Like all the girls I have sat and listened to the Lourdes speeches during my five years at Holy Child. Every year I noticed that there was a common thread. Nothing to do with the experiences of the girls, each of those unique, but in that every girl claimed there were no words to describe the experience of Lourdes. As a certain Maths teacher put it to me “Tell me why it’s so great everyone says it is, but nobody can say why”. When I was chosen to go to Lourdes I decided that I would not use this tired cliché. I would find the words to define Lourdes. Unfortunately, Lourdes and its indescribable atmosphere has defeated me. My hunt for the perfect word was unsuccessful. Breathtaking, magical, incredible, beautiful all seem overused and fall flat in capturing the essence of Lourdes.
Before the trip I was nervous that I would fail to be touched by Lourdes as I had been assured I would be. However, there was no need to worry as the place itself, the atmosphere and most importantly the people you meet make it neer impossible not to be. Pilgrims like Betty and Maura, two best friends from Donnybrook whose catchphrase “Ah isn’t it lovely” was infamous around the wards or big hearted Louise who, at 72 years of age, had an almost school girl crush on a young man who was ‘wasted in the priesthood’. She had us all trying to set them up by putting in a good word for her. And of course, there was John my charmer from Sallynoggin. Although he was 87, John had the spirit and ‘hutspah’ of a man decades younger. A true gentleman, he would never sit down if a female helper was left standing. John’s son had died 37 years ago in a tragic road traffic accident. His son had come to Lourdes every year and in a bid to carry on tradition John decided to make the pilgrimage himself. He admitted to me, that at first he had been skeptical and had lacked faith but now, nearly four decades on John credited Lourdes with giving him strength and hope in the toughest of times, helping him come to terms with the untimely death of his son.
After 63 years of marriage John’s wife passed away last year. She had been his life and he had found himself lost and lonely without her. One thing he found particularly difficult was singing as it was something they had enjoyed together and evoked many emotions and memories for him. One of the most touching moments was when after much persuasion he sang “on the street where you live” for the ward. A seemingly small act, which for him took real courage. It’s the moments like this that make Lourdes special.
So many of the pilgrims are simply lonely and just need someone to listen or chat to. What struck me was how grateful they were for a willing ear. Sometimes it was just banter like Maura trying to cajole me into having vodka shots in the airport. Other times they have a heavy burden that you can help to lift, be it of pain, sickness, grief or a feeling of isolation.
Watching the pilgrims being anointed at the mass of the sick I found truly inspirational and emotional. There was so much hope, bravery and unwavering faith. In Lourdes the sick and the elderly are no longer the forgotten, as they so often are in our busy, youth obsessed culture.
The energy and enthusiasm of helpers and pilgrims alike is contagious and you soon find yourself stripping off in the baths with two Mount Anville girls you met five minutes earlier. The bonds and friendships you make in Lourdes are not superficial. The relationships you enter into both with pilgrims and helpers are more open and less fake that ones can so easily be at home. For one short week we were thrown in at the deep end, asked to forget the selfishness that permeates our society and can consume us at home. One week to give of ourselves. For one week, we stepped outside our comfort zone.
Lourdes had a profound affect on me and I believe it will for anyone who goes there with a willing heart and open mind. We can spend too much time analyzing and attempting to define experiences when I thin you just have to soak it up and accept that some things are beyond words.
Without a doubt the hardest thing I had to do that week was not dragging myself out of bed at half five nor quenching the thirst of the masses with the water girls. It was saying goodbye to John. John told me he didn’t know what God’s plan for him was and if he didn’t see me next year he wanted to say we had made this the best week of his life. Being told that and the feeling that it gave me is the only way I know how to describe Lourdes to you.
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