Survivors’ sanctuary

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This article was published 28/04/2019 (2413 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Midday in the middle of the city, Winnipegger Yssa Licsi stops by a downtown chapel to find a little solace.

“I can quiet myself down, and I can find that quietness where I can listen to God in the midst of a busy day,” she says of her regular visits to St. Francis Chapel at the Holy Names House of Peace

Sandwiched between the parking garage of Canada’s Royal Winnipeg Ballet to the north and a housing complex for refugee woman and children to the south, not much about the exterior of the House of Peace suggests the extent of activity inside, with thousands of people stopping by each week.

“The entrance is so subtle, so people walk by,” explains executive co-ordinator Sr. Lesley Sacouman of the plain façade of the red brick building at 211 Edmonton St., constructed in 1963 as a friary for Franciscan brothers.

Just inside the recessed front doors, St. Francis Chapel, open weekdays from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m., provides a place for people to pray, or take the sacrament of reconciliation, also known as confession. Others drop by for a quiet and safe place to sit on a cold winter day, explains Sacouman, a member of the Congregation of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary, a Roman Catholic order based in Longueuil, Que.

The high-ceilinged chapel features tall and narrow stained glass windows along the west wall, running parallel to Edmonton Street, and three wood-panelled confessional booths on the east side. At the front of the space, furnished with simple, open-backed honey oak pews, stands a large statue of Mary holding the infant Jesus at the front of the chapel, reconstructed after it was found in pieces in the backyard of a Winnipeg Beach cottage.

That repaired statue symbolizes rebuilding of lives and empowerment of newcomers that underpins the foundation of the House of Peace, says Sacouman, who took over from the Franciscans 2004. Formerly the co-executive director of Rossbrook House, an inner-city drop-in centre for children, Sacouman asked existing users of House of Peace when working out how to best use the space, which at the time also included housing for nine monks at the east side of the building.

“I didn’t know I was starting anything,” she said of her original idea for the complex, which underwent an expansion of the living quarters seven years ago and now boasts 2,280 sq. metres of meeting and living space.

“I was absolutely convinced I needed to be here.”

Following the lead of those who found solace in the downtown sanctuary, Sacouman’s first step was keeping the chapel open to the 150 or so people who drop in daily. It is one of the few — perhaps only — Christian sacred spaces downtown open to the public between services.

“It’s so peaceful, it’s so lovely,” explains Selkirk resident Isabelle, who didn’t want to provide her last name, of why she comes to the mid-century modern chapel once or twice a year.

“If I lived here (in Winnipeg) I would be here often.”

Others, such as Daniel, a 29-year-old university student originally from Nigeria, drop in nearly every day to take in the quietness of the chapel.

“I’m not coming here because I’m a Catholic or a Christian, I’m coming here because I want to meditate in a quiet place,” Daniel explains.

In addition to the worshippers, several 12-step groups use the basement meeting rooms throughout the week. On Sunday mornings, the chapel is home to St. Francis de Sales Manitoba Catholic Church of the Deaf.

Down the hall from the chapel, a locked door separates four stories of living quarters for 20 women, including Sacouman, mostly immigrants or refugees, and all referred to as neighbours.

A large living room with a baby grand piano, an elegantly appointed dining room with a black marble table, a commercial kitchen, and small library make up most of the main floor. All of the furnishings and fittings are donated, says Sacouman, as well as generous amounts of food from a Hutterite colony and a private donor.

“There’s no funder. That’s amazing,” she says of the organization, which receives donations and some small grants to meet its annual $550,000 budget.

“The places the money comes from is very sudden and very surprising.”

That budget pays for building costs and salaries, although three of the eight full-time staff, including Sacouman, work as volunteers.

What’s not as surprising is the demand for the modest bedrooms on the upper three floors, with requests far outstripping the capacity, says Imee Gutierrez, an immigrant from the Philippines who first moved in as a neighbour and now works full time as the operations co-ordinator.

“The reason I stayed here is because of the community,” explains Gutierrez, who is preparing to become a licensed immigration consultant.

“It’s very rewarding and you feel like you are making a difference. That’s really what keeps me here.”

Living with other women in similar situations helps ease the loneliness of being far away from family and friends, explains Ameerah Kadhim, who left Iraq in 2015 and now works at a Winnipeg furniture factory.

“My family is here,” she says of the relationships she’s built during her nearly two-year sojourn at House of Peace.

For new resident Michelle Ang, sharing meals and common spaces with the other women reminds her of the large Chinese family she left back in the Philippines, as well as helping her adapt to Canadian culture and practices.

“This house provides you with a good foundation to start life in Canada,” explains Ang, who has a master’s degree in environmental engineering and management.

“It exposes you to the culture without leaving you in the middle.”

After 15 years of living and working alongside newcomers, Sacouman says the household of neighbours can make the experience of adapting and integrating into a new culture more manageable.

“My experience is people go to courses (for new Canadians) and it’s all said at once. It’s too much,” she says.

“It’s the day-to-day unfolding.”

That may well be the unspoken philosophy of the House of Peace, which celebrates its 15th anniversary this September. Driven by a desire make a difference while living alongside other women, Sacouman and her supporters and the nearly 200 volunteers have created a safe place where daily life unfolds for newcomers, people struggling with addictions, or Winnipeggers just seeking a quiet place now and then.

“This place here strengthens women,” explains Sacouman.

“That’s my hope. They’re all survivors. This place helps them express that.”

brenda@suderman.com