Riding through the streets of Tegucigalpa, the nonagenarian Sister María Rosa Leggol sits in the passenger seat singing a Christian praise song in her native Spanish and clutching a crucifix like a holy card come to life. On the radio, we hear news reports about poverty rates and the lingering effects of violence in the country. Two-thirds of the Honduran population are impoverished, and at least 170,000 children are orphaned. Later we see this Honduran-born Francsican nun, encircled by a group of reporters with microphones inches from her face, telling government officials of her displeasure.
“As long as there is a child on the street suffering, María Rosa cannot be happy,” she says.
Called the “Mother Teresa of Honduras,” Sister María, who died in October 2020 from complications of Covid-19, spent seven decades advocating for abandoned children throughout Honduras. Raised in an orphanage herself, she joined the Franciscans at age 21 and founded the Sociedad Amigos de los Niños (SAN), a ministry for disadvantaged youth in Latin America, in 1966. Through her organization, she established numerous schools and small businesses, hundreds of homeless shelters, a youth farm, and a hospital to help rescue tens of thousands of children during an extended period of political instability and the aftermath of a devastating hurricane.
Sister María Rosa Leggol spent seven decades advocating for abandoned children throughout Honduras.
Jovial, impassioned and undeterred by the word impossible, Sister María emerged as a kind of folk hero in Central America and ignited petitions for her canonization. Her indefatigable humanitarian efforts, and total disinterest in retirement, are chronicled in the new documentary “With This Light,” available on Aug. 15 in theaters and on Apple TV+. Ahead of the film’s release, America spoke with the film’s co-director Nicole Bernardi-Reis and executive producer Jessica Sarowitz about recording stories of spiritual heroism, portraying the resilience of the Honduran people and making a larger appeal to our common humanity.
America: What drew you to the story of Sister María? Did you have any personal experience with her?
Jessica Sarowitz: I was born in Honduras and then my parents took me to the U.S. when I was 2 years old. I’ve lived most of my life in Chicago. When I was about nine, I went on a mission trip [to Honduras] and met Sister for the very first time. I saw this wondrous lady bossing everyone around, waving her hands with a lot of deference given to her. At that time, it was very unusual to see a woman in charge. Then she sees me and gives me a big hug, and I remember that I felt this sort of loving acceptance.
I knew that she did all these decades of work through a lot of conflict and she was always very effective in executing her mission programs. There were these stories of how she got other people started with their programs. She was like a social entrepreneur, a catalyst. I’m thinking, “This woman’s done so much, and she has this amazing spiritual presence.” She would tell Cardinal Rodríguez Maradiaga [of Tegucigalpa], “I knew you when you were a toddler. I used to change your diapers.”
‘She was so inspiring, but she was also so human. She’d get herself in trouble, and she knew it.’
I thought that we needed to capture her recollections of some of these stories, so we could get her view. So I called up Nicole and said, “I think I have a story here about a sister.”
Nicole, what did you find about this story and Sister María that maybe was surprising to you?
Nicole Bernardi-Reis: I had produced a movie on American nuns, so I knew that power that sisters can have. And it was a good way for me to reconnect with the Catholic upbringing I had. So when Jessica called me, I was really fascinated because oftentimes, as female Catholics, we are secondary characters. I was intrigued that at the age of 91, Sister María was still pushing forward. This idea of a woman who was faith in motion was catalyzing for me. So I had to go down to Honduras and meet her.
She was so inspiring, but she was also so human. She’d get herself in trouble, and she knew it. And she was funny. Because she was so human, you felt like you were worthy enough to be loved. You were worthy enough to do good in the world.
Jessica, how did Sister María assert her leadership so that people took her seriously? What made her unique?
J.S. If you met Sister, she had this sort of special aura, and I’ve seen it in action. I don’t know what kind of special mojo she has, but when she looks into your eyes you feel she is looking into your soul. I’ve seen people become like puddles of water or clay in her hands. They’d say, “Whatever you want, Sister.” It was like being in the presence of pure good.
Nicole, how did you structure this film to cover 70 years of Sister María’s work? How did you decide what to put in and what to leave out?
N.B.R. I knew that we were never going to put everything in. I still don’t know everything she’s done, because she had official programs and she had unofficial programs. We wanted to show that the results of her work are not necessarily the programs, but the people. We were very fortunate to find two young women who were going through their own coming-of-age stories and who were in Sister’s programs. That gave us a really rich way to show Sister’s work in the present and why it was necessary. There are so many things I wish we could’ve fit in the film, but it probably would’ve been more like 10 hours.
J.S.: I felt there was a series of questions we needed to answer through the film. What are youth going through? What are their anxieties right now? We also wanted to let Sister speak for herself. We can’t go through all of the programs, it’s impossible. We also had to show Honduras and make the [Honduran people] feel proud of their story. Yes, there are harsh realities in the country—violent realities, economic and societal pressures. But we can’t show these people as victims or needing a savior to come in and make everything right.
N.B.R. We wanted to show these stories of resilience, of people taking control of their own lives. That’s what Sister did.
How did you think about the audience when making the film? Does someone have to be a “good Catholic” in order to appreciate this story?
N.B.R: No. I think Sister’s example is one that can touch everybody, whether they’re Catholic, non-Catholic or atheist. What it comes down to is a recognition of the humanity in all of us, and the ability for us to help those most vulnerable on this planet. If a 6-year-old orphan who becomes a woman with a fourth-grade education can do all this tremendous work throughout her life, then there’s really nothing that each of us can’t do in our own way.
‘With this Light’ is currently in theaters and available to rent on AppleTV+ and Amazon Prime.
