My dear friends,

       I’m sure that everyone in Southington (and the entire state of Connecticut, for that matter) has heard about my incident at Lourdes. For the few who haven’t, let me explain. When I was heading to the Grotto, I sat on a wall by the river. I fainted. I was face down on the pavement. I regained consciousness as a group of people began to lift me. Doctors, nurses, and various people gathered to help. EMTs came and then a medical crew followed in an ambulance. They summoned a doctor from the hospital, and she came to check my health.

       To give the back story, France had been experiencing a heat wave. It was the sixth day of 90+ degree temperatures, and most sites had no air conditioning. With that heat, I lost my appetite. I hadn’t eaten much for a few days. I also came to Lourdes stressed over the rental car It died. It was a combination of bad gas, overheating, and the battery being drained. The vehicle was towed, and I was waiting to arrange a new rental car before I headed to the shrine. It all took its toll. As I pushed ahead to get to the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception, I overheated myself. Without proper meals, I had no energy. It was all the perfect storm. After walking through the Basilica and around the grounds, I was spent. Taking the time to stop put me over the edge. My body shut down. It was a classic case of heat exhaustion.

       After trying to answer questions in English, French, Italian, and Spanish, I explained that it was the heat. They ran tests. My blood pressure was OK and so was my heart rate. Every test came back fine. I kept trying to explain that I was overheated. Lying on the pavement and in the air-conditioned ambulance did the trick. They eventually realized I was just overheated. I promised that once I went through the line to the Grotto, I would get a cold drink, head back to my hotel, eat, and go right to bed. That reassured them. They let me go, watching me as I walked the path. After that, I committed to forcing myself to eat, even if not hungry, and to hydrating, even if not thirsty. It worked. The rest of the trip (so far!) has been uneventful.

      I went to Lourdes because it was a place my Grandmother Robinson found people of great faith. I went, but I found something different. I found people of great compassion. No one cared that I was a priest – they didn’t even know. They didn’t care if I were Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, or Atheist. They just saw that I was a person in need. They ran to help me. Despite different languages and cultures, they did what they could to help. Some gave me water. Other fed me sugar cubes. Someone poured holy water over my head. Those who could do nothing else simply prayed. In a place where the sick are front and center, not pushed to the sidelines, they care for people. Whether it was someone to push a wheelchair, lift a person to tough the Grotto, or people greeting strangers with kindness, they all cared. The compassion of people there toughed my heart. I laughed thinking, “Who comes to Lourdes and gets sick?!” I do! But that incident helped me see how compassion can make all the difference in the world. We don’t need to travel to the ends of the earth to see people who could use some help; it just takes opening our eyes at home. If we look at the world with compassion for those in need, we will see them and be of help. That was my lesson at Lourdes.

      I look forward to seeing you all next weekend! God bless you!