Sainte Anne-de-Beaupre

My dear Friends

In 1988 I was sitting by the river in Cambridge, Ontario. A man, bare-chested and wearing what looked like a St Christopher medal, stepped out of a small boat (another man stayed in the boat) and looked right at me, saying: 'Are you religious?' Taken aback, I stuttered: 'I suppose so.' 'Then you must go to the Shrine of Sainte Anne-de Beaupre.' he continued.



Several days later, having travelled by train, stayed the night in Quebec and taken a bus up the ravishing St Lawrence river, I came to the Shrine.



Not one for large Basilicas, and telling the good Lord as much, I found some small chapels at the back. A light was burning in one of them, and there was a little prayer card, asking for the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary. I knelt down, said the prayer, and suddenly felt she was with me. I knew she wanted to go somewhere, Where? I asked.



Stumbling out of the Basilica, I ran up the road and came to a convent. 'Would you like to join the service, my dear?' a nice lady at the desk said. ''It's not a Mass.' So I climbed up and came to what seemed like a trapdoorand poked my head into the chapel - it was full of 40 nuns, all dressed in white, praying for vocations!



All this and more is described in The Moving Swan. It was only the beginning of my journey into my new life. And the beginning of my special relationship with the people of Quebec. Last Friday, almost 20 years to the day later, I returned from London on the bus. Behind me two young women were talking animatedly in a language which sounded joyful, lyrical and musical all at the same time. It sounded familiar, French, no a little different, with English interspersed, yes French, of course-Quebecois!

I turned round and we had a three way conversation. They were delighted when I said how much their language pleased me, and I was sad to hear of its frailty, because it is apparently mainly spoken now only in the Province of Quebec.

I realise now, from my experience in the Shrine of Sainte Anne-de Beaupre, and in the Cathedral in Montreal, when I was on my way into the Church, that God was planting something very special in my heart, which will bear much fruit when I finally emigrate to Canada and live in the country of the Beaupre-the Beautiful Pasture.

Shalom from
Sister Gila