Sent from Lourdes

An interview with a  Fr. Kolbe Volunteer of the Immaculata after her experience serving the  pilgrims at the baths in Lourdes. As told to Jillian Cooke, Fr. Kolbe Missionary

Why did you go? 
I've always loved the blessed mother and to get to travel to one of her apparition sights is awesome. I have a particular devotion to Our Lady of Fatima, but Mary is Mary! To have a chance to work in the baths was something I never expected. My husband was home on "sick-leave" - but he was well again and able to watch the kids. My sister gave me her miles to pay for the ticket. God had it all planned out.

Did the trip meet your expectations? 

I didn't know what to expect. What I didn't expect was how I felt some of the time. It was hard to explain, and the reason I wasn't quick to want to go back. When you first walk in, after a long train ride, and you go through the gates you and the bells chimed - it made me think of heaven. It was so clean that I also thought of Catholic Disneyland, because right in front there's the big basilica with her big gold crown on top and it is just so beautiful. Just walking in was so beautiful.

But, then, we didn't know where to go (we were the only pilgrims who didn't have a group) and they couldn't find my information (it was returned a year later to my house - they had never received it!). Thankfully, they let me stay. We stayed in this little room near a river. In an old, dark building and I had to have my own room. I didn't expect - I can't explain it - it wasn't depression or homesickness, but it was a kind of darkness. Not scary, just something, there was something.

I loved walking in front of the grotto. Seeing it for the first time was - amazing. To think she really stood there, touched the rock, and it was so quiet....

Working in the baths was so different than anything in this country. There was no fear of germs. We would
pray in the morning, and kiss the ground. The water is the same water for every person, by the end of the day it starts to get a little cloudy. When you help them undress, they each sit on the same chairs wrapped only in a sheet. It was hard work, but yet, you didn't get any aches or pains. It was amazing, all these different people - it was a gift to be around all the pilgrims. You could feel the grace.

When I went in, it was so cold. It was a beautiful experience.

It was very spiritual, but it was very contemplative and thought provoking.

Does any one person or event stand out? 
I can see certain people, people without breasts, the elderly, others so sick with yellowed skin.... the humbling thing that brings joy is that you are serving and trying to be Our Lord and Our Lady for them.

What did you "bring home with you?" 
It was life changing. It was a gift. It was humbling. I brought home the missionary spirit. I always was drawn to that. When you think of missionary you think of going out and making a difference, really helping somebody. At Lourdes I got a much fuller sense of it. You don't think, what's in it for me. You're tired, but you do what needs to be done.  It is was an opportunity to do so in a more "tangible" way than our everyday. It is what we are called to do everyday, but there it is in your face. I think that makes you happy.

Now, that's how I feel about helping at an inner-city parish. There's nothing "wonderful and dramatic" about it. That's the irony, we think that at Lourdes I was doing so much more than when I helping out a teen retreat. That's just not the case.

Can you give me some examples of how you can be a missionary in your everyday? 
I can be a missionary mom. A missionary bring Christ and Our Lady to others, becomes Christ and Our Lady for others. Every person I meet is an opportunity to be a missionary, even if it is just smiling, talking to the homeless, bringing Jesus to other people. We think we want everything to be grandiose, but I think being a missionary here and now is focusing on what's around you, seeing where the help is needed. For me, sometimes it is a little eighth grader, the grouchy cashier, or a mom who is having a bad day. The difference is that I can't make it about me, it has to be about Christ. We can all do that - even a mom with seven little kids.