September 7: A Saint of Recovery

Working at Hope for New Hampshire Recovery, I am duty bound to first mention Hope’s Recovery Festival, Saturday, September 30 from 11-a.m. – 2 p.m. at Arms Park in Manchester. The festival will be fun, with the opportunity to connect or reconnect with about 700 people in recovery, learn more about 50 or so local recovery-adjacent businesses. I promise I’m not going to roll out daily callouts to those businesses, although I do want to draw your attention to one of them.

But first, I need to talk about saints.

I’m not a Roman Catholic, nor any other kind of Catholic. Still, I’m familiar with the idea of saints, those folks who are thought to have extraordinary holiness or closeness to God. As I understand sainthood, the church doesn’t create saints or honor them—it simply recognizes their status, which must include some miracles and evidence of heroic virtue. Addiction, and by extension recovery, has its own patron saint, Saint Matthias, who pinch-hit for Judas after his untimely death. Matthias is alleged to have been stoned at his death, but that doesn’t appear to be connected to his sainthood.

Matthias, of course, is a religious saint, but I want to talk about secular saints, those who bring good into the world while rejecting evil, who brighten rooms at their entrance and trail magic when they leave. The world lost one such saint a month ago with the death of my close friend, Raul, but his girlfriend, Andria LaRoche, remains.

Andria owns, operates and is the spiritual center of WorkStuff, a staffing solutions company in Manchester. WorkStuff is the Hope Recovery Festival’s platinum sponsor, with a generous $5,000 donation. You’ll have a chance to hear her at the festival, and would be wise to listen closely.

Andria, in recovery herself, recruits and hires those newly in recovery, whether they live in recovery housing or independently. With an infectious smile and bright blonde hair, Andria communicates well with everyone she meets, and always has encouragement to spare. She is, in short, “feverish feces,” if you get my drift.

She is also a saint.

Andria identifies workers’ strengths—physical, mental and emotional—instead of their perceived weaknesses—drug histories, imprisonment, homelessness—and finds work for them.  WorkStuff is a privately-owned business in a free-market economy, so I’m sure Andria is making a profit, as she should. Still, in talking with dozens of Andria’s current and former employees, I haven’t had one person complain about the money they were paid or the work they were paid to do. I’m sure there are complaints. As I recall, Judas had a few complaints about Jesus’ handling of possible donations.

Before I’m excommunicated from a church to which I never belonged, let me clarify: Andria is NOT Jesus, nor Mary, nor any other New Testament figure.

Andria LaRoche is a modern-day secular saint, who helps people raise themselves from the death of despair. Come to the festival. Hear her speak. Chat with her afterward.

She won’t bless you, but she will smile and listen.