Simonne Pace visits the Ursuline creche in Sliema to meet the nuns who have to act as mothers. They do their best for the children, but they know the maternal figure is still missing.
The doors of the Ursuline creche in Karm Galea Street, Sliema, have been open day and night for the past 100 years and the small community of Sisters living there have never said no to an abandoned child.
By time, you get to know more about the children – just like a mother who knows what her baby needs because she spends all her time with her new child
The number of children at the creche, which is run by the Ursuline Sisters, has gone down drastically since the 1960s “because more children are now being fostered or even raised by grandparents,” says Sr Stefania Caruana, who cares for newborns up till the age of one, helped by Sr Georgina Sargent and a host of other nuns and volunteers.
At the moment, the nuns have 30 refugee children under their wing, from babies to toddlers and slightly older children. At the age of four, children then move on to Angela House in Pietà, which is also run by the Ursuline Sisters and where girls live until they are 15 years old.
In the past, the Sliema creche used to host up to 60 children or more. The children also lived at the home for longer, some even till the age of nine.
“In those times, single mothers suffered shame and disdain, and very often, it was their relatives or the grandparents who brought the babies to the creche in shopping baskets so no one would suspect anything,” the 76-year-old nun recalls.
Sr Stefania, who joined the congregation of the Maltese Ursuline Sisters of St Angela Merici at the age of 17, has been working with children and taking care of babies at the Sliema creche for the past 23 years.
Terribly inexperienced after taking her vows, the young nun struggled to learn how to take care of the infants in her care and to understand what the children needed.
“Time teaches you a lot of things, but I quickly learnt the ropes, as I have always loved children,” says the gentle and soft-spoken nun.
“I love them and I show them all my love. The smaller they are, the more I love them. Children need love. Like a first-time mother, I needed to know why my babies cried, whether they were in pain, hungry or thirsty, or if they needed to be changed.”
It is very sad to see the children leave, but we are happy as long as we know they are going to a good family, where they will receive a proper upbringing. We know the children cannot stay with us forever
Sr Stefania and Sr Georgina work together, share their problems, talk to each other about the children and carry out their good deeds of the day happily and willingly.
“By time, you get to know more about the children – just like a mother who knows what her baby needs because she spends all her time with her new child.”
The children at the creche are split into four age groups: the under one-year-olds who are supervised by Sr Stefania and Sr Georgina; children aged from a year to 18 months; the two-year-olds; and three- to four-year-olds.
“It is very sad to see the children leave, but we are happy as long as we know they are going to a good family, where they will receive a proper upbringing. We know the children cannot stay with us forever,” says Sr Stefania with a twinkle in her eye.
“The best thing for a child is a good family. We do the best for the children, but the mother figure is always missing. We love them, we feed them and we give them all they need. But the love of their mother is not there.” Quite a few children who once lived at the creche still visit the nuns from time to time: “These children feel the need to know who brought them up. Some even tell us they are happy we did.”
Sr Stefania’s face lights up as she says that the surprise visits bring a ray of sunshine into the home and make her life more worth living.
“Some of the children who lived with us way back in the late 1960s or 1970s visit from America from time to time. Children who used to live here many years ago were very often adopted and taken to America to start a new life there.”
In between sad and happy memories, Sr Stefania speaks about the present-day situation, remembering two refugee siblings whose mother had drowned on their journey to Malta not long ago: “These children had spent a few days in hospital and had no one... but they were both adopted in Malta. We love these children more. Refugees need all our love and support,” she says.
The children are taken care of by the nuns at the creche from Monday to Friday, “so the mother can work and earn some money”. They are picked up on Friday evening and taken back on Monday morning.
“We give them food and clothes and help them as much as possible. They love us in return and appreciate our work. The parents tell us we are a blessing and their children are so happy with us,” Sr Stefania says.
Her day starts with prayers and Mass before the children wake up. Duties start at 7am. The little ones are given their baths and fed, followed by a short nap.
Lunch is cooked by the nuns and the day quickly passes by with more feeding, changing and recreational activities.
At about 9pm, another nun turns up for the night shift to give Sr Stefania and Sr Georgina a well-deserved rest.
Sr Stefania remembers many of the children who lived at the creche in the late 1960s. “I picture them all the time. I will work with children for as long as I can. As long as I’m healthy, my work does not stop.”
She particularly remembers a baby boy taken to the creche by a very young couple many years ago. Recalling the parents’ conversation, Sr Stefania says she will never forget the boy’s father telling the mother they should have flushed the baby.
“The beautiful boy lived with us until he was two. He was then adopted and taken to America,” Sr Stefania says.
“I’ve seen a bit of everything. But we get so much in return for the love we give these children.
“Our love towards them is their best medicine. The more we love them, the healthier they are and the better they grow. We love the children dearly and they love us too.”