When I saw that St. Bernadette’s relics were coming to Baltimore, I was excited. I knew that the four-day visit to the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen would be happening on a very busy weekend for me, so I wasn’t sure I would be able to make it. But I also don’t live far from the Cathedral, so it seemed like a possibility.
The first day of the relics visit passed, then the second day, and then the third. I had driven past the Cathedral multiple times, but I hadn’t had time to stop.
On the fourth and final day, during the last hour of the visit, I realized I could fit in a very brief trip, but it would have to be on my own, without my family.
I climbed the church steps and went inside where I found a petition box. I had brought many prayers to share, but I knew which one I wanted to leave in the box. I wanted to ask for the healing of a friend, the mother of many children, some of whom are adopted, who is very ill. I wrote my intention on a slip of paper and slipped it into a box that had been filled with thousands of intentions. (And if you would join me in praying for Kim, I would be most grateful.)
Then I went and got in line with the other people who were waiting to visit the relics.
Soon enough I fell into conversation with the lady who was waiting in line just ahead of me. She was a second-order Carmelite from Catonsville, on her way to a meeting in Essex. She had just enough time to stop and visit and pray.
She mentioned her daughter and her grandchildren who weren’t with her, and I said that I hadn’t been able to bring my husband or sons either.
“But they’re with you,” she said. And I realized she was right. I had come for all of us.
She and I didn’t exchange names, but we chatted as we waited. Our whispered conversation spilled over to the woman in front of her—also from Catonsville, but a different parish. As we inched forward, we were pilgrims together on a journey.
By the time we reached the front of the Cathedral, we had become a group of three. The Dame of the Order of Malta who greeted us by the relics said, “Are you all together?”
“We are now,” one of my new friends said—and beckoned for me to step up to see the relics with them.
I don’t honestly know what I expected from the experience, but standing in front of the relics, I was filled with awe. St. Bernadette had such an incredible life. I like to remind my children that each of us has a role to play on earth that no one else can. You can really see that in Bernadette, how God and the Blessed Mother had a specific purpose for her. At Mary’s direction, she dug out the start of the spring at Lourdes that more than 200 million pilgrims have visited—and where many have been healed. She loved and trusted Jesus so completely.
As we stood by the relics, I was struck by the reverence of the members of the Order of Malta who were there. I also loved how friendly they were, even to me, one of the last people in line at the end of what I imagine was a long weekend for them. Everyone was smiling and open, inviting us to pause to pray or take pictures. We each received a holy card that had been pressed to the relic, and—before I left the Cathedral—I went back later for three more cards for my husband and sons.
Then we moved along to a bowl of water from Lourdes. I reached into the font to bless myself, while my new friends dipped a rosary and a brown scapular into the water.
As I walked out of the Cathedral, I thought of how I had come with empty hands and very little time. But I left with a sense of joy, peace and wonder at having been part of such an extraordinary experience. I may never travel to Lourdes, but this week I had the chance to connect just a little more deeply with St. Bernadette.
And that feels like its own kind of miracle.
Copyright © 2022 Catholic Review Media
English
Spanish