Testimony of faith. The miracle of Lourdes
My brother Paul was three years older than me, but I always considered him my twin. He was profoundly mentally handicapped, did not speak and did not go to school. I took great care of him. He particularly enjoyed religious music – theAve Maria, for example – and spent hours in the garden wheeling around a crucifix and a statue of the Virgin Mary in his wheelbarrow. He held this statue in his hands so much that it was deformed.
The sudden death of our father in a car accident created a major rupture in his life. Paul was 22 years old. From that moment on, he, who had always been cheerful until then, was on edge. He bit his hand, his suffering was visible. He waited for our father behind the front door for three weeks… It was heartbreaking. He had to be hospitalized. When I went to pick him up for the weekends, we always stopped at small chapels. Without fail, Paul would kiss the altar with fervor. He could stay there for long moments, in silence.
After my father died, my mother decided to take us to Lourdes. Paul suffered from severe scoliosis, his rib cage was severely deformed and he tired easily. So we asked for a wheelchair. The first morning, my mother and I took him to the esplanade. Suddenly, getting up from his chair, he knelt down and kissed the ground. “Stunned,” I had tears in my eyes. Of course, he couldn’t explain to us what he was feeling. But I treasure a photo of those moments: his face radiant, luminous, as if he were completely in his element. That week, Paul visited the grotto every day, for long hours, calm again. I can testify to his intense devotion to the Virgin. His anger and rage had disappeared, he was serene.
Paul died suddenly in 1997. I think of him every day. And above all his vibrant faith, his trust in the Lord, his abandonment to his love remain present in my memory and help me a lot. Like everyone, I have doubts. So I think of Paul, and of his faith as something obvious. And I say to myself: “Come on, we have to rise to the occasion.”