The diocese of Grenoble-Vienne, in France, every July organizes a pilgrimage to Lourdes, aimed at different groups: families, catechumens, the sick, young people of different ages, scouts, etc. Lidwin and I asked to join the group of Hospitalité Dauphinoise, which attends to the service and accompaniment of the sick. They were five intense days, in which the rhythms of the day were totally geared towards the care of the sick and their participation in the gestures of the pilgrimage. The day for us began early, with prayer in the morning immediately before waking the sick, and ending in the evening, after having helped them all prepare for bed. The conclusion of the day for us was always marked by one last visit to the grotto of the apparition, to rest at the feet of Mary and to place everything into her hands. To each group of volunteers was entrusted a room and the sick people staying there, each with their own needs depending on their condition: from the need for help in getting dressed or washing up, to the need for assistance in all manner of daily tasks.
There were many opportunities to talk with the sick, and also with other volunteers, both during work and in the many moments of waiting for services and processions.
Everyone comes to Lourdes by different paths and for different reasons, at a particular point in their faith and life journey, with different questions, fears, desires and awareness. All, however, are somehow called there, to the feet of Our Lady.
I was particularly struck by an incident that happened with a young woman who was seriously ill. During the pilgrimage, a penitential celebration was proposed, with the possibility of confession. A purple pin was distributed to all baptized sick people who wished to receive this sacrament, to indicate who was to be accompanied by the priest. This woman reacted to the invitation with perplexity: she had not thought about the possibility of confession for many years. She was left with the memory of her grandmother who, when she did something wrong as a child, would tell her that the Lord would be angry and perhaps punish her. The elderly woman had never mentioned the possibility of forgiveness, something the priest had pointed out instead.
What more beautiful gift is there than knowing the love God has for us
“Of course the Lord is sorry if we do something wrong in His eyes, because He loves us very much, and because of that He is ready to forgive us and welcome us back. He just waits for us to ask forgiveness and look to Him again”: this is all I had time to tell her, just before the other volunteer escorted her to the elevator. In the evening, before she went to bed, she wanted to make sure I had brought the purple pin for her too, so she wouldn’t miss her chance! The next day it was really my turn to accompany her. When I picked her up after confession and brought her before the altar to lay down her little lamp, a sign of renewed life, she was smiling and moved. She repeated with wide, lively eyes, “The Lord has forgiven me.” On the way out of the church, in front of the grotto, she turned again to me and the other volunteer and said again, with tears in her eyes, “Today is the most beautiful day: the Lord has forgiven me! I have discovered that indeed the Lord is merciful and can forgive me!” She repeated this many times on the way to the hotel. Even the little gifts she wanted to buy for her nieces and nephews had a different weight: she had received a great gift that day!
What more beautiful gift is there than knowing the love God has for us? It is good to witness it. I once heard a priest at the shrine say that Our Lady at Lourdes waits for pilgrims to welcome them and “bring” them to Jesus. And that is exactly what happened.
