"West Coast" hills surrounding the town, mountains behind,
sun beating down,
Waters of the River Gave rushing by,
All beckoning me down the valley and into the Sanctuary.

Almost overwhelmed by the expanse of buildings, the confusion of people moving,
Kept there by the sight of people gathering beside the river,
a procession, malades first,
standing in respect and quiet as they pass by;
praying for someone at home.

Benediction,
incense rising to the sky,
venerating a mystery of Living Bread I do not grasp
sharing the quiet and the songs
with all present.

Brief talk with a US priest who sat to listen and talk,
firmly convinced in his faith
proclaiming his truth with respect.

Sitting by the river watching it rush by.

A Mass intention, concrete, a paper from Lourdes
carrying the prayers that permeate this place.

Night fell
The candles in the grotto, over the river
shone out into the gathering dark,
groups singing, praying, their sounds like incense swirling in the air.

A sermon ranting at the devil
so I ran to a distant part of the river
until I found peace in its strong flow
and a whisper of a creator.

Returned to watch a French Mass, outdoors,
leaning against a tree trunk, enjoying their singing,
when someone who noticed me on the edges
came to wish me 'La Paix de Christe'.

Met two Kiwi women in the sun,
about to start the St James walk to Compostella,
so good to relax and talk 'Kiwi'.

Sitting by the river some more
Talking to Jesus, saying I don't know if he's there
until the peace of Lourdes came
and I could let it go for now.

Finally went to the Grotto;
a petition so others can pray for one at home.

Thoughts in my head I wish I could say.

Mariale procession
Holding candles in the growing dark
Walking together
saying the rosary in different tongues
Singing "Aves"
Walking home in peace
Waking, bathed by the same profound peace,
A mystery encountered.

Beautiful International Mass
crowded basilica
but I felt isolated amongst other languages
wanting to cry,
'Good Shepherd' reading
'Yeah right!' in my cynical mind.
Watch what you pray for in Lourdes.
Two Kiwis, Good Shepherd, coming right up.

Invited to lunch, baguettes on a park bench,
"Where two or three are gathered in my name, there I am in their midst."
Laughing and relaxing,
talking of Teresa's 'little acts of love'
of faith and reason and its Western division,
of wounds of the past,
listening to firm faith, and being exhorted to faith,
the profound peace of the Mariale procession understood as the caressing of Mother Mary,
My arm rubbed, assured I am 'really Catholic'
begin to feel like I might be.
A parting, my hands held up in a blessing
a promise of a Novena to hold me in prayer,
A precious time of togetherness.

Later, more Kiwi contact,
Honest talk 'There I am in their midst'
Together at Benediction, deep prayer beside me,
Then 'ordinary' time of friendship, eating, shopping, filling water bottles, a walk to the Gare, a farewell hug.

Leaving, for the 'real' world
The mountains clear, a morning to relish
Knowing a Novena goes with me to support me, feeling blessed,
Wondering, where to from here?