Tuesday, October 27, 2009


The blazing fire of His love,
Engulfs the universe,
Every soul in love with God,
Is fuelled by its force.
The burning love of Jesus Christ,
Calls out to all who’ve sinned,
He will not snuff the tiny wick,
That flickers in the wind.

From His pierced and wounded heart,
Flow streams of living grace,
Repentant sinners find in Him,
A prodigal embrace.
Angels jubilate in song,
When one who sins and strays,
Repents and seeks forgiveness,
In the Name of Him who saves.

The unrepentant sinner,
Who sins without remorse,
Sinning with impunity,
Heedless of God’s laws,
Shudders in revulsion
From God whose Name is Love,
Made manifest by heaven,
In the symbol of a dove.

The penitent forgiven much,
Like Mary Magdalen,
Gladly picks the cross to follow
Christ Who vanquished sin.
Called to fight the enemy,
As a ransomed race,
Receiving through the sacraments,
The power of His grace.

Myra D’Souza / 27th October 2009

Wednesday, October 21, 2009


Once upon a time there was,
A chapel in the sand,
That stood with arms wide open,
To God’s faithful little band.
From very small beginnings,
Spanning fifty years,
She grew in grace and stature,
Through prayers and toil and tears.

Once upon a time she served,
In very humble ways,
Her years of service now repaid,
With plenitude of grace.
She ministers to every soul,
Who enters her to pray,
Her loyal and devoted priests,
Help many souls each day.

Once upon a time she bore,
The scars of passing years,
Her walls were worn and peeling,
Her rooms were small and drear.
Now she stands in splendor,
Her children richly blessed,
Today she is a Parish,
Saint Therese her Patroness.

The Bishop's aspirations,
The clergy's pastoral care,
The strength and inspiration,
Of their vision and their prayers,
Have built a firm foundation,
And the worship offered here,
Will be a lasting testament,
Enduring through the years.

Myra D’Souza / 19 October 2009

Monday, October 12, 2009


I belong to Jesus, and He belongs to me,
I belong to Jesus, the Christ who set me free.
I belong to Jesus, my Savior and my Lord,
I belong to Him who is, the only Son of God.

I am His and He is mine, Beloved of my soul,
I am His and He is mine, in Him I am made whole.
He tells me I am precious, and the wonder of it all,
Is that my God has loved me, long before the fall.

Love it was that sent the Son, since love alone could pay,
The price for the redemption, of this vessel made of clay.
Amazing love with arms outstretched, upon a cruel cross,
Bartering His life for mine, He bled and paid the cost.

On the scale of perfect love, this sinner's life was placed,
In the balance it was weighed, with His measureless grace,
He has made provision, for me to have a share,
In the Father’s Kingdom, I am made co-heir.

Myra D’Souza / 13 October ‘09

Thursday, October 8, 2009

The Woman at the Well - John 4:4-42

Beneath the blazing noonday sun,
The road baked in the heat,
The woman felt as if live coals,
Burned through her sandaled feet.
Moving at a hurried pace,
She walked up to the well,
To fill her jar with water,
Poor jaded city belle.

The place was in Samaria,
The city was Sychar,
Where she encountered Jesus,
A Jew who said to her,
“Give me a drink of water.”She looked askance and said,
“Jews do not ask Samaritans
To share their drink or bread.”

“Come drink the living water,
Flowing out from me.”
“You possess no bucket Sir,
And this well is deep.”
“This water cannot satisfy,
New thirsts tomorrow brings,
The water of eternal life,
Wells into gushing springs.”
“Sir, let me have this water,
So I won’t thirst again,
Never will I have to face,
Disgrace and guilt and pain.”
“Go home and call your husband,
Then come back to me.”
“I do not have a spouse,
” she said,
“You are right,” said He.

“You have had five husbands,
And the man who lives with you,
Has not wed you in marriage,
So what you’ve said is true.”
She changed the subject saying,
"Tell me prophet,
why Jews say,
That only in Jerusalem,
Can people go to pray?

We from Samaria,
Have always worshipped here,
This mountain is the place,
That our ancestors held most dear.”

“The hour has come upon us,
When true worship will be seen,
Not on this mountain nor indeed,
In Jerusalem.
You worship what you do not know,
We worship what is true,
For salvation comes to all,
Only from the Jews.”

I know that the Messiah,
The Christ will brings us peace,
He will heal the broken hearted,
Captives will see release.”
“I am He,” said Jesus,
And faith began to stir,
Just then His followers returned,
Tightlipped they glanced at her.

The woman left her water-jar,
There beside the well,
And ran into the city
The people there to tell,
About the Man whom she had met,
Who told her all she' done,
“Come and see,” she urged the men,
“Meet the Anointed One.”
They heard her and responded,
They hurried on their way,
To meet the Lord who long had planned,
To save them on that day.
“You must be hungry Rabbi,
the disciples begged.
“I’ve had food to eat that you,
Know nothing of,”
He said..

“The field is ripe and ready,
Harvest time is near,
The reaper has received his wage,
Eternal life is here.
The laborers who sow and reap,
Together can rejoice,
In harvesting the merit gained,
Through the saving cross.”

Many from Samaria,
Believed in Him at first,
Because the woman testified,
How He had slaked her thirst.
But once they all met Jesus,
And having heard the Word,
They proclaimed that He was truly,
Savior of the World.

Like the woman at the well,
He knows all you have done,
He nailed your sins upon the cross,
The victory is won.

Myra D’Souza/8th October 2009

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Was born in Mumbai.  Studied in St. Michael's Convent in Karwar.  Went to Wadia College in Pune. Did a Secretarial course in Mumbai at Nirmala Niketan and at Burnleys Institute. Came to Kuwait at 21 years of age, and still  here.  Married with 3 wonderful children a girl and two boys and a great husband.