She Tells Us Her Name

Dear Diary,

This morning after Holy Mass, our Reading Club met again under the apple tree behind St. Mary’s. It was a beautiful place to read about Lourdes, because the leaves made a soft roof over us, and the light came through in little patches on the grass. Mini settled beside my chair as usual, watching everything as if she were the official club guard.

Father LeRoy asked me to begin with the little introduction I had written for today’s chapter.

So I stood up with my paper and read:

“Today’s chapter tells about March 25th, the Feast of the Annunciation. Since the last day of the Quinzaine, Bernadette had gone back to the Grotto several times, but not in the same way as before. She had not felt that strong inward call that had drawn her there during the Apparitions.

“But on this morning, she heard the call again. She went at once to Massabielle, full of hope, because she felt she was going to see the beautiful Lady once more.

“By this time, everyone in Lourdes watched Bernadette closely. When people saw her walking toward the Grotto, they said, ‘Bernadette is going to the Grotto,’ and soon a crowd hurried after her.

“The snow had melted in the valley, though it still rested on the mountain peaks. The sky was clear, and the morning was bright. It was the Feast of the Annunciation, when the Church remembers the Angel Gabriel coming to the Blessed Virgin Mary.

“At the Grotto, Bernadette saw the Apparition again. She asked several times, ‘O Lady, would you have the kindness to tell me who you are and what is your name?’ At first the Lady only smiled and grew more radiant. Then at last she joined her hands, raised her eyes toward Heaven, and said, ‘I am the Immaculate Conception.’

“This was the answer everyone had been waiting for. The beautiful Lady of the Grotto was the Blessed Virgin Mary.”

When I finished, no one spoke right away. It seemed as if the words were still resting under the apple tree with us.

Then Sister Mary Claire said, “What a beautiful thing, that Our Lady gave her name on the Feast of the Annunciation. On that day, Mary first said yes to God. And at Lourdes, she came again to lead souls back to Him.”

Father LeRoy nodded. “And we must remember,” he said, “that Bernadette was only a poor, simple child. She did not invent those words. ‘I am the Immaculate Conception’ was far beyond what she would have understood on her own. That is one reason the words were so powerful.”

Robert said, “It makes me think of how Heaven speaks simply, but deeply. The Lady did not give a long speech. She only said who she was, and that was enough.”

Father smiled. “Yes, Robert. Sometimes the greatest truths come in the fewest words.”

Sister added, “And Bernadette kept asking humbly. She did not demand. She said, ‘Would you have the kindness?’ That is a good lesson for prayer too.”

I liked that very much. Bernadette was brave, but she was never proud. She was little before Heaven, and maybe that is why Heaven could use her.

After the discussion, Father LeRoy suddenly said, “One moment,” and hurried into the rectory. We all looked at one another, wondering what he was doing. A few minutes later he came back carrying a tray with twelve banana splits he had made beforehand.

There were bananas, ice cream, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and cherries on top. Mini sat up very straight when she saw them, but Sister Mary Claire told her that banana splits were not part of a Corgi’s vocation.

Father said, “A feast day deserves a feast.”

Everyone laughed, and we ate slowly under the apple tree. I thought it was one of the happiest Reading Club days we have had.

When we were finished, Father asked me to read the Reading Club prayer before he dismissed us. So I unfolded the paper and read:
 

Father made the Sign of the Cross and gave the dismissal. Everyone began gathering books and spoons and empty dishes, but I stayed still for a moment under the apple tree.

Today we had read the words: “I am the Immaculate Conception.”

And somehow, even in our little churchyard in Iowa, it felt as if Lourdes had come very near.

Love, 

Kathy