And with you in spirit - Blog Post

Oct 2, 2026

Personal reflection from Maria Longo describing how COVID-19 disrupted her ministry and classroom consistency while she served as a Notre Dame AmeriCorps volunteer in the Bronx. The narrative recounts a children’s fine- and applied-arts showcase honoring civil freedoms and African American culture, centering on an emotionally comforting moment with a kindergarten girl named Kahyla. It then broadens to the challenge of connecting through virtual tools and prayer, concluding with a call for faith and service despite physical distance and uncertainty.

LanguageEnglish

CategoryReligion & Spirituality

FormatPDF

Pages5

Reading Time13 min

AccessFree to download

Notes from the Field

Arts showcase and cultural celebration

Comforting a child during the performance

Building connection amid school closures

Virtual outreach, prayer, and continued duty

Blog My brother Gianpaolo and I sit at a table together at home, to complete our work assignments. Because of COVID-19, I am currently working from my family home in Powder Springs, Georgia. (Maria Longo) by Maria Longo View Author Profile Join the Conversation April 8, 2020 Share on BlueskyShare on FacebookShare on TwitterEmail to a friendPrint Editor's note: Notes from the Field includes reports from young people volunteering in ministries of Catholic sisters. A partnership with Catholic Volunteer Network, the project began in the summer of 2015. This is our 11th round of bloggers: Celine Reinoso is a Loretto Volunteer in El Paso, Texas, and Maria Longo is a Notre Dame AmeriCorps volunteer in the Bronx, New York. Toward the end of January, the school I serve at in the Bronx held its first fine-and applied-arts showcase of the semester. Because February and Black History Month were just around the corner, the department decided to focus the children's talentson celebrating civil freedoms and African American culture. I had taken huge spreads of black paper and drawn patterns and shapes on them with white pastel. The children in art class then colored the spaces with smears of yellow, gold, pink, green, orange, red and brown to create a backdrop for the stage. The day of the performance came, and all the grades crammed into the Nest, our auditorium, to watch the show. All through the morning, one of my kindergarteners—we'll call her Kahyla — had been complaining of missing her mother. She kept coming to me, hugging my legs and clutching the back of my shirt with her head pressed against my side. I simply patted her head and took her hand when the time came to file downstairs for the show. We took our seats crisscross on the linoleum floor, and Kahyla leaned against me. After a brief introduction from the music teacher, Ms. Asibu, the showcase began with a song and dance number put on by the music students. It was an African song of welcome. Fanga Alafia, ase, ase Fanga Alafia, ase, ase The more they sang, the more Kahyla pressed herself into me until she was lying on her side with her head on my knee. With my eyes, I welcome you With my words, I welcome you With my heart, I welcome you From there, the showcase worked its way through the poetry of Maya Angelou's "Still I Rise" and into a martial arts demonstration set to hip-hop. There was a presentation on Harriet Tubman accompanied by a dance about the Underground Railroad. That brought us into the soulful tune of Otis Redding's "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay" and another dance performed by the second-graders. I help my sister Elena on a puzzle when we have free time together, after working from home. (Maria Longo) I ran my fingers methodically over Kahyla's braids, and I thought to myself how lucky I was to have such an opportunity. Because of so many courageous figures who spearheaded a fight for justice, I can sit beside a beautiful little African American girl, hug her when she cries and let her fall asleep and drool on my leg during a fine-arts showcase. I brushed the fuzzy bits of hair that had escaped the tight braids close to her scalp. She was sound asleep by the end of the first song, and when the show ended, I leaned over her and shook her gently, singing, "Kahyla. It's time to wake up, sweet girl. " She stirred and sat up groggily, drool glistening on her cheek. I chuckled and used the inner lining of her sweater to wipe it away. She took my hand, and I took my position at the back of our class's line, making sure that no"kinder-baby" got left behind. These children are so dear to the hearts of our teachers, no matter what grade the faculty might teach, and I am so glad I have the chance to love on them. In some instances, I might be the only consistency they have in their lives. With school closures and the continued spread of the coronavirus, it has become difficult to show that love and affection to the children in o

FAQs

What event does Maria Longo describe near the start of the piece?

She describes a school fine-and applied-arts showcase where children’s talents focused on civil freedoms and African American culture, featuring songs, poetry, and dances.

How does Kahyla’s reaction affect Maria during the showcase?

Kahyla misses her mother and clings to Maria during the morning, and Maria comforts her, helps her take her seat, and later wakes her gently after she falls asleep.

How does Maria adapt her ministry during COVID-19 and school closures?

She notes that communication shifts to phone calls, texts, FaceTime, YouTube, and social media, alongside prayer, since it becomes harder to provide in-person affection, meals, and support.

Oct 2, 2026

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