Our Lady of Lourdes, continued

Coming out of the light of the rising sun…is the Virgin, the Immaculate Conception…. No wonder that at this sight wounds are healed, crippled and distorted frames are set straight, blocked senses are opened up, torn tissues are renewed, oppressed hearts expands, and poor whole selves, body and soul, are called to be that image of the image of God, so splendid, humble, triumphant, grateful, faithful, prayerful, up yonder. She crushes underfoot the dry thorns of winter, and June roses have already sprung into flower at her feet! She holds out her rosary bidding us to the ascent. Indeed, Mother of God, image of God, it is with thee we would climb rose by rose towards infinite joy…. And then light dawns for us too and we are ravished and carried away. So it was with the spectators at Lourdes who could not see the Virgin but watched Bernadette's face.

~Paul Claudel

It's the early 50s, and I am four or five years old. I am waking up in a hospital bed the morning after my tonsils have been removed. I didn't have a good night. My throat hurt so bad. I kept throwing up, and then I wet my bed. I began crying, which made my throat hurt even more. I sobbed so loudly that a nurse came running. I was very lonely and terribly afraid. I wanted my mother. Where's Mummie? She'll come later, the nurse explained, as she changed my sheets and soothed me as best as she could. I wasn't comforted much and tossed and turned but eventually fell asleep. And now, I'm opening my eyes to a new day and -- oh, happy, happy day! -- to Mummie, standing in the doorway, looking in on me and smiling. Now she's walking towards me as she sees that I'm awake, she's reaching out for me -- Mummie! Oh Mummie! I lift up my arms to her, my little heart fluttering wildly with joy. Her warm presence envelops me and fills me with peace. She doesn't say a word. She doesn't have to. All is well and all shall be well. Mummie's here!

Dearest Mary, Mother Most Wonderful, you are here with me always, especially when I feel so lonely and much afraid. You crush underfoot all my worries and sorrows, and with you I rise "towards infinite joy," the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Thank you, dear Mother! Amen.