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Ms. Indumati Medford
May 21, 2007

I have tried several times to write this story. I guess I wasn’t ready. I am ready now, to let the whole world know about my conversion story- from Hinduism to Catholicism
My story is so different from many stories you’ve heard before. First of all I was not searching for God. It was so amazing that He was looking for me. He was leading me to him.
I was born into a Hindu family in Trinidad on December 17th, 1952. My parents, especially my mother, was the practicing Hindu. My father just followed her. And I just went along with them. My life t home was not the traditional Hindu daughter. I was born very late in my parents marriage- my mother was 35 and my father was 37. I have one sister who was born 9 years before me. In traditional Hindu homes- even in the Caribbean, sons are very important. I did have a baby brother who died when he was one and half years old. I was three. So I became the spoilt daughter. Again not very typical.

At the age of 5, I was sent to a Presbyterian school. My father was responsible for building 12 Hindu Elementary Schools and yet I was sent to a Presbyterian School. I learnt nothing about my religion. No Hindu lessons, nothing. At age 11, I entered Naparima Girls High School- another Presbyterian School- from age 11-17. So I only knew the Lord’s prayers. In those days we said the Lord’s prayer 6 times a day- morning before classes, before 10am break, after 10.15 break, before lunch, after lunch, then before school was dismissed. Fortunately, this system still takes place.
I knew all the Christmas carols and I was always in the Christmas pageant, either as Mary or as an Angel. At age 14, I chose to study religious knowledge as one of my subjects, not giving it a second thought. The subject was very simple. I studied the gospel of St. Luke. At age 15, my favorite book was “Dear and Glorious Physician” by Taylor Caldwell. All of this was also strange for a Hindu girl. I did not know a thing about my religion, but I had no thoughts of converting. I was quite happy the way I was. At this time my mother had gotten quite ill, so she couldn’t do her prayers as often as she used to. And my father never really bothered. And I sided with him. As I said, it was unusual for an Indian daughter to be so spoilt by her father.

At age 17, I went to the University of the West Indies in Jamaica. By age 18, I got engaged to a Catholic. But I never wanted to change my religion. The topic never even came up, except the day before the wedding. At which point I was very angry.

So I got married at Our Lady of Perpetual Help in San Fernando, South Trinidad on April 7th 1974. The only thing I had agreed to was to baptize my child in the Catholic religion. My husband was a medical student and I never remembered going to church. He was always too busy or too tired. And I couldn’t be bothered I wasn’t the Catholic. My son was born on August 23rd 1975: I named him Johann Kristopher Nand. I never realized that I had given him 2 saint names. He was also baptized one week after birth because his father had to fly off to Jamaica.

By 1980 my marriage was very shaky. My husband and I were in 2 separate countries, I was teaching in Trinidad and he was doing medicine in England. And everything around us was falling apart. It was a marriage with no foundation. I was the strong, outgoing one and I walked out of the marriage. I fell in love with a married man- one big problem- he was Catholic. I thought that by the time that I had gotten my divorce, that he would get his divorce as well. I did not know how grounded this one was in his faith. Which was quite a contradiction. He was so Catholic, yet he fell in love with me. I got divorced in 1984. My friend and I lived together from 1980-1003- yet he never got a divorce. But he was the main pillar in my life. You see my mother died in 1978, my marriage was shaky and I could not cope. I was lonely and unhappy. After my mother died, my father became a drunk. He just could not cope with the loss of my mother. They were married for 49 years. And in those days, the marriage was arranged and they did get married very young.

In 1978, my only sister, brother in law and 3 children packed up in August to live in Toronto, Canada. Everything was falling apart really fast. So when I met my friend in 1980- he became the rock in my life. And he did care a lot about me. At this time he had stopped going to communion, but he never stopped going to church. Of course, I did not really know anything about the church so it made no difference to me. My son made his first communion at Presentation College, during his religious knowledge classes. I was not present because I did not know about it.

After my divorce, life began to get a little easier- there were no fights with my husband. But by then my young son was becoming rebellious and I wanted to remarry. The only good thing was that my son and my friend liked each other a lot. So they got along. And my son got along well with my father and his father’s father and mother. So he had people to support him.

Since I had become the prodigal daughter, my family and friends disowned me. The most amazing thing is that my father never put me out of his house. We were angry with each other most of the time, but he never disowned me. That meant a lot to me because it boosted my self-confidence. My sister, my cousins, my friends, they all turned against me. So my group became my father, my son, my boyfriend and my business. I buried myself in my work.

My friend and I traveled a lot- to the states and to Europe. And we went to many churches. At first I never went with him, but gradually I started going. As you know in large cities, the centre of the city is the Cathedral. So I started visiting cathedrals and churches. Actually one of the first most beautiful churches that I visited with my dad at age 12, was in Montreal- The Notre Dame Basilica. I just fell in love with the building. At age 12 I bought myself a souvenir from the church- I found the “Infant Jesus of Prague” very cute. Of course I did not know anything about the statue. I just found the Catholic Church and the Hindu Temple very similar- with all the idols etc.

In Europe- again the church was the beginning of a city tour. I have been to French, Latin, Spanish, Italian and Greek masses- not knowing what was going on in my life. In 1990 we went to Munich – and I saw a brochure for oberramagau- the live passion play. And I chose to visit there. Of course we could not get to see the play. Tickets are sold every 10 years. But I came out of the church and I said- I am coming back here in 2000!! In Greece, in 1994 I had a choice of tours- I chose to go to Corinth because I knew about St. Paul. I had also visited the isle of Patmos- not knowing this was where St. John had died. I had no idea why I was choosing to visit these places!

In 1991, I did witness a miracle. Even though I was a Hindu, I used to have a large crèche at Christmas time. And I was actually a godmother of a 3-year-old catholic girl. God was working in all directions of my life- my goddaughter was diagnosed with leukemia in February 1991. Eight children in her hospital yard died. A friend of mine in my business place asked me if I wanted my crèche blessed. I said “yes!” I had not hang ups about religion. So I was asked to pick up three ladies who were Catholics, in their 70’s, who were accustomed to praising God by clapping and singing. Of course I did not know about Charismatic, but I said “yes!” When I picked up the ladies. I forgot to tell them about my goddaughter. So during the blessing of the crèche I heard one of the ladies taking about the blood disease that the child had. My eyes flew open and I looked at them in amazement. I did not know about Discernment or Tongues or Prophecy. But I was witnessing all this at the same time. I could not understand what was going on. I thought they had become a group of shouter Baptists!!

By the following year my goddaughter was totally healed. It was quite an experience- to be part of all the prayers that was going on

Then in March 1993 a friend of mine visited Bethania in Venezuela. And she brought back a statue of Our Lady filled with holy water. I almost laughed at the gift, but being very open minded, I just quietly accepted my gift. That statue went through some very hard times with me. I was going through a very difficult year in 1993. I left my boy friend because I realized he was not going to marry me. I was so hurt that I hit out hard at him and the world. One thing I liked a lot about my friend, he protected me just as much as my father. So when I left- I decided I had had enough of my sheltered world. I went absolutely crazy for 3 months- drinking, smoking, and gambling. My son was in shock at my behaviour. But I felt so betrayed and hurt. Every night I would keep the statue of Our Lady on my bed (it was made of plastic), when I was angry, I would fling the statue across the room.

But in August 1993, another miracle took place. There was a huge flood and I remembered locking my door and begging Our Lady not to let the water come inside my house. The water stopped one inch from entering the house!! I was getting confused now. I could not understand why Our Lady was answering my prayers. I broke off my new relationship after 3 months. But I was glad that I had a chance to see the outside world. However I was happier to run back to my sheltered world.

Then on December 29th my son got into a major car crash. He was speeding and the road was wet. He hit an island on the road; the car flipped on the hood and skidded for over half a mile. The car was a total wreck. But my son and his friend never even got a scratch. I was a wreck too. I took my son to the 3 ladies for prayers and the firs thing one of them said, “Do you know what saved you?” “Your mother’s prayers” I cried like a baby, because I could not understand why was God listening to me, a sinner. At this time my friend and I had drifted back together.

In March 1994 my father got very ill. All types of tests were done but the doctors could not figure out what was wrong. He was eventually diagnosed with cancer of the stomach. This was a very painful suffering period. I kept turning to my friends for prayers. I had no other support. All my friends were Catholics. Thank God no one mentioned conversion. Actually one did, and we did not speak for a while. My father suffered quite a lot and I found myself spending more and more time with him. I quit my job and I was at home with him. We talked and laughed about many things. He even made his peace with my friend, who supported me fully in my decision to stay at home with my father. My son was now attending Grade 13 in Canada so it was difficult for me and very lonely.
My father died on July 21st 1995 at 4.30am. It was the most peaceful death I have ever witnessed. Actually I had never witnessed any before- but at the moment of his death, his hands were clasped in prayer and I took one hand in mine and put one in my son’s hands and we both said the “Lord’s Prayer”. The only prayer I had ever known. I know the very moment my father went to heaven- because as we finished the prayer, his eyes opened and they were shining so brightly and he was smiling.

Less than one month after my father’s death. My son started complaining about his knees. Due to many severe attacks of asthma, he was given large doses of steroids, which destroyed his knee joints. So now God had me permanently on my knees, praying for my son. He went to Toronto- University of Toronto in September 1995, but then in December 1995 he had to have the first set of surgeries on both knees. Of course he went back to Canada but he could not walk because of the pain and the cold. So he had to quit university

In September 1996, he had another set of surgery. Nothing was helping. By March 1997, his therapist said that the only solution was to go to Boston to operate. I immediately went to my prayer partners and discussed the situation. One of the ladies, who is now my godmother- told me that next week we would go to Father Trevor Nathasingh. Now I could not understand God’s sense of humor. First he sent me to a Presbyterian school, now he was sending me to a Catholic Priest!!
We went to the priest and the prayer session was so powerful that all I did was cry. I guess I was crying for my sins. One week after the prayers, my son’s therapist phoned me and told me that we did not have to go to the states; the two doctors who we were supposed to visit were coming to Trinidad in September for a conference, and during their free time they would operate on my son’s knees. By this time I did not know what the Lord was doing to me. I just know I was in the middle of a chess game- like a pawn piece. And God was actually moving the pieces along. All this time I was praying, I was only meeting priests and lay people of the Church- I was so confused!! I started going to the Blessed Sacrament room- anything to save my son. I even asked Fr. Trevor if I should convert- because he too was a convert and his answer was “ Don’t ask me. God will let you know when”

As a mother I thought I had made a terrible mess of my son’s life. I never realized that God was using my son to save my life.

As I mentioned earlier, at age 12, I had visited Montreal to Our Lady of Notre Dam Basilica and in July 1997, I had an opportunity to return. My niece was with me. When I came out of the church- the date was July 3rd, her dad’s birthday, she asked me if I had changed my religion. And I blurted out “ I will not change my religion” On July 12th back in Trinidad, going to pray with Fr. Trevor, I was extremely quiet. My godmother to be was saying all the prayers-rosaries etc. I said nothing. In Fr. Trevor’s office, I remember opening my eyes and I say my feet were on separate tiles-So I said in the middle of the prayers “Father, I am tired of having both feet on separate tiles. It’s time that I put them together.” Fr. Trevor shouted out “praise God, come next Easter and I will baptize you.” I just do not know what happened!!

I then started going to mass every Sunday and even during the week. I also started attending prayer meetings at Living Water Community in San Fernando. My life was rolling along at full speed. My friend fully supported what was going on in my life. He too was busy praying for my son. Of course by now I had to make drastic decisions. I could not continue with my relationship and I did not know how to end it. I had known my friend for 17 years!!

In September I saw an ad to go to Bethania, Venezuela on a pilgrimage and I felt a great desire to go. At the end of September, the two American doctors came to Trinidad and all arrangements were made for my son’s operations- both knees again. This surgery lasted over four hours. Steel pins over 4 inches long were put in his right leg under the kneecap to prevent the knee from deteriorating. At the end of the surgery, when I was about to pay the doctors, they looked at me and said “ we heard you were praying for 2 doctors and we are Italians are we are Catholics, so we cannot charge you.” That surgery was to have cost thousands of dollars!!!

At the beginning of October I left for Bethania- on October 12th for the feast day of our Lady of Pillar. I just wanted to say thanks personally to our Lady for everything that was going on in my life. Of Course I could have simply said thanks in a church in Trinidad, but I was determined to go to Bethania. I had the most incredible experiences. I saw visions of our Lady and Jesus. And I cried and I laughed till I thought I was going mad. I always say that I left Trinidad as a Hindu and I returned as a Catholic.

In January 1998, problems started between my friend and I. Everything was moving so fast. I felt like I was on the outside looking in at my own life. I could not understand what God was doing to me and I could not understand why he wanted me- a sinner. I told Fr. Trevor that I was not ready to be baptized in Easter of 1998. Of course that wasn’t true. I could not handle saying goodbye. Remember, I had to give up on the only relationship I ever knew.

By March my friend and I were quarrelling so much that I realized that I had to leave Trinidad. The only problem was that I had never gone far alone. So God in his great sense of humor arranged my life for me. At the beginning of March, the spiritual director with whom I had gone to Bethania came to me and said that she was going away for 3 weeks. When I said, “I want to go too”, she said, “Child, are you mad? The trip is full; you do not have a visa. You will go next year.” I said, “you do not understand. I have to go far away from Trinidad.” On Tuesday I phoned Living Water Community in Port of Spain and I was told I would go next year. On Wednesday, I went to the prayer meeting at Port of Spain. Again I was told “next year!!”

Well for a change, God and I were on the same wavelength. On Friday morning at 9.30am the phone rings and Rose asks me if I was ready to go to Jerusalem. I screamed so loud, I ran into my room and shut the door to make plans. We were leaving on Sunday! Rose said someone got sick on Thursday night and I was the first person she could have thought of. My “yes” was as loud as “Mary’s” yes. I then called my son into my room and told him I was leaving on Sunday for Jerusalem. His reaction was “ Mom, you are finally mad. This is halfway around the world, not next door or the states!!” He then stormed out of the house.

I then went to the bank to purchase my foreign money and I told my friend that I was going to Jerusalem. Of course when my mind was made up, no one could have changed it for me. He did not discourage me however. I think at this time he realized that God was calling me away from him. But I never for one moment realized that God used to take such drastic actions. He took me to Jerusalem!

On Sunday March 5th 1998, I left for Jerusalem. No thought of baptism was on my mind because I knew that I was coming back to Trinidad to be baptized during the Easter Weekend. 2 days after we arrived in Israel, the priest and my spiritual director asked me if I wanted to get baptized in the River Jordan. I thought the entire hotel would have heard my “yes.” I could not believe what was happening in my life.

So on March 12th 1998 at 2.30pm I was baptized in the River Jordan. I have 2 godmothers: Rose Jackman, the spiritual director of the trip and Monica Gonsalez, the lady who was always praying for and with me. I also have 2 godfathers: Fr Robert Llanos and Fr. Trevor Nathasingh. On March 13th, I received my first communion on Mt. Tabor. What a privilege- The Mount of the Transfiguration. On April 12th 1998, I was confirmed at St. Peters Church, Carenage in Trinidad by

Fr. Llanos on Easter Saturday.
This is my story of my journey home. God knew that I was extra special, so he had an extra special treat for me. There is no other record of another Trinidadian being baptized in the Jordan River- renewing their vows yes, but not being baptized!! Since my baptism I have been extremely blessed to visit many shrines. I have always loved traveling. Now I was seeing the world as a pilgrim
 
March 1998 Israel & Jordan
December 1998 Our Lady of Guadaloupe, Mexico
March 1999 Bethania, Venezuela
May 1999 Our Lady of Knock, Ireland
April 2000 Our Lady Rosa Mystica, Montichiara, North Italy
April 30th 2000 Cannonization of Saint Faustina, Rome
May 2000 Israel & Mt. Sinai, Eqypt
October 2000 A trip of most of the European Marian Shrines
Fatima- Portugal
Garabandal- Spain
La Sallete, Paris- the Chuch of the miraculous medal- France
Our Lady of all Nations- Holland
Rome
Jerusalem
Medjugore
March 2001 Bethania, Venezuela
September 2001 Our Lady of Guadaloupe, Mexico
August 2002 World Youth Day, Toronto, Canada
October 2003 Divine Mary Shrine & Our Lady of Cheztohowa, Poland
Beatification of Mother Theresa, Rome
 
 
I have no idea why God chose me or called me by me name. But Psalm 139 says it all
 
“ I know everything about you. I knitted you in your mother’s womb. I knew you before you were born. I knew all the sins you were going to commit and yet I loved you enough to still create you.”