Fr. Richard Henkes, S.A.C., A Picture of His Life A Picture of His Life | Page 31

Richard grew up in a Catholic family. He felt good about his sib-
lings. He was comfortable in the shop as well as among the cows and
cattle. He knew the fields that belonged to his family. He loved the
journey through the forest towards Berod, through the meadows to-
wards Dahlen and Meudt. The path to the chapel in Goldhausen was
not long. But the Pallottine Fathers preached imaginatively—some-
times they told stories from the mission in Cameroon. Richard be-
came curious. His first communion was with Fr. Jakob Bappert, who
often came to Goldhausen. The young priest was from Lay; he taught
philosophy at the Pallottine College in Limburg and studied psychol-
ogy at the University of Frankfurt. During his first communion, Rich-
ard decided that he would like to become a Pallottine Father and a
missionary. Grandpré paved the way. It was good that the Pallottines
did not impose the full boarding rate for boarding school in Vallendar
and that the family could make up the difference in tuition with food.
On September 24, 1912, it was time for Richard Henkes to leave
Ruppach. The farewell of mother, father and siblings was difficult for
him, and he would never forget his roots. He homesickness would
serve as a constant reminder.
February 22, 1945. What is more painful now? The dull limbs or
the longing for Silesia? The homesickness for the Westerwald? The
homesickness for all the people he liked and who appreciated him so
much? Homesickness. He always bore it out of love for his vocation.
For love of Mary. Out of love for the people who were entrusted to
him. Richard Henkes bore and endured many things in his life; he
had undertaken things to be overcome, because from the beginning
he had seen an aspect of sacrifice in the priesthood. As he had written
shortly before his priestly ordination, “I will become a sacrificial priest,
a cross holder for others.” And later in the same letter: “I used to do
everything alone, now I see that I cannot do anything; but one thing I
can do is sacrifice myself for others.” He could not have guessed how
these words would become truth almost 20 years later.
Fr. Henkes is now breathing more shallowly. Did someone wipe
away his sweat? With what? In the chaos of the past few weeks, the
will to survive in Dachau has been stronger than taking care of the
dying. It is said that the Jesuit priest Otto Pies gave Henkes the sac-
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