This spring break I had the privilege of going on the Lourdes Pilgrimage. Lourdes is a small town in France in which Mary appeared to St. Bernadette through a series of apparitions. According to Catholic Online, St. Bernadette, a poor, uneducated girl of tremendous faith followed the Lady’s instructions and dug into the dirt and a spring of water appeared. St. Bernadette then drank the dirty water and ate the grass, and eventually some of the townspeople followed suit to find it had healing properties. Lourdes is now one of the most visited Catholic pilgrimage sites in the world. Those mentally or physically ill come seeking to be healed by the baths of holy water.

Saturday, the day before Easter, some of the women in our group rose early in order to beat the lines to the baths. We arrived to find the line was so long (despite it being an hour before the baths officially opened); it had been moved across the river, which was directly parallel to the baths, and the only access was to cross the bridge guarded by some volunteers.

So we got into the line, which was in reality about eight women across. Hordes of women of different ages, ethnicities and languages were shoved into a compact bundle. There was a little bit of pushing going on, particularly from some elderly Italian women who were about as tall as my waist- but formidable opponents, nonetheless. After an hour or so, everyone in our group decided to leave except for my roommate and me. The Sisters, who were about 15 feet ahead of us with some other girls from our group, let us take their place in line since they had done the baths before. Almost before the Sisters were out of sight, the previously mentioned Italian women approached us in line and (although they were talking in rapid Italian, it wasn’t hard to guess) told us we were going to burn for cutting the line.

We continued to wait, and as we neared the bridge at an incremental pace, the crowding really started. Think Frosh Mixer. However, we weathered the storm and managed to keep our scant group of five together… until the three others of our group were taken across the bridge to the baths without us. My roommate and I hung on, knowing we were the next to cross the bridge. All the while, the volunteers had created a separate line for families and people with disabilities, so they didn’t have to wait through all the craziness. However, this created an incessant stream of a single child moving up through the line escorted by nine women who were all let through. This same family line broke down the gate, as we were about to cross the bridge, and mothers pushing strollers and tucking infants under their arms like footballs pounded across the bridge. We threw up our arms and said “c’est la vie” and sprinted after them.

Well we crossed the bridge and guess what we found. Lo and behold, another line! Very similar to an amusement park line, we moved steadily through metal gates with benches. However, at noon the volunteers announced they were going to take a break until 2 p.m., and we were invited to stay and wait. This marked our fourth hour of waiting, which meant we could NOT leave at this point. So we sat and made friends with the women from Paris and Ireland around us. Some French women sang hymns, and the weather was very beautiful, leaving me incredulously feeling pretty good.

The two hours passed quickly, and within an hour of the line moving again, we were inside the building with the baths. Tents with about six women, each with a volunteer, were connected to a stone bath filled with the water. Your personal volunteer helped you to undress modestly and wrapped you in a wet sheet. I remember hearing water being poured into the tubs and thinking women were throwing up. I think I was just really nervous. I did, however, hear the gasps/shrieks of women and they entered the freezing water. Within a couple minutes it was my turn, and three volunteers held my arms firmly as I walked down the steps into the bath of freezing cold water. They dipped me once, said a prayer with me, and then I was done. The feeling was indescribable. My volunteer helped me to dress again and by the end I was completely dry. All hunger, fatigue and anxiety forgotten, I left the baths feeling as though I had just witnessed a miracle. Maybe I had.