Our fourth School party numbered 29 persons, and included Fr. Norman Brown, a blind priest of the Westminster Diocese, four boys from St. Vincents School for the Blind Liverpool, and Nicholas Biggs, a physically handicapped boy, of 16 years.
I had no difficulty in waking for morning Mass. The scurrying and laughter of several first year boys in the room next to me and outside in the corridor, made sleep impossible. Their timing was perfect, only enough for me to wash, shave and dress, dash down the stairs and join the rest of the school party on its way to the grotto. It was our first day in Lourdes. We had arrived the evening before and had seen little of the town and its places of worship. Now the school party was approaching the huge Rosary Square for the opening procession of the Catholic Schools Annual Pilgrimage. It began under the huge statue of Our Lady and led to the grotto where Mass and the opening prayers of the pilgrimage, were to be said. I was anxious to see and examine Lourdes - its buildings and natural surroundings; the many pilgrims participating in the wishes of Our Lady; and to compare all these with my own imaginations. I wanted to understand the meaning and purpose of the devotions and ceremonies, and experience that feeling which so many find difficult to describe, during their stay in Lourdes.
The procession had already started, and we left the square, singing, and reciting the rosary. It was rather cold, but by singing as hard as I could, I soon forgot this. I noticed the distant Pyrenees Mountains were partly hidden by some greyish cloud which hung above the foothills surrounding Lourdes. As we approached the grotto, the singing gradually subsided and we arranged ourselves for Mass. The waters of the River Gave flowed softly by, and only the candles could be heard as their flames crackled in the slight drizzle.
Within the silent cavity of the rock face stood the altar, and to the right and above, the statue of Our Lady, positioned where she actually appeared to Bernadette. The crutches and sticks of those who had been cured, hung from the ceiling, blackened from the candles, that burned in the entrance. I expected the grotto to be larger and more elaborate in decoration and arrangement, but, despite disappointment, I was satisfied.
The rest of the morning and early afternoon was ours to explore the town. The narrow streets thronged with tourists and pilgrims, who clustered around shop windows. As a result, the roads became congested, and the sick and blind were often in danger from cars passing up and down the streets. We found it better in future to avoid the inevitable congestion, whenever possible, and especially when out with Nick or the blind lads. Instead, the Cachot, the homes of Bernadette, the Hospice, where she spent most of her school life, and the Castle overlooking Lourdes, provided some worthwhile excursions, only a short distance from our hotel, and away from the crowded souvenir shops.
The day closed with two processions, one at 4.30 p.m., the other at 8.30 p.m. Both followed the same route - from the grotto down the Esplanade and back to the Rosary Square, about a mile in all. Many took part and their numbers were impressive, particularly when each held a candle, throughout the evening procession. At the end of the latter, we usually made a quick visit to the grotto, before returning to our hotel.
I pondered over the events of that first day. So much had happened that I needed time to think about it. My first impressions were different from what I had expected. In fact, I found it hard to find any significance in what went on, and yet my interest was held - but by what? Perhaps by the curiosity of it all, seeing whether Lourdes would be, after all, as I expected it, or whether it would be a completely new experience. If the latter, then I would have to change my attitude. It was no use just being an observer. I would have to participate to the utmost in the wishes of Our Lady, if I wanted to benefit from the pilgrimage, and return home, wiser for its message. I realized that I would probably not appreciate all that Lourdes had to reveal at first sight. Nevertheless, even a little could be enough to bring me back at a later date, to gain a deeper understanding.
The remaining five days were basically the same as the first. An exception was the Monday, when we went on an excursion to Garvarnie. This was an afternoon trip, and it provided a refreshing break, amongst the foothills of the snow capped Pyrenees. Other events of these days included the taking of a bath in the Lourdes water, a must for every pilgrim, the ceremonies in the Underground Basilica, and the singing which is so often associated with Lourdes. Gradually, throughout this time, I was forming a picture of what Lourdes was all about, and now towards the end of my stay, it was coming into focus. I was relieved at finally being able to grasp part of the truth, but it only came when I acted as a pilgrim, not as a tourist.
However, time was running out, and I was amazed at how quickly the end had come. We had only one more day, and after that we would leave and begin the long journey home. I felt compelled to make the most of that last day knowing that it was my last chance to clarify the picture I had formed I wanted to return home with at least that accomplished.
Tuesday was the last day and it brought with it the hardest penance of all, the Stations of the Cross, which were situated beside a path that wound up one of the steep hills behind the Rosary Square. I found no other experience at Lourdes as profound or as rewarding as this. The effort needed to carry Nick in his wheelchair, over the rough path and up the hill, was immense. It took three of us to do it, and at the end, we all felt rather tired. And yet, if I had not done this I feel I would have missed the whole significance of Lourdes. It was this brief penance, that reminded me of the intense agony experienced by Christ during his Passion. It was this experience that was to clarify all the others, and to give me an insight into that feeling, that so many have, and yet cannot describe. We left Lourdes early the next day, and arrived in London at Victoria Station on Thursday Morning, about 6.45 a.m.
I returned to the pace of modern life in a bustling city, and for the first time appreciated the peace and quietness of Lourdes. I noticed the indifference and coldness of those going to work, and remembered the warmth and devotion I had seen among the pilgrims. In fact, it was only when I was 600 miles from Lourdes, that I began to realize what it was all about. Since the Human Race fell in Adam, and was in debt to God as a result, Christ came and relieved man of the debt, by His sacrifice on the Cross. But it was still necessary for man to pay something, and the message of Lourdes, as given by Our Lady to Bernadette, offers man a means - through Penance and Prayer. Lourdes can only succeed, if it convinces the pilgrim of its message. Only then will the pilgrim return home trying to carry out what has been learnt. Perhaps that oft-spoken-about, indescribable feeling is the first experience of the future life that is intended for us.
P. Kemp