We often throw the word saint around as if to describe something unreal, unfathomable, or even unattainable — as if sainthood exists only as a concept, an ideal, an abstract even.
Then a woman like Patricia Wahblo enters our world — a living, breathing, walk-the-walk example of what the word truly describes: a simple, yet all-encompassing, pursuit of Christianity’s overriding mandate to see Jesus in everyone.
“When I’m working for them, I’m working for Jesus,’’ Wahblo said of her job as a Lead Direct Care Professional at Divine Providence Village, a 20-acre Intermediate Care Facility (ICF/ID) for persons with Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities (IDD) located in Springfield, Delaware County. “One day, when He sees me, He will say, ‘Well done.’”
Wahblo is the lead staff person in one of six residential buildings on a campus that supports 72 adult women, but she doesn’t call herself a leader. Her duties mirror those of her coworkers – cooking, laundry, labor, and love – she’s just been there longer than the others. Residents have several descriptions for her, including Miss Patricia, but, she said, “Most of them call me ‘Mommy.’”
An African immigrant who arrived in Philadelphia in 2000, Wahblo grew up in a small Liberian village, and her mother couldn’t read or write. She carried something more valuable than formal education, however, — an instinctive kindness for anyone in need. “Her compassion … You couldn’t miss it,” Wahblo said.
That compassion seeped into her daughter’s personality early. When Christian missionaries arrived in the village, Wahblo not only learned to read and write in her own language—she carried the mission forward. She walked dusty footpaths to neighboring villages to teach others. She helped translate the New Testament into her dialect and even adapted a Jesus film so her neighbors could see and hear the story of Christ in words that felt like their own.
She also went to Bible school and became a pastor.
Then came a bloody civil war that took the life of her husband and scattered her family. With three children in tow, Patricia fled across the Cavalla River to Côte d’Ivoire, where French was foreign on her tongue, but survival was the only language that mattered. In a refugee camp, she found Canadian missionaries and, with their help, built a small church.
One evening, standing on the riverbank, she prayed aloud: “Give me strength to raise these children alone. Let them hear my voice as both mother and father.”
The road out was long—Côte d’Ivoire to Ghana to JFK Airport in New York—and ended with a short flight paid for by Catholic Charities of Philadelphia. When she was rested and ready, she was offered the job at Divine Providence.
She had no experience caring for those with IDD. As she reasoned then, however, “God never makes a mistake. This is where I am supposed to be.” The work is not glamorous. It’s cooking. It’s cleaning. It’s taking residents to doctors’ appointments, comforting them when they are lonely, sick, disillusioned and/or confused.
It’s even making sure they have a birthday cake with candles to blow out.
“She’s authentic,” said Angela Babcock, the Administrator at Divine Providence Village. “She is not just saying words. She believes in the words she says, and she chooses to live them every day. It’s hard to choose the good every day. It’s hard to choose the work every day. But she chooses—every day—to be that person.”
Wahblo’s own children have grown and thrived from that as well. One son served in Iraq and is now a police officer. A daughter runs a daycare. Another works in medicine.
Her love and compassion don’t stop at the walls of Divine Providence, either. She still sends a piece of herself back to Liberia every other year, where she has built a daycare in her village. Parents can leave their little ones there while they work the fields. When she visits, the children rush to her, all laughter and arms.
She tells them the same thing she’s told her own children: Get to know God while you are young. She shares with them Psalms and Proverbs that have served her well. The words — they are nice, but hardly needed. It is her example that draws in the children of that village, and the adults of Divine Providence Village as well.
It is the example of a saint, living right there among them. Not a concept. Not an unattainable ideal.
A living, breathing example.
“Personally, Miss Patricia has brought hope to me,’’ said Babcock. “Whether it’s work or my personal faith journey, she has given me hope as a mother, as a sister, as a woman, as an administrator—to keep moving forward and have that strength she must choose every day. She shows that simply if you love others—if human beings take care of human beings—no matter what your job title, no matter your ability, no matter your diagnosis….
“That’s the hope that leads to the love, that leads to the change the world needs.”
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Faces of Hope is a series of stories and videos highlighting the work of those who make the Catholic Church of Philadelphia the greatest force for good in the region. To learn more about a new way forward for the Church of Philadelphia, visit TrustandHope.org. If you know someone you’d like to see featured, please reach out to editor@catholicphilly.com.
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