Sr Consilio casts a nod toward a group of young men sitting in a circle holding bongo drums. “They are in the drugs unit. They would have been up to all sorts, into everything. But it doesn’t matter. We are not our behaviours. They are great lads,” she smiles.

Celebrating 50 years of service to the people of Ireland through her addiction treatment programme, Sr Consilio is sitting next to me on a stone bench in her newly built garden of remembrance at Cuan Mhuire in Athy, Co Kildare.

She has guided thousands of people in deep despair through the chaos of denial, acceptance and rehabilitation, and I ask what she has learned about addiction.

“Really I never gave a lot of thought to addiction. It’s the person, where they are coming from, where they are going to, what they need to deal with and how they can be transformed to become their own beautiful selves. I never once have used the word to label any of them. I wouldn’t even think of it,” she says.

Countrywide

The Cuan Mhuire network, which has grown to include five treatment centres in Kildare, Cork, Down, Galway and Limerick cares for 600 residents at any given time. Some 57% of Ireland’s residential alcohol addiction treatment beds are provided by Cuan Mhuire. The figure is 30% for drug treatment and almost 50% for gambling.

One of the recent changes Sr Consilio has noticed is the advent of waiting lists. “We never had them before. I hate them,” she says. Central to her ethos is the belief that every person who walks through the door is an opportunity to welcome Jesus.

“The Lord himself. What greater privilege could we be allowed in life? They know I love them, I can’t help it. I just love people. I hope I will love them forever, right into eternity,” she smiles.

And it is an extraordinary smile. Sr Consilio radiates warmth. She hugs everyone she meets and holds hands. She turns 80 next year but she is light-footed, stepping over flower beds in her newly planted garden.

She is also razor sharp, fixing her light-brown eyes upon my face as I fire questions at her in a bid to sum up her 50 years work.

Her story is one of faith, courage, dedication and love, which she attributes in full to Our Lady.

“Of all the friends I have ever come across, Our Lady stands out. She is a best friend to the whole world – if they just knew about her. The Queen of Heaven doesn’t do things by halves.”

Sr Consilio Fitzgerald joined the Sisters of Mercy in Athy in 1959. She trained as a nurse and midwife and worked at St Vincent’s Hospital in Athy, where she first encountered alcoholism.

In 1965 she convinced the sisters to convert the convent dairy into a drop-in centre, and from there she began to help those afflicted by addiction and homelessness.

“I thought, someday, somewhere I will have a place these people will call home,” she remembers.

Criticism

It was a tough period for Sr Consilio. She’d taken a vow of obedience and worried the work she was doing was causing dissent in the convent.

There was criticism locally, with talk of her work attracting “ne’er do wells” into the area.

“When you have a lot of people saying you are doing the wrong thing, it’s very hard to think yourself that you might be right,” she says.

“I had a reverend mother who was an extraordinarily good, holy woman. She supported me with her silence more than anything else. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to be a nuisance in a convent, and I found that was what was happening. I had to question myself over and over again,” she says.

In 1972 she went to an auction and bid on a 42-acre field with no way to pay for it. She told the solicitor to “leave the payment part to the end”.

“It was around this time I really had to depend on Our Lady. She never once failed me.”

The programmes at Cuan Mhuire (12 weeks for alcohol and gambling and 20 weeks for drugs) include detoxification, meditation, group therapy sessions and a fresh environment based on discipline, to quiet the mind.

Testimonies of those who overcame destructive behaviour through Cuan Mhuire’s rehab programmes refer repeatedly to self worth.

Sr Consilio says it took her some years before she realised the person who addicts needed to be loved by, was themselves.

“We in Cuan Mhuire have a tiny glimmer of the value of a human being. No one can put a price on a human being,” she says.

“No one can even attempt to say how valuable and precious they are.”

*Cost wise, private health insurance will pay for treatment. For someone on social welfare, a percentage of their payment is required, up to €140 per week. However, staff are keen to stress that nobody is turned away from Cuan Mhuire.

*One third of the organisation’s funding comes from statutory bodies, including the Health Service Executive, one third comes from residents’ contributions and the remainder is provided through fundraising and donations.