Mass Offered on June 25, 2026 for All the Members of the Children's Rosary

 

A Mass was offered on June 25, 2026 for all the members of the Children's Rosary and all who help the Children's Rosary. We continue to have a Mass said for this intention on the twenty-fifth of each month. The Eucharist is such a powerful gift from Our Lord that when we wanted to extend thanksgiving to all of you, we knew of no better way to express gratitude. May Our Lord's love be poured down on all of you through the powerful sacrifice of the Holy Mass. 

The pictures above are from the Children's Rosary at St. Francis Parish in the Aliwal North Diocese of South Africa.

Journey through South Africa and Lesotho

Asher Kaufman, at 18, set out on June 28 for a yearlong trip to help spread the Children's Rosary in Europe and Africa. He spent the months of July, August and the first two weeks in September in France. He arrived in Uganda on September 15. From Uganda he traveled by car to Rwanda on September 28. After a week in Rwanda there was once more a return for more travel in Uganda. On October 11 he arrived in Tanzania and on October 26 traveled to Kenya. A visit for three weeks to Madagascar followed on November 7 and then South Africa. He spent several weeks in Cameroon and then the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). Angola, South Africa and Mozambique followed. There was a relatively short journey through Botswana and Namibia. This dispatch chronicles his return to South Africa and journey to Lesotho. 

After arriving back in Johannesburg from our exciting trip to Namibia and Botswana, there was still one place left to go, one more expedition to set forth on. That, of course, was Lesotho. We have never had any Children’s Rosary groups in Lesotho that we know of, and yet it is a very Catholic country and one with a very profound and developed spirituality.

A family member of Gail’s named Pavel generously agreed to drive us into Lesotho on short notice, and so the three of us set out a day after arriving back from Namibia.

Unlike Namibia, Lesotho is a mountainous and chilly nation, often called the “Switzerland of Africa.” And it is true that the natural, rocky beauty of Lesotho is quite impressive. It is the kind of country that seems built for a camping trip. I found the weather to be surprisingly pleasant, rather like a crisp New England October day and not overly cold, even in the early mornings.

Our drive (as you might expect by this this point) took rather longer than we had anticipated. We only arrived in Mohale’s Hoek (the diocese we were staying in) at about 3:00 or 4:00 in the afternoon, and we had left around 8:00 or 9:00 a.m.

We were hosted by Bishop John Tlhomola, the bishop of Mohale’s Hoek, and by Sister Elizabeth, a nun who also worked at the chancery. His Excellency very generously gave us two rooms within the compound where he lives.

Sr. Elizabeth was instrumental to the organization of the events that transpired during our visit. In fact, on the very afternoon of our arrival, we immediately went straight for a local school that had just finished their school day. In the late afternoon chill, we stood outside with them and spoke about the Rosary. I found that their participation was quite admirable and their interest high, which of course I was pleased to encounter.

That evening, Bishop Tlhomola and Sr. Elizabeth spent quite some time with us simply “shooting the breeze,” or speaking in a leisurely way about very casual matters, which I thought really showed his openness and willingness as a bishop to make himself available to his guests.

The next morning was Sunday. We had morning Mass at a local parish, which was replete with dancing and singing. I was able to recognize some of the words in Sesotho as they seemed to bear a resemblance to those of the Setswana language we had heard in Botswana. I was later told that they came from the same language family and that speakers of either language could understand speakers of the other with relative ease.

We were given the opportunity to speak after the Mass, and the animators of the children were so very interested by our address on the Rosary (which by this point had come through much refining after various visits in Botswana and Namibia) that they gathered the children in a nearby grotto afterward for a longer session with us.

That afternoon, we paid a visit to another priest in a different parish, and then we spent the evening with Sr. Elizabeth back at the bishop’s house.

The next morning we visited a couple of schools run by Sr. Elizabeth. One was a kindergarten, so we only popped in briefly, just long enough to say hi to the young children in each class. The other school included more grades, and we spoke to them all out in courtyard. Once again, their participation was excellent, and when I would ask various trivia questions from the Bible that related to what I was saying (such as, which angel appeared to Mary at the Annunciation), the children showed a surprising ability of recall.

After lunch, we went to Roma, another important town in Lesotho. We only had one school to visit there, and upon realizing how limited the program was, Pavel proposed we head back to Johannesburg that very night.  After some discussion, it was agreed, and so after visiting that school, we got into the car and began the long journey back to Johannesburg.

We crossed the border almost immediately as the towns we had been visiting sit right on that demarcation, but the drive afterward stretched on longer than I think we had anticipated. Those of you who read my last post will assuredly be familiar with our overnight journey through Botswana and Namibia that occurred on my last road trip. Even though this trip was not through the night, nevertheless I do recall feeling so tired as the evening wore on that I realized at some point after 10:00 p.m. that we desperately needed to keep the rather pitifully uninteresting conversation we were in the midst of going so as not to fall completely asleep. I was worried even for Pavel, the man who had volunteered to drive us. Thankfully, the conversation continued, and everyone remained awake until we crossed safely into Johannesburg. It had been a long day, and I was glad to not have to set my alarm for the next morning.

The next few days were, of course, my last in South Africa. We remained quite occupied, what with meetings and distribution of materials.

On Tuesday, we went up to Pretoria with Cecilia from that archdiocese. We visited the Cathedral where we spoke with some people from the chancery. There, they mentioned that they had interest in organizing a Rosary procession in October such as they had had in Pretoria in years gone by. We thought this would be a wonderful idea, especially since the children of the Children's Rosary were to lead the Rosary for all the attendees. After this, by a blessed chance, we happened to see the archbishop as we went into the chancery. We were not supposed to see him that day, but we did, and we were able to give him materials concerning the Children's Rosary that we had promised to give. Overall, it was a gratifying day and I look forward to what will happen with the Children's Rosary in the Archdiocese of Pretoria.

On Wednesday night, we had a dinner with some of the members of the Lebanese Maronite Catholic Church in South Africa. Thanks to Gail’s coordination, they would soon be praying a cross-country Rosary with a Children’s Rosary group in Lebanon. We saw Br. Ramzi, Joumana, and Fr. Saade of Our Lady of Cedars Catholic Church. It was a lovely dinner, and I was so glad that they are part of our South African Children’s Rosary team.

Interestingly, just before we entered the restaurant, we were still standing in the parking lot when we heard much shouting and saw people running. A group of store workers gathered around a car and began blocking and kicking it. The car drove towards the exit but then was blocked by a car coming in, and whoever was inside was made to get out. As the scene developed, people began running from all corners to see what was happening and to help in collaring those in the car. Apparently, as we learned from a coffee shop worker as she walked back from the scene, the would-be escapees were pickpocketers who had managed to make off with some goods from people on the opposite side of the strip mall; they had been spotted, and thus the chase that I witnessed.

The next day, Thursday, Gail and I visited the printer who was the one printing our Children’s Rosary book locally in South Africa, a wonderful Christian enterprise that incidentally did a very nice job printing our book. That evening, we met with Fr. Deneys Williamson, the head of the Catechetical Department for Archdiocese of Johannesburg. Fr. Williamson was a very delightful priest with a thoughtful, refined manner of speaking and very open and easy demeanor. He had helped us in making sure the Children’s Rosary was officially approved to go in the Archdiocese.

We wrapped up the evening by meeting Fr. Jean-Marie, the chancellor for the archdiocese, and someone else who has greatly helped us, for dinner. Fr. Jean-Marie had helped us, for instance, get a brief opportunity to meet Cardinal Brislin back in December 2025, and he had also connected me with the vicar for the Archdiocese of Kinshasa when I was in that neighborhood.

The next day, Friday, was my last in South Africa. The main event for that day was the brunch that Gail worked so hard to put together with all of the Children’s Rosary team leads from the Johannesburg area who could attend where we had some time to get to know each other and also some strategic discussion on how to implement the groups further in the Archdiocese.

We saw, in the course of things, some of the other tables getting a birthday celebration that included restaurant employees bringing over a cake with a candle and singing a traditional birthday tune while everyone claps along. Somehow my birthday came up in the discussion; Gail said that she had forgotten to send some birthday message back in February and that, in place of that, she would have them come with a cake for me. I was mortified, not the least of which because I felt like a birthday fraud. What should happen if they asked my birthday.

“Well, actually, it’s in February,” I would inevitably answer.

I could see it happening before my eyes.

But yet, nothing of the sort did happen. They brought the cake, sang the song, and everyone loved it, including me.

However, all good things must come to an end, and after the brunch, off we went, Gail and I, to the airport. She dropped me at the check-in desk, and I began the next phase to my trip which would take me back to Europe. How I fared on the journey back to that ancient continent I will leave for the next installment.

To see all of Asher's dispatches from his journey click HERE

Angola, South Africa and Mozambique

Asher Kaufman, at 18, set out on June 28 for a yearlong trip to help spread the Children's Rosary in Europe and Africa. He spent the months of July, August and the first two weeks in September in France. He arrived in Uganda on September 15. From Uganda he traveled by car to Rwanda on September 28. After a week in Rwanda there was once more a return for more travel in Uganda. On October 11 he arrived in Tanzania and on October 26 traveled to Kenya. A visit for three weeks to Madagascar followed on November 7 and then South Africa. He spent several weeks in Cameroon and then the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). The following dispatch chronicles his journey in Angola, South Africa and Mozimbique.

"Just after we left the Cathedral, the coast of Angola was hit by an unexpectedly severe rain storm.

After returning back to my room at the seminary, in the midst of completing work before going to bed, I began to notice water seeping in under the door. At first I did not think much of it; water had come in before during a previous shower. However, as I observed the floor under the door, I began to realize that the rapidly encroaching water was not abating in its progress; if anything, it was increasing. Nevertheless, since nothing of mine was sitting directly on the floor, I ignored it as best I could and soon went to bed.

Upon waking the next morning (Easter morning), I immediately noticed that the water had gone down from the levels at which I had last seen it the previous night. Not leaving much thought to this, I got ready for the coming day and emerged into the early morning drizzle.

Our Easter Mass in community with the seminarians was ornate and inspiring. It was celebrated by Fr. Mombo, and it was probably the shortest Mass I had attended during the whole Triduum. This was, of course, because it was not celebrated in the Cathedral but in our small community chapel.

After lunch, Fr. Mombo and I headed back to Fr. Belchior’s house(photo above). It was at this point that the severity of the rain storm became fully apparent to me. Unbeknownst to many of us in the community, roads were flooded and nearly washed out. 

As we came down one of the main roads connecting Benguela and Lobito, I saw more than one car stuck in the stubborn slush on the roadside and even one car about 60% submerged. Our hardy Toyota Land Cruiser had to slog through water a few inches high in order to make it to Fr. Belchior’s. Fr. Mombo and I were very thankful when we finally pulled up in front of Fr. Belchior’s house.

This was the final stretch at Fr. Belchior’s. We had a couple of days left in which we tried to find some special gifts to thank Fr. Belchior for his great hospitality. We had a last dinner with him early in the week before we set out for Luanda on Thursday. During that dinner, Fr. Belchior’s favorite team, Benfica (from Lisbon) was playing Arsenal (from London). He was clearly a passionate fan, freely offering advice to the players in the direction of the immutable television screen. We had arrived at the 90:00 minute mark and were beginning the penalty minutes; Fr. Belchior had just gone to grab his Benfica jersey and all of his gear when out of the blue Arsenal scored a goal. It was quite a deflating end to what had at that point been a scoreless game. One could almost feel all the air deflating out of the energized Lisbon stadium.

On Friday, we said goodbye to Fr. Belchior and boarded our bus to Luanda. It had been a blessed visit to Benguela, and we had much to be grateful for. The bus ride was as long as it had been on the way down, and perhaps even a little bit longer. Upon reaching the second-to-last stop, even the bus driver, who up until that point had remained rather silent, began making exclamations and remarks to anyone who would listen about road conditions, traffic, other drivers, and his desire to return home for the night.

I certainly sympathized. The traffic was inexorable and only growing worse as we sat there. For anyone who remembers my accounts from the Congo, this traffic was not as bad as what might be found in Kinshasa, but nevertheless, it was bad. Traffic inched for over an hour and a half before we finally reached the end of the interminable jam. It was a pitiful sight. There were some workmen, maybe about six or so, huddled about a single truck, in the midst of some small road project. This was what had snarled us for so long. Having made it past that hurdle, we were met by one of the gentlemen who is a friend of Fr. Mombo’s brother. He had been at the station with the car for well over an hour. He helped us to quickly make our way to my hotel where I would be spending the night.

The following two days very little of any significance transpired. I spent most of the time at the house of Fr. Mombo’s family, helping with household duties or simply keeping myself occupied. The only piece of actual business that transpired was when I stopped by the parish I had visited on my first day in Angola in order to meet with the children again and pray the Rosary with them one more time. That was on Friday morning.

On Saturday morning, Fr. Mombo picked me up and brought me to the airport. It was a sad moment, as many of these departures have been during this gap year. Every time one visit must come to an end, it is quite sad. However, nothing new will come of old wineskins, and so forward I went.

We had departed from the hotel significantly later than I had planned, so I was concerned that there would not be enough time at the airport for me to complete all that was necessary before the flight left. However, the airport, modern and spacious as it is, posed no problems in that regard. Soon, I was checked in and on my way to the gate. Only after clearing customs and security did I remember that I had roughly $100.00 in Angolan Kwanza that I needed to exchange, but by that point, the exchange bureaux were already on the other side of the perimeter, and I would have to see what I could manage in the Johannesburg airport.

The rest of my journey and arrival in Johannesburg proceeded without any remarkable occurrences. Gail picked me up at the airport and took me to stay with some nuns for the couple days before I would go to Mozambique. These were the Carmelite nuns in Benoni, right next to the airport. I passed a wonderful evening and Divine Mercy Sunday with the nuns, able to pray and attend Mass just steps from my room. Their campus is beautiful, with brown stone making up all of the buildings and scenic paths on which I could wander. In the evenings, the early autumn air carried the cold nip that indicated the coming winter.

"On Monday, one of the leaders of the Children's Rosary named Greg, Gail and I had a very nice meeting with His Excellency, Msgr. Henryk Jagodziński, Papal Nuncio to South Africa, Lesotho, Botswana, Eswatini, and Namibia (photo below). Msgr. Jagodziński was supportive of our initiative and advised us on steps moving forward. He was happy to hear of the recent spread in South Africa. It was also clear that the Nuncio wished for us to approach the South African Bishops' Conference to further our efforts, advice we intend to act on."

After the meeting with the Nuncio we set off for Mozambique. I was accompanied by a Fr. Ernesto, the parish priest of the Coronationville parish where Deacon Alpheus serves; he was the one to accompany me around South Africa the first time. Fr. Ernesto is a short, jovial man whose easygoing temperament hides a highly efficient and organized man underneath. Our drive to Mozambique took about six hours, much shorter than it might have taken, thanks to Fr. Ernesto’s fast driving.

We were traveling with a friend of Fr. Ernesto’s from Mozambique who was just beginning a time of ministry in South Africa.

Upon entering Maputo, we dropped the other priest off so that he could make his way to where he was staying. Fr. Ernesto then took me to a friend of his who had prepared dinner for us and was still waiting without any sign of concern at after 10:45 when we showed up. I was amazed at this level of hospitality, especially because, far from seeming upset about our delay, all she would say about it is that it was a long-awaited opportunity to have Fr. Ernesto over again.

That night, when we finally arrived at the house of the OMI order, the lights were nearly all off, and no one answered our repeated rings at the doorbell. It was rather reminiscent of the time I was in Dar es Salaam with Fr. Cleophus, except that this time I was with a local. Seeing that no one was opening, Fr. Ernesto took me to a nearby hotel where we were able to reserve rooms for the night. Despite our late arrival, we both determined to rise early in order to make it to Mass at the diocesan seminary at 6:00 a.m.

The next morning early Fr. Ernesto and I arrived at the seminary for Mass. The rector called up my companion and I to introduce ourselves since we were new faces. He did not realize that Fr. Ernesto was an old hand at the seminary since the latter had chosen to shave his beard. Only once Fr. Ernesto mentioned his name did the rector realize his mistake, to the great amusement of all.

The rector and his fellow priests after Mass extended the invitation for us to eat breakfast with them, which we accepted; subsequently, we passed by the OMI house where we were also offered breakfast. Fr. Ernesto rounded out the morning by showing me some of the highlights of Maputo, including the botanical gardens and the vast beaches. Apparently, Maputo can get quite hot in summertime (well past 40 degrees), but thankfully we were soares the extreme heat should we were there.

Later in the day, we were able to visit a gathering of Mozambiquan bishops who were in the process of having a meeting of the Bishops’ Conference. I was able (thanks to Fr. Ernesto) to sit down with the auxiliary bishop of Maputo(shown below) who was very interested and supportive of the Children’s Rosary. He promised to present the apostolate to the other bishops gathered there.

Once this meeting was completed, we, without wasting any time, turned our car around and headed for Johannesburg once more. Our visit to Mozambique was scheduled to be very short, and we had finished what we came to do.

That night, after arriving back at past midnight, Fr. Ernesto realized that he did not have the correct keys to open the gate to his parish, and so we had to go to another parish to sleep. It had been a short but packed trip to Mozambique.

After spending one day in Johannesburg, I was off again, this time for Botswana and Namibia. What became of me there and how the visit went will be the subject of the next dispatch."

To see all of Asher's dispatches from his journey click HERE

Visit to Cape Town, Oudtshoorn, and Johannesburg, South Africa

Asher Kaufman, age 18, set out on June 28 for a yearlong trip to help spread the Children's Rosary in Europe and Africa. He spent the months of July, August and the first two weeks in September in France. He arrived in Uganda on September 15. From Uganda he traveled by car to Rwanda on September 28. After a week in Rwanda there was once more a return for more travel in Uganda. On October 11 he arrived in Tanzania and on October 26 traveled to Kenya. A visit for three weeks to Madagascar followed on November 7. Most recently he has been traveling in South Africa.

"On December 9, Deacon Alpheus and I arrived in Cape Town. It was quite a journey from where Fr. Collins dropped us off in Colesburg to here. In all, it was nearly a twelve hour journey, from 10:30 p.m. to almost 10:00 a.m. the next day.

Before I enter into the visit, I wish to give a bit of historical context on Cape Town itself since I think it has a very interesting and important story of its own.

To begin with, Cape Town was for centuries an important stop on the trade route between Europe and the Far East. Seeking another way to trade with Asia after the Silk Road and the path through the Middle East became closed due to tensions with the Arabs, Cape Town (or Cape of Good Hope, as it was called) became an important stop on the sea route to Asia.

It was first sighted by Bartholomeu Dias in 1488 and then again further explored by Vasco de Gama in 1497. These were important first steps in the direction of European settlement of the region, but they did not last. The Portuguese did not take steps to form a colony on the island after they were defeated by indigenous forces a few years later.

In the seventeenth century, the Dutch arrived to set up a resupply stop on the way to the east. This was quickly done, and it was thus that the city of Cape Town was born. Gardens and orchards were planted to meet the needs of the company’s sailors coming through the harbor.

Cape Town’s long history as a Dutch colony can be seen today in the Afrikaans language, itself a variation of seventeenth century Dutch. Additionally, many region and street names are still Dutch.

However, the Dutch’s possession of the colony came to an end after the French Revolution. Having been captured by the revolutionary armies and rendered a French vassal state, the Dutch saw themselves on the losing side of a struggles against their longtime ally, the British. In 1795, Cape Town was captured by British forces. The colony subsequently changed hands during the Napoleonic Wars, but in the Anglo-Dutch Treaty of 1814, it became definitively British.

The rest of the nineteenth century saw momentous developments for Cape Town and all of the South Africa colony. Slavery was abolished in 1833, and Cape Town began making moves to establish independence for itself, such as obtaining its own parliament and Prime Minister, moves that in the end would not be successful in achieving Capetonian independence from South Africa.

At the end of the nineteenth century, the Second Boer War rocked the region, bringing to the fore the struggle between the Boers (Afrikaners of Dutch descent) and the British colonial forces. Incidentally, a young Winston Churchill cut his teeth on this war, beginning a long and illustrious political and military career.

The British won the struggle resoundingly and thus united South Africa. In the years that followed, the primacy of Cape Town was brought down by the ascendency of Johannesburg and Pretoria, financial and political hubs respectively. Maritime trade was not what it had once been, and neither was Cape Town.

During the apartheid era, the very racially integrated Cape Town saw its residents reorganized and grouped according to ethnicity; blacks in well-to-do suburbs were forcibly made to relocate to poorer townships, thereby setting up the income disparities that would plague the black community in Cape Town for many years.

To this day, Cape Town still sees strong income disparities; as we drove through the city, it was astonishing to see an informal settlement where residents live without electricity or running water in corrugated metal shacks just minutes away from chic waterfront neighborhoods where residents pay in the millions of dollars for apartments.

But to get back to our story, our bus, somewhat delayed from when it picked us up, hit traffic on the way into Cape Town, and so we only arrived at the station at nearly 10:00 a.m. The ticket had listed the arrival time as 6:35 a.m.

The driver we had reserved the night before to bring us from the station had passed us off to another driver for our ride. This driver in turn had designated a third fellow to carry out the job. Once this man backed out, yet a fourth driver was selected for the drive. The fourth one turned out to be the driver we would get, and he was waiting for us at the stop.

Once we got in and were on our way, we found it was not so simple finding the place where we would be staying that night. It was a guesthouse run by a community of Schoenstatt Holy Rosary sisters that unfortunately was a bit deficient when it came to signage on the main road. The result was that we went clear past the guesthouse and to the back of a vineyard complex with winding and narrow lanes next to the rows of grapes. Having been dropped at a very upscale restaurant at the rear of the complex, we went in to inquire where Schoenstatt might be, only to be told that it was all the way back at the entrance we had come in some time before.

After some more directions were obtained, we finally found our way to the proper place. The staff had prepared breakfast for us, which we devoured with a hearty appetite. Lunch was already paid for, and so somewhat gluttonously, we went ahead and ate lunch only about an hour later. The whole atmosphere of the place was very pleasing and calm with weeping willow trees and white swans walking through the lush grass and perfectly landscaped shrubs; I remarked to Deacon Alpheus that the neighborhood, green and upscale, gave the impression that one might just catch sight of an English gentleman riding through on his horses with his hunting dogs.

No English gentlemen having made any such appearance to arrest our attention, we decided to go into downtown for the afternoon. Our meeting with the chancery was slated for the next morning, and the proper protocol was to wait to visit any parishes until the meeting had taken place.

Therefore, we hopped on one of those red double decker tourist buses that has become so common in cities across the world. There was a stop at the vineyard, so it seemed a natural choice. Indeed, for a short afternoon visit such as ours, it provided just the right amount of exposure, showing us much of the city with detailed commentary in a short amount of time. We poked our noses into Hout Bay, with its blue-collar appearance and pungent smell of fish, cruised through Camps Bay with its luxury hotels and apartments overlooking the sterling blue sea, and strolled through the windswept avenues of downtown.

Cape Town, it must be said, is a very charming city, and I can see why it is such a cherished holiday destination for so many South African families. Its beaches are marvelous, its climate warm but not overbearing, and its storefronts quite beautiful.

Indeed, we were so absorbed by the view that we were quite startled to see the conductor of the bus indicating it was time for us to get off. We had badly miscalculated the closing time for the buses and ended up being stranded on the exact opposite side of town from where we were staying, thus necessitating calling an Uber.

One of the benefits of staying at the sisters’ guest residence was that it was also a retreat center, and there was a group of priests and seminarians on retreat with Mass each morning and morning prayer. Being told we could attend as well, we did. One of the seminarians lent us his breviary, but since it was different from the one everyone was using, we quickly got lost and had to engage in that delicate art of trying to find the right page in a book without giving away to everyone that you you’re completely lost by incessantly flipping pages this way and that.

Immediately afterward, we had our meeting at the archdiocesan chancery. The meeting was with Fr. Mark Renaud from the catechetics office as well as Msgr. Andrew Borello of the archdiocese and Gunther Simmermacher from the Southern Cross Magazine, one of the most widely-read Catholic publications in southern Africa.

The meeting was a positive one, one that I think it was good to have in person, and Fr. Renaud was able to delineate certain things he would need us to provide in order to propose the effort to his catechists.

We also managed to meet Bishop Sylvester David, the auxiliary bishop of the archdiocese at the Schoenstatt retreat center where he was speaking for the retreatants. Currently, the archdiocese has no archbishop after the departure of Cardinal Stephen Brislin for Johannesburg.

On Thursday, we left for Oudtshoorn, a small diocese to the east of Cape Town. We were supposed to visit another priest in Cape Town before we left, but the coordinating on that visit did not work out, so we went directly to Oudtshoorn.

Since there were no good bus departure times to go from Cape Town to Oudtshoorn, we took a “kombi,” a taxi van not unlike the one I rode in from Antananarivo to Antsirabe in Madagascar.

Heading east out of Cape Town, we quickly came into a very desert-like area. It was hot, sunny, and dry, and as the van sped along at nearly 90 mph, we had to close the windows as otherwise we were smote in the face by a blast of hot air as from an oven. I kept thinking that there was something off about this heat, that maybe I was just getting feverish. Then I checked the temperature; it was 99 degrees Fahrenheit.

It took us nearly six hours to reach Oudtshoorn, and we did not encounter hardly any other town of any size or importance on the way there.

The reason why we were going to Oudtshoorn was that during our trip to Rome in 2022, we had met Bishop Noel Rucastle, the bishop of the diocese, at the World Meeting of Families. We had stayed in contact afterward, and now, since I was in South Africa, we were going to visit him.

Bishop Rucastle is an extremely down-to-earth and welcoming man. Having waited for us and shown us to our rooms himself, he invited us over to his house for dinner, where he cooked and served the food. The bishop also introduced his dog to us, “the lady of the house,” as he said. He then spent the whole evening with us on his back porch, just talking and having a calm time of it. We joked and commiserated about our time learning Latin in high school and the perennial fear of getting called on by the teacher to translate a passage one is not familiar with.

For the next day, he organized a visit where we visited the Oratory of St. Philip Neri in town. Those who paid attention to the last post will recall that I also visited the oratory in Port Elizabeth. They will further recall that I said that the Oratorians are not held together by formal vows but by charity. This means that the charism of each community differs. For instance, the Oudtshoorn oratory was the first one in South Africa, and it is occupied with caring for the poor and vulnerable in a very poor black township. The Port Elizabeth oratory broke off from this one and took on a more academic mission. Also, this is an Afrikaans-speaking oratory, and Fr. Mostert, the head of the oratory, agreed to help us with the translation of some of our materials into Afrikaans, which the bishop very much wanted. The deacon and I were very impressed by what the Oratorians had managed to do with their large plot of land in Oudtshoorn, including a large valley that used to be the town rubbish heap; this they had purchased from the municipality for about R20, that is twenty South African rand. For perspective, that comes out to about $1.20. One interesting bit was that we got to watch one of the priests de-feather and clean a peacock he had just killed. I have had very little experience with slaughtering animals, so I found the experience very interesting of watching the peacock go from a fully feathered bird to a cleaned body that one might find in the window of a butcher’s shop.

On Friday, however, it was time for us to leave. The bishop took us down to George airport for our morning flight to Johannesburg. On the way, he told us the story of the George ghost. The story goes that in 1968, around Eastertime, a lady and her boyfriend were driving through from Johannesburg and that there was a bad car accident. Both died, but starting a few years later, drivers passing through would report seeing a lady dressed like someone from the 1960s standing by the side of the road hitchhiking. When she would be picked up, reportedly a short while later, she would be gone, nowhere to be seen. Thankfully, we saw no mysterious hitchhikers and so were spared such a ghoulish experience.

As the bishop dropped us off at the airport, I was sad to wrap up this trip around South Africa, but I knew it had been all we hoped it would be and that I had had a grace-filled experience.

Arriving back in Johannesburg, we were picked up by Gail and taken to a parish in Edenvale to speak to parishioners about the Children’s Rosary. I must say that I was continually astonished throughout the trip at how Gail was able to arrange all these meetings, especially on such short notice. Not only were there parishioners there, but people had brought food from the supermarket too for a light meal afterward.

That afternoon, we headed over to a parish another part of the city to briefly meet Cardinal Stephen Brislin, the Archbishop of Johannesburg. We were told by those at the chancery to talk to him at this parish where he was doing confirmations. This was because the cardinal had such a busy schedule that we were not able to meet with him formally. Nevertheless, he took time with us, accepted the gift of the Children’s Rosary book and flyer as well as the Child Consecration book and A Soul Prepared through Suffering. We had already begun working in parishes and begun collaboration with the Catholic schools office of the Archdiocese of Johannesburg, so the Cardinal was happy to hear of that and encouraged us in our work.

That evening, to wrap things up, Gail and I paid a visit to Br. Also, a member of the Heralds of the Gospel, a religious community all over the world but with a presence also in South Africa. They do important work with families and parish communities to truly bring Christian formation through retreats and other means. Despite the late hour, Br. Aldo showed us around the residence and gave us his attention. Gail had had a lot of experience with the Heralds of the Gospel going back many years, so this was a natural place to visit before I left.

At the end of the day, before going to bed, I joined the monthly Rosary broadcast on Radio Maria to pray the chaplet, Rosary, and Litany of Christ the King. Since the team was short one member, I was able to join in. Thus ended my last full day in South Africa; it was extremely busy but nonetheless blessed as always.

On Sunday, my flight was at 2:30 p.m., so I was able to go to Mass that morning in Rosebank, an upscale neighborhood in Johannesburg. That is the parish of Deacon Gerald Rodrigues, who had been on the Radio Veritas broadcast at the beginning of the trip and with whom we had had lunch right before I left for Aliwal. It was good to see Deacon Rodrigues again and to go to Mass at such a beautiful church.

After Mass we had a meeting with Joseph Simon_ from the parish and a young lady from Pretoria named Manushri_. Manushri_ has designed materials for young kids to help them understand the Our Father prayer, the Hail Mary prayer, and the Mass, and she currently supplies schools and catechesis programs with these materials. She gave some to me, and I must say they are very smartly designed tools, easy to understand and detailed in their explanations. She works a lot with children, and I was so glad we had a chance to meet with her; she is one of those young people who is just on fire with the Lord and who galvanizes you in just talking to her.

This pleasant meeting concluded, Gail and I went to pick up my bags and bring me to the airport. It had been such a good time in South Africa, especially traveling around the country with Deacon Alpheus, that I felt just a little bit loath to leave as I boarded my flight and we took off.

My next stop was Cameroon, and we shall see what became of that leg of the trip in the next post."

To see all of Asher's dispatches from his journey click HERE

Visits to Aliwal North, Port Elizabeth and De Aar, South Africa

Asher Kaufman, age 18, set out on June 28 for a yearlong trip to help spread the Children's Rosary in Europe and Africa. He spent the months of July, August and the first two weeks in September in France. He arrived in Uganda on September 15. From Uganda he traveled by car to Rwanda on September 28. After a week in Rwanda there was once more a return for more travel in Uganda. On October 11 he arrived in Tanzania and on October 26 traveled to Kenya. A visit for three weeks to Madagascar followed on November 7. Most recently he arrived in South Africa.

"Upon setting out for Aliwal North, the bus left Johannesburg Park Station in the evening and arrived in Aliwal at about 2:00 a.m. I should say that this visit to Aliwal would not have been possible without Br. Henry Bukenya, the brother who has done so much for the Children's Rosary in Uganda and Rwanda. He knew Bishop Kizito quite well and put us in contact. 

We were picked up by Fr. Mlulami New, a priest of the diocese. Bishop Joseph Kizito had invited me to come with Deacon Alpheus, but he was not able to be there himself. Fr. Mlulami took us to stay at a "youth centre" not far from the diocesan offices. This youth center was a place of retreat, it seemed, with dormitories and large open space outdoor activity. There was a Stations of the Cross path that wound its way up the hill nearby; both Deacon and I wanted to do this but never got around to. 

In Aliwal, we were quite busy; the same morning when we arrived, we had a meeting with not just Fr. Mlulami but also Sr. Gladys (a nun of the diocese), Sr. Petronella from Zimbabwe, and Fr. Joseph Bukenya (another priest of the diocese in charge of children and originally from Uganda). 

After our meeting, we were given a tour of the youth center and were able to see all of the good work they are engaged in, such as providing training courses free of charge to young people to train them in the trades, such as carpentry, plumbing, and welding. They also had much livestock, such as chickens, pigs, cows, and bees. 

The next day, we visited two parishes in Aliwal North. I spoke and we all prayed together at each stop. These were in townships where the parishioners were very poor, and I was able to see how the lifestyle there differed from just a short distance away in town. The children were wonderful to pray with, and they took well to the rosary.

Everyone we spoke with in Aliwal as so supportive of the Children's Rosary that I am very confident about the future of the movement there. 

Soon, however, it was time to leave, and on Thursday evening we took the bus to Port Elizabeth. Port Elizabeth is one of the most important coastal towns in South Africa, and during our stay there we visited the Oratory of St. Philip in town. 

The Oratories of St. Philip are communities based on the one St. Philip Neri ran in Rome when he was alive. The priests are secular priests who are bound together in community by no formal vows but simply by charity. In Port Elizabeth, there are eleven priests and brothers, though they have many responsibilities, including at the nearby school. There is a wonderful atmosphere of prayer at the oratory, fueled both by the Oratorians and by a core of devout young parishioners who come together for prayer of the Rosary, adoration, and other devotions quite frequently. The parish was engaged in a Triduo to Our Blessed Mother based on the prayers and meditations of St. John Henry Newman. 

Christopher Robinson, a general medicine doctor and parishioner at the Oratory knew Gail well, and that was how we became connected there. (Christopher shown above in the blue shirt)

I ended up addressing some of the young people at a dinner on Friday night and meeting with leaders of the faith formation and a teacher at the school nearby; they were very interested, and we will work together on getting a group going hopefully at both places.

Then deacon and I finished up by attending the parish braai (a South African version of a barbecue) on Sunday after the Mass. 

It was just after this braai that we set off to visit Fr. Collin Bowes, a priest from Nouport, South Africa. He is an exorcist who has dedicated his priestly ministry to fighting the devil; he is an extraordinary man. A number of healings have been reported in the lay press as a result of his work. He is very well known across South Africa. 

I was so happy we had been able to meet with Fr. Collin because not only is he going to try to speak to the bishop about beginning Children's Rosary groups in his diocese of De Aar, but also he agreed to record some testimonial videos for us regarding the importance of the Rosary and his experience working with children in his ministry. 

Fr. Collin is quite a man, now 91 and still very active, building statues and framing images and renovating his property where he lives, not to mention serving more than one church."

To see all of Asher's dispatches from his journey click HERE

Arrival in South Africa

Asher Kaufman, age 18, set out on June 28 for a yearlong trip to help spread the Children's Rosary in Europe and Africa. He spent the months of July, August and the first two weeks in September in France. He arrived in Uganda on September 15. From Uganda he traveled by car to Rwanda on September 28. After a week in Rwanda there was once more a return for more travel in Uganda. On October 11 he arrived in Tanzania and on October 26 traveled to Kenya. A visit for three weeks to Madagascar followed on November 7. Most recently he arrived in South Africa. The Cathedral of Johannesburg is shown above.

"It has been about a week since my last post, and I wish to send a long overdue update on how my trip to South Africa has gone.

I left Madagascar on November 27. The visit had been an enjoyable and productive one, and I was so happy how it had turned out. If truth be told, there were times when I was not sure whether or not the planning would come together for me to be able to go. However, thanks to the hospitable efforts of Fr. Bertrand and the others at the La Salette community, the visit was wonderful. The children were devout, the teachers and priests were receptive.

On the morning of November 27, just after I woke up, I received notice from the airline that my flight to Nairobi had been delayed from 4:30 p.m. to 9:40 p.m. Some hours later, they sent an update that the delay would be until 10:40 p.m. My connecting flight from Nairobi to Johannesburg, originally slated for a 9:00 p.m. departure, would now be at 7:45 a.m. the next day. Thus, instead of coming in around midnight, I would be arriving at 11:00 a.m. the next day. This was a bit unfortunate as it necessitated the shifting of some meetings that morning.

Nevertheless, after these initial changes, the flight schedule held steady with no delays. At the airport, the man checking me in was kind enough as to let me get by with two overweight bags without penalty.

The flight departed uneventfully, and I arrived at Nairobi airport at around 2:00 a.m. Trying to sleep as best I could, I found little success and instead contented myself with saying a few prayers and wandering around the terminal a bit. In the course of this, I ran across a bishop from Zambia; we met, and I told him about the Children’s Rosary; we exchanged contact info.

The arrival in Johannesburg went smoothly though the wait in the line for passport control was unexpectedly long and slow. This left Gail Walters, the lady coordinating my visit in South Africa, to wait by the arrivals terminal for nearly two hours.

Once we got out and after having navigated through Friday afternoon traffic, We made it to St. Anthony’s parish in Coronationville. This is where we met Deacon Alpheus and Tyrone Julius (shown directly above with Fr. Khunou), two men who work in that parish and have done much for the community in Coronationville.

While I was there, we spoke about the big challenges facing the community there, which were as Deacon Alpheus told me, “alcohol, gangsterism, and drugs.”

Each of these in turn has had a devastating effect on South African society, not just in Johannesburg but also in Cape Town, Kimberley, and many other large cities.

Children grow up in families where lifestyles built around these are considered necessary to survive. In certain neighborhoods around Johannesburg, killings of innocent people and vengeful shootings are quite common. Children are often made to think this is the only way for their family to make money, and so they are brought into the culture of crime early on.

After speaking with Mr. Julius and the deacon, I went with Gail to the parish of St. Charles Borromeo, the parish where I would be staying for some days. It is in Victory Park, a neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. It is a very well-to-do neighborhood.

I met Fr. Tony, an Oblate of Mary Immaculate who is also the pastor of the parish. Fr. Tony welcomed me right in, showing me to my room and giving me a tour of the premises. A few years ago, that parish was the motherhouse of the OMI order, but since they have moved, there are numerous vacant rooms there.

The next day, Saturday, Gail took me to Radio Veritas, a Catholic Radio station where she and I participated in a show that will air during Epiphany. We recorded the show with Deacon Gerald Rodrigues and Cynthia Stimpel, the host. We discussed some readings about Epiphany before Cynthia asked me about my work with he Children’s Rosary. I found the subject matter very interesting and everyone involved very kind.

That afternoon, Gail and I went to go run some errands that were needed, such as collecting funds for the trip. We took a drive into Sandton, a suburb of Johannesburg and one of the most affluent postal codes in the country. It is home to the Johannesburg Stock Exchange and numerous notable hotels and convention centers. Whereas Johannesburg has seen somewhat of a long decline in the last few years and a deterioration of the downtown, Sandton has drunk deeply of the cup of Johannesburg’s urban flight, absorbing much of the wealth that has fled Johannesburg.

In the evening, we returned to the parish for a Christmas market. Small stands had been erected surrounding the parish hall on the broad field, each with some small array of goods to sell. One had pickles, one had fruit concoctions, one had candles, and one had Christmas trinkets. Everyone was enjoying taking in the early summer evening and the Christmas carols being performed on the stage nearby.

On Sunday, I had an engagement to speak at the parish of St. Anthony in Coronationville. Just before the final blessing, Deacon Alpheus invited me up to address the congregation. I spoke on the importance of the Rosary and the Blessed Virgin Mary in our spiritual lives, and I encouraged the congregation to begin a Children’s Rosary group. After the Mass, the parochial vicar (who had been the celebrant), told me they were thinking to begin the groups in the Catechism classes. Many congregants came up to share their thoughts and ideas of places I should go, which was very helpful for later developments.

That afternoon was rather calm; after attending to a few more pressing matters, Gail returned me to the parish where I had a nice dinner with Fr. Tony.

On Monday, we went to visit the Padre Pio retreat center near Pretoria (shown directly above). This is a Franciscan retreat center where a lot of retreatants stay. We were welcomed and taken around by Fr. Ewald Nangay(shown below), originally from Tanzania. 

As a Capuchin, he knew Archbishop Ruwa’ichi, whom I had met when I was in Dar es Salaam, and he knew some of the priests I had worked with in Moshi. I thought the visit very fruitful as the priests at the retreat center meet many people as they come in and are thus able to spread the word about the movement.

That afternoon, we had lunch with Cynthia Stimpel and Deacon Rodrigues, with whom I had recorded the radio show. It was interesting to get to know both of them. Cynthia had worked for many years for South African Airways and had been fired for blowing the whistle on a high-profile corruption scandal that rocked the airline for years.

My final day in Johannesburg was Tuesday. In the morning, we went to visit the Chancery and the education offices. We met with, among others, Fr. Jean-Marie, the chancellor. Our meetings with them were productive, and we were able to identify ways to work together to role out the Children’s Rosary in the schools and parishes. Since it is now school vacation time, any work with the Catholic schools in South Africa will likely have to wait until summer break is over.

In the afternoon, we stopped in at a healing service with Fr. Joseph Wilson, an Irish-born priest known for his work in the healing and deliverance ministry across South Africa. The service, before the Blessed Sacrament, was very powerful; people were prayed over, and some had physical reactions; it reminded me of Pope Francis’s metaphor of the Catholic Church as a “field hospital.” Truly, here was Christ, working through his priests, among his people, healing their spiritual wounds.

I wished to speak a bit with Fr. Wilson at the end and seek his advice concerning some matters in my own life. The result was that we had a close shave on the drive to the bus station that evening. Every time we ran into some traffic, the ETA inched dangerously close to the departure time, rendering us nervous and antsy. Nevertheless, we arrived with plenty of time, and the bus hit prodigious amounts of traffic on the way into Johannesburg.

Finally, though, it arrived, and I boarded with Deacon Alpheus, who had agreed to accompany me on my little tour of South Africa. After leaving Johannesburg, we set out for Aliwal North, Port Elizabeth, Noupoort, Cape Town, and Oudtshoorn. What became of us on this adventure I will leave to the following post."

To see all of Asher's dispatches from his journey click HERE