Interview with Sister Marie Romejko
For Sister Marie Romejko, a member of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur, service has always meant crossing borders — geographic, cultural, educational, and human. From teaching young children to living in a mission in Peru, to helping adults earn GEDs in Washington, D.C., her life’s work has centered on dignity, connection, and faith. Today, living at Mount Notre Dame in Cincinnati, she continues that mission through volunteer work at the Center for Respite Care, where she offers something, she believes can be transformative: simple human presence.
2026 Transformation Awards Nominee
Sister Marie Romejko
Tell me a little about yourself.
Sister Marie says she always felt called to help others and respond to God’s call, which led her to join the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur.
Initially, she imagined herself teaching high school students, but soon realized her calling was with younger children.
“From my reading, I realized you have more power with the younger ages,” she explains. “And I was never afraid of the term power. Yes, we are to be powerful beings in a very helpful way for others.”
After about a decade teaching primary grades, she felt drawn toward another kind of service.
“I always admired people who worked directly with those of little economic means,” she says. “I thought, yes, I want to go where we have a mission in another country.”
That decision led her to Peru, where she spent eight years living and serving in mission communities, including the shantytowns outside Lima.
What did your experience in Peru teach you?
For Sister Marie, Peru became a life-changing education in humanity, culture, and dignity.
“Having to speak in a language not your native one and learning how people think and operate — it expands you,” she says. “You say to yourself, ‘Oh my God, my heart can get wider.’”
Her years there also deepened her appreciation for both Peruvian and American cultures.
“The best thing about American culture for me is our egalitarianism,” she explains. “So many cultures go by a hierarchical standard. In Peru, because I was a sister, they always wanted to take care of me first. I would say, ‘No, I’m in line. I can take my turn.’ That was foreign to them.”
One of her most profound memories came during a moment of frustration while working in Lima’s poorest neighborhoods.
“I looked around at the masses of poverty and thought, ‘I’m not helping. I’m not doing any good,’” she recalls. “An elderly woman looked at me and said, ‘Yes, you are. You’ve talked to us. The rich people down in the city won’t even look at us.’”
That moment stayed with her.
“I would always say good morning whether you knew the person or not,” she says. “You greet and acknowledge every person you see.”
How did you become involved with the Center for Respite Care?
After returning from Peru, Sister Marie earned certification to teach GED courses and worked with adults seeking high school diplomas in Washington, D.C. Later, in retirement at Mount Notre Dame, she met Sister Therese DelGenio, who invited her to volunteer at the Center for Respite Care.
“When she asked me to come with her, I looked startled and said, ‘But what would I do?’” Sister Marie remembers. “And she said, ‘Visit.’”
At first, she wasn’t sure what she could offer.
“She has all these skills,” Sister Marie says of Sister Therese. “She worked with the homeless, created shelters, and knew all the resources in Cincinnati. I thought, what can I do?”
But once she walked through the doors of Respite Care, she understood immediately.
“My reaction was, ‘I can do this,’” she says. “Because I was in Peru. I had already learned how to cross societal and cultural borders.”
What does your volunteer work there look like?
Much of what Sister Marie does is beautifully simple.
“I’m not there as a therapist or in any professional capacity,” she explains. “I’m there as a regular human being — and that’s what they are.”
Conversations often begin casually: “Hi, Michael, how are you? What’s been going on?”
Sometimes the volunteers play bingo, cards, or Parcheesi with clients. Sometimes hugs are exchanged. Sometimes, reading lessons happen unexpectedly.
“One woman couldn’t read a phrase,” she says. “I asked, ‘Do you want me to work with you?’ And she said yes.”
She now tutors a few clients informally but emphasizes that the heart of her ministry is respect and mutuality.
“What I’ve learned is that my being an ordinary person who offers them respect and appreciation creates a mutuality that we both enjoy,” she says.
What are your impressions of the Center for Respite Care?
Sister Marie describes the Center as a place of profound possibility.
“It’s a place where people get a major — I’m going to say profound — chance for a new start in life,” she says.
She acknowledges the realities many clients face, including addiction, setbacks, and loss, but says the Center offers hope and humanity in the midst of struggle.
“One woman started calling Sister Therese and me ‘besties,’” she says with a laugh. “We didn’t know we were besties.”
The warmth and affection among clients, staff, and volunteers have become one of the strongest symbols of the Center’s mission for her.
“It’s the place where two short little nuns can go in and give hugs and get hugs,” she says. “That is a great symbol of the health of that place — peace, reconciliation, and hope.”
What would you want people to know about supporting the Center?
“If people donate to this place, they can be assured that their money is so well used,” Sister Marie says. “Helping people get a new start. Helping people recover. Helping people smile again.”
Then she pauses.
“I witness that,” she says. “I am a witness to the donations being well used.”