Lourdes, Day 8: Andrew, Nicolas, and I made it to 9 a.m. Mass. A man started speaking to me in Gaelic …? He told me he just assumed I was Irish.

Isaac is still a little warm, but is perking up. (Isaac had a fever the day before). The boys and I picked up some pastries and fruit to bring back to everyone. When we got back, oatmeal was on the burner. We went back to the basilica and went into the children’s line for the baths. A German man named Andre helped us and told us that if we came back at 1:30 he’d make sure we went straight through. We saw our Irish priest friend who gave us more crucifixes. So, we went to the grotto again and Thomas was too cute. He kept putting his head to the stone and kissing it, holding his new crucifix up. What a stinker! People see him and think, “What a cutie!”, not knowing how miserable he’d been five minutes before.

Then we made our way to the Stations of the Cross that you have to climb up the hill to get to. What a lovely walk. The statues are golden and huge. It begins with a holy staircase that you are supposed to climb on your knees. Ouch! I’m such a wimp. But we all did it … Scott with the porky baby on his back. The last stations were amazing. Our time for prayer is brief and to the point. I keep telling God that he knows what’s in my heart. He’ll just have to please take it.

We met a nice French couple who showed us the flowers of a nearby tree that smell like honey and apples that can be used to make tea. We picked some to bring with us. Then we made it down to the baths, and the man there kept his promise. It was lovely, not quite as shocking. These ladies are little saints, I think. I keep looking at Mary, asking her to hear her son, to answer him in some way. On our way out the man, Andre, gave all the kids little gifts, a rosary or a prayer card. He gave Eli a Benedictine medal which he fastened to his scapular.

We went to the water stations and a beautiful woman from Belgium came to me, apologizing over and over, that she just had to come to me and see if these were all my children … and they are so beautiful … Such a kind thing to tell an exhausted mother. Isaac told me that when he was in my tummy he knew we would come here. Later, on a funnier note, I heard Elijah ask Isaac what “big thing” he was going to do in his life. Isaac answered, “Grow a mustache?” I’m laughing just remembering it.

Now it’s 4:00. Thomas is sleeping and Scott took the kids for a late lunch. He brought my food back and now they are out looking for a post office. We hope to get to Bernadette’s little house afterwards and the older kids can go with Scott to the candlelight procession.

Later: I got the kids to bed. Elijah went, hesitatingly, to the candlelight vigil with Scott. He was very glad he had gone. His candle caught the holder on fire, but a kind stranger gave him theirs. I think he really enjoyed the time with just Scott.

I forgot to mention the Franciscan sister we saw this morning (Poor Clare?). Now there was a Franciscan I could understand. This strange woman with bare feet and a tattered habit comes marching in the Centre and lays prostrate before the crucifix, kissing the ground. She took my breath away. I wanted to meet her but she rushed off … somewhere.

As I re-read these notes I am so struck by the catholicism of our Catholicism, the universality. We were approached by so many strangers from all over the world, who simply wanted to connect with us in some way, with or without a common language. They were a gift to us. I wonder why each of them made the journey to Lourdes, what gift they went home with, if they remember us...