It took me quite some time to fall asleep last night. So much had happened, and it was so late... Without a clock in my room, I wasn't sure how long I had until daylight. 5 or 6 hours of sleep, 7 max. Using a flashlight, I read into the early morning hours, waiting for sleep to come. As I curled up under the covers, I reviewed my day, the final adventure in Lourdes.
I came to the grotto that evening with a few slips of paper in hand and my backpack slung over my shoulder. Two of our adult leaders, a few pilgrims and I had come back through the city and to the shrine so that we could get our final souvenirs and some more water from the springs. We had to take an alternate route to get into the shrine, as there was a very special play going on in the main square. We caught a glimpse of some of the actors; Specifically, men in turbans and knights in shining armor. (It appeared to be a Passion play, but now I'm not so sure...) After staring at the actors for a good thirty seconds, we went up to the springs. I had four glass bottles to fill, eight rosaries to wash, and a Lourdes key chain (compliments of the Knights of Columbus, thankyouverymuch!) to dip in the water. One of my friends had brought a page of prayer intentions written by her mother in water soluble marker. She filled a water bottle at the springs, tucked the paper inside, and we all watched as the words and prayers began to dissolve into the water. Once we had all finished, we walked past the crowd that was gathering for the nightly candle lit rosary and approached the area designated for prayer intentions. There are two rows of black carts that can hold hundreds of candles (for which they ask a donation), which varies according to the size of the candle. I took out a few American dollars and got a small one, which is actually fairly large, about a foot or two long. I lit it and placed it with the others, calling to mind the intentions of my family and friends back home as well as my own personal intentions. The papers I had brought with me had intentions from home scrawled on them, and I left them with the candles, unsure of where else to put them. When everyone had lit their candles, we stood by the grotto for a final Hail Mary.
Once we were back in the city, things got intense. There were crepes to be eaten, (which I wasn't able to experience on account of my nut allergy and the popularity of Nutella in Europe) , berets to be bought (I had purchased mine the day previous along with a friend, making us trendsetters!), and last minute ice cream runs to be made. As we dashed from store to store, we snapped a few photos of the buildings around us, and headed for the ice cream stand. As I waited in line for my share, I looked to my right to witness one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.
We have seen a lot of Franciscans around, at Lourdes, Loyala, even the airport! Their feet are bare. They wear only simple brown robes made of coarse fabric. They live a life of poverty and prayer, inspiring people as they go. Near the ice cream shop, we noticed a pair of them, hunched over, talking with someone. It was a poor beggar, a man whose face I cannot remember, one of the many people who ask for money on the streets of Lourdes. I have tried to pray every time I see someone in need of money, since I often cannot help. But these two Franciscans were doing more than just offering a coin or two. They handed the man food, cleaned the space around him, and conversed with him for several minutes. Then they packed up and moved on. It was touching and served as a model for how we should treat the poor.
After seeing the poor people of Lourdes, I have been struggling with the concept of charity. I'm young, inexperienced, and often naive. I can't do what those Franciscans do, at least not on my own or in a foreign country. I have given coins when I can, but this seems insufficient. I have been so lucky in my life. I have little to complain about. Seeing poverty, or sin, or a different lifestyle tends to unnerve me. But the Lord calls us all to serve the poor. How can I do this? The question drifts through my mind as I turn over on my side in bed, pushing back my hair, wet from my shower. How can I help?
I can't give you a complete answer yet. May I'm not called to help those who are financially poor, but those who lack an education. Or maybe those who lack faith. Bernadette was so poor... I am so wealthy. But there is more to giving than numbers, minutes, what have you. It is the gift of self. Those Franciscans knew how to give. I have much to learn. I'm no Mother Theresa, or Blessed Pier Giorgione Frassati (my favorite), or Saint Francis. But I have to trust that Jesus will give me the strength when I have none, and that He will tell me how I am supposed to help, where I am to go, what part I am to play.
A fleeting thought concerning the amazing taste and texture of French ice cream, and I fell asleep.
Monica Burke
I came to the grotto that evening with a few slips of paper in hand and my backpack slung over my shoulder. Two of our adult leaders, a few pilgrims and I had come back through the city and to the shrine so that we could get our final souvenirs and some more water from the springs. We had to take an alternate route to get into the shrine, as there was a very special play going on in the main square. We caught a glimpse of some of the actors; Specifically, men in turbans and knights in shining armor. (It appeared to be a Passion play, but now I'm not so sure...) After staring at the actors for a good thirty seconds, we went up to the springs. I had four glass bottles to fill, eight rosaries to wash, and a Lourdes key chain (compliments of the Knights of Columbus, thankyouverymuch!) to dip in the water. One of my friends had brought a page of prayer intentions written by her mother in water soluble marker. She filled a water bottle at the springs, tucked the paper inside, and we all watched as the words and prayers began to dissolve into the water. Once we had all finished, we walked past the crowd that was gathering for the nightly candle lit rosary and approached the area designated for prayer intentions. There are two rows of black carts that can hold hundreds of candles (for which they ask a donation), which varies according to the size of the candle. I took out a few American dollars and got a small one, which is actually fairly large, about a foot or two long. I lit it and placed it with the others, calling to mind the intentions of my family and friends back home as well as my own personal intentions. The papers I had brought with me had intentions from home scrawled on them, and I left them with the candles, unsure of where else to put them. When everyone had lit their candles, we stood by the grotto for a final Hail Mary.
Once we were back in the city, things got intense. There were crepes to be eaten, (which I wasn't able to experience on account of my nut allergy and the popularity of Nutella in Europe) , berets to be bought (I had purchased mine the day previous along with a friend, making us trendsetters!), and last minute ice cream runs to be made. As we dashed from store to store, we snapped a few photos of the buildings around us, and headed for the ice cream stand. As I waited in line for my share, I looked to my right to witness one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.
We have seen a lot of Franciscans around, at Lourdes, Loyala, even the airport! Their feet are bare. They wear only simple brown robes made of coarse fabric. They live a life of poverty and prayer, inspiring people as they go. Near the ice cream shop, we noticed a pair of them, hunched over, talking with someone. It was a poor beggar, a man whose face I cannot remember, one of the many people who ask for money on the streets of Lourdes. I have tried to pray every time I see someone in need of money, since I often cannot help. But these two Franciscans were doing more than just offering a coin or two. They handed the man food, cleaned the space around him, and conversed with him for several minutes. Then they packed up and moved on. It was touching and served as a model for how we should treat the poor.
After seeing the poor people of Lourdes, I have been struggling with the concept of charity. I'm young, inexperienced, and often naive. I can't do what those Franciscans do, at least not on my own or in a foreign country. I have given coins when I can, but this seems insufficient. I have been so lucky in my life. I have little to complain about. Seeing poverty, or sin, or a different lifestyle tends to unnerve me. But the Lord calls us all to serve the poor. How can I do this? The question drifts through my mind as I turn over on my side in bed, pushing back my hair, wet from my shower. How can I help?
I can't give you a complete answer yet. May I'm not called to help those who are financially poor, but those who lack an education. Or maybe those who lack faith. Bernadette was so poor... I am so wealthy. But there is more to giving than numbers, minutes, what have you. It is the gift of self. Those Franciscans knew how to give. I have much to learn. I'm no Mother Theresa, or Blessed Pier Giorgione Frassati (my favorite), or Saint Francis. But I have to trust that Jesus will give me the strength when I have none, and that He will tell me how I am supposed to help, where I am to go, what part I am to play.
A fleeting thought concerning the amazing taste and texture of French ice cream, and I fell asleep.
Monica Burke
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