the ignorance and selfishness that can lead to war. I am back in England now but part of me will forever be in Liberia.