Roses in March
From Heaven, with Love: My Second Home, Lourdes, France
Photo By: Flickr/John Hickey-Torchlight Procession
There are many places in this world, many I have seen, that are remarkable, unforgettable, and even contain miraculous articles. But my second home, the home of my heart, is Lourdes, France.
I have been to Lourdes three times since October, 2012. I am now so familiar with it that last September I spent five days and five nights alone there. But there, I am never alone.
When you stand before the Grotto itself, especially if you pray the rosary in French (as I do) at 3:30PM every day, there is a power that is so great no one can deny it. Now: what is this power? Is it the residual consciousness of all the millions of people who visit; is it their faith that creates a palpable “presence”; is it the Holy Spirit; is it the Blessed Mother, herself, whose presence is so real that I anticipate her, hear her, sense her? I called her the “Blessed Mommy” when I was a very young child and someday, in another article, I may share what happened between us when I was age five. Here, I share what happens between us when I am at home, in Lourdes, with her.
I have walked the quite difficult Stations of the Cross; I have been to the baths; I have attended Mass in the underground Church that was flooded and almost destroyed in June, 2013; the waters rose so high that they obliterated the rows of benches facing the Grotto itself. I have followed the procession of the Holy Eucharist which begins at 5PM. The torchlight Procession, beginning at 9PM, is an experience so profound that I could only address it in poetry. The one constant aspect of it is the “Ave Maria” sung between the decades. The procession begins at the Grotto and follows the Statue of Mary down one side of the long path from the main gate to the Grotto, and back again. With each “Ave” sung, everyone raises a candle. And the procession continues, following the loop, going back (slowly but surely, because there are thousands of people present) to the Grotto itself where the statue is then returned. One cannot compare this experience to anything in one’s lifetime. I have seen Pope Francis, I have attended Mass at Notre Dame, Sacre Coer, St. Peter’s Basilica, Nevers, Lisieux, Milan, Florence, etc. but not one of those experiences, even though each one was an amazing blessing, compares to this procession.
My testimony is surely required, and the reason that I write. She is there. I feel her – her presence, her great love, her intercession. She is real, not a figment of anyone’s imagination, nor a fable created by wishful thinking or poor exegesis, nor is she the delusion of a child, any child (including myself) but, in this case, Bernadette Soubirous.
My hotel last September was a narrow but quite beautiful place. My room overlooked the mid-section of the Shrine, where the procession could easily be seen and heard. There are no screens on windows and terrace doors in Europe. Each night I would open my terrace doors. As I lay in bed, I would see the flicker of candlelight and hear the rosary being said and see the see the candles being raised. It is the perfect lullaby. For the first time in years, I slept with total peace. I slept in the arms of my Mother. And I can’t stay away long. I will be there again in April, 2016, for one week.
If you are able (and this is not an easy journey, it is one day from JFK Airport to Tarbres Pyrenees Airport, and one day back again), I urge you to make this pilgrimage. We are strangers in a strange land, but our Mother has us all by the hand.
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About the Author
I was born in Manhattan and raised in Greenwich Village. At age five, I had double pneumonia and (what was later, in my adulthood, diagnosed as pericarditis). I was too ill to be put into the hospital. At that time (1952-1953) there were no pediatric wards. One day I had a near death experience. I saw the Blessed Mother (I called her the Blessed Mommy as a young child and was quite devoted to her). She warned me about my life; she told me it would be quite difficult, that my heart would be “broken”, and that God would never abandon me. The experience is impossible to relate except to say this: there was a “glow” around her that was physical; her voice was not merely a voice, it was the single most soothing sound: ocean waves, symphonies, can’t even describe it. My earthly mother saw me in this condition and shook me violently. I remember this vividly. I opened my eyes and said to her, “Leave me alone. I want to stay with the lady.” She and I discussed this many times during my adult life. That vision, NDE, or whatever it was, changed my life. I knew something cataclysmic would occur in my lifetime; I always thought it would be a worldwide event. I was wrong: it was a personal event. Without the Blessed Mother’s assurance, I would not have survived that personal event.
At age nine, my father left. When I was 10 years of age, he died mysteriously. My earth mother then passed me on to my Aunt and Grandmother who lived on Sullivan Street in Little Italy (the west part of Little Italy). Across the street was the shrine church of Saint Anthony, who has become a lifelong friend and has done many amazing things in my life. I attended the St. Anthony school and then went on to parochial high school.
I have travelled a great deal in my lifetime. In the past two years, I have been to Europe four times: Papal General Audience 9/18/2013; Paris, sacred shrines (Nevers, Lisieux, etc.), Lourdes (three times), Fatima once. Last September I spent the entire month in Italy and stayed five days and nights in Lourdes because the mother of Jesus is also my mother.
I have had visions my entire life (no, I am not mentally ill; of this I am certain). I have seen things, been given information intended only for me, and have had miraculous occurrences that are almost impossible to believe.
I lost my only child, my daughter April, on March 2, 2011. The timing involved and the date itself, as well as her age at the time (23), corresponded with the number the Blessed Mother gave me at my age five: 23. I would like to share some of these remarkable events to help strengthen the faith of anyone who is in need. I thank you for the opportunity to do so.
I have recently a published book of poetry, "The Milky Way Streets"
