Women find new spiritual life with help from center

Sister of Mercy leads former prisoners to life with God and without drugs

Published: December 8, 2012

By Aprille Hanson
Little Rock Correspondent

Aprille Hanson

Tamara Townsend Ross (left) talks with Aiesha Watson and Shelly Reichard during a support group meeting Nov. 26 at the Center for Women in Transition in Little Rock.

Aprille Hanson

Tamara Townsend Ross (left) talks with Aiesha Watson and Shelly Reichard during a support group meeting Nov. 26 at the Center for Women in Transition in Little Rock.

In April, 29-year-old Aiesha Watson sat in the Pulaski County jail, about the 30th time she'd seen the inside of a jail cell since 2001.

Watson began selling drugs and drinking after the death of her father when she was only 15 years old tore her world apart. Little did she know that the sincere advice of a cellmate -- "Let go and let God" -- and a letter from her daughter, who was about to turn 11, would finally be her saving grace.

"I cried and cried and cried," Watson said. "My child wrote me a letter ... about how she wished I was there. I thought, 'Lord, I cannot be in jail for my daughter's birthday."

However, moving forward after years of living in darkness would have been impossible if not for the Center for Women in Transition in Little Rock, which helps formerly or currently incarcerated women learn skills to transition back into society with Sister Lee Ann McNally, RSM, at the helm.

"If it weren't for Sister Lee Ann, I'd be in jail right now," Watson said.

Just like Jesus' parable of the prodigal son, women who come to the center are learning how to forgive themselves and more importantly, returning to their spiritual home.

"We talk about living a Christ-like life, being or becoming who God created us to be and making choices to enable that to happen," said Sister Lee Ann, a Sister of Mercy for 47 years. "I do care that they work on developing a relationship with God and how they do that is between them and God."

Beginning as a jail ministry in 2001, the center focuses on education, re-entry, mentoring and advocacy programs.

"We are not here to evangelize them to a certain church," Sister Lee Ann said. "We are here to help people discover who God created them to be in the first place."

The real key to success lies with the roughly 48 women who come to the center for emotional support after their incarceration. Sister Lee Ann said the center is always in need of mentors to be a support system for the women and the rewards are life-changing.

"Honestly, I'd have to say I learn more every single day ... the ways I can improve myself as the eyes, ears, hands, feet of God on this Earth," Sister Lee Ann said.

The ministry does more than just open the women's eyes, it transforms their worlds.

"It's not jailhouse religion," said Shelly Reichard, the center's advocacy coordinator. "It's a spiritual awakening."

Reichard, who was incarcerated for 18 months for theft of property, will end her parole March 23.

"Thank you Jesus," she exclaimed, a far cry from where she had been in 2005.

Over two years, Reichard lost her mother, husband and her 20-year-old son, Shelton, who died of a drug overdose.

"I was angry at first," Reichard said. "I was self destructive."

After years in the program, the 48-year-old now devotes her time to working with other women at the center and attending a nondenomentional church with her 7-year-old granddaughter she calls a "spiritual little butterfly."

"I'm closer to God than I've ever been," Reichard said. "God brings you through everything if you want him to."

For 37-year-old Tamara Townsend Ross, who spent years in jail for writing bad checks, Sister Lee Ann's bluntness keeps her focused.

"You have to think of Sister with those eyes," Ross laughed. "(She'll say), 'Now honey, you know better than that.' She can chastise you like a mother, but be a friend at the same time."

Raised Catholic, Ross was actively involved in the Church, but wound up pregnant out of wedlock.

"It's like a Mary Magdalene almost, I was embarrassed and ashamed," Ross said. "So I tried to do it on my own ... I allowed my pride to get in the way."

Throughout her time in and out of incarceration, Ross still had faith, but it was misguided.

"I was far a strayed," Ross said. "I'd go say my rosary in the comfort of my own room and thought that was sufficient and it wasn't."

Instead of letting her past "choke" her spiritually, Ross said she let go with the help of Sister Lee Ann and now takes her 17 and 6-year-old sons to both the Catholic and Baptist churches.

"It doesn't matter what church you go to or if your rap sheet is longer than your age, they're accepting you for who you are," Ross said. "The church is supposed to be an extended family."

Watson, who is eight months sober and drug-free, said being able to give her 11 and 6-year-old daughters a stable Baptist upbringing is a blessing and when God calls, she now answers.

"God was at the door knocking, I turned my back," Watson said. "But I'm going to open it now."

For information about making a donation or becoming a mentor, call (501) 372-5522 or visit http://www.cwitlr.org.