More about the
Beatification of Charles de Foucauld
Little sister Cecilia Grace from the
Philippines shared about the beatification and
Our General House in
the Tre Fontane section of Rome is like a village of wooden
buildings surrounded by eucalyptus trees. In the early
1960's, hundreds of little sisters worked hard to build it on
part of this compound that belongs to the Trappists.
A week after my own
arrival for the beatification I plunged into working in the
kitchen. L.sr. Maria Hue-Ja (Korean) was the chef, and
Sisirani (Sri Lankan), Anna Sara (Italian living in Congo), and
myself were her helpers.
And then…they
started coming. Friends and little sisters from different
parts of the world, young and old, tired yet excited, a few
sick but still dynamic. Some were old friends who had not
seen each other in years, others were meeting for the first
time. Never mind if two seconds after we introduced
ourselves we'd forgotten each other's names. Sometimes
while we were quietly working amidst the pots and pans, a
familiar face would appear at the kitchen door to greet us and
we would explode into loud cries of recognition and laughter.
Of course there were
songs to be learned and practiced, program sheets to be
printed, rooms to be cleaned, beds to be carried here and
there, etc. For people like us who are more used to life
in small dwellings, it was very demanding; you can imagine the
movement and the tension. But each one gave the best she
could, and tried to be available for whatever was needed.
Saturday, November 12: The Vigil
The village was
bustling with activity. I happened to be working early
that morning with l.sr. Helen-Dominique, an 83-year-old sister
from Switzerland who was answering the phone. I was
supposed to run and look for whoever was being called to the
phone, and, at the same time welcome visitors who arrived.
Flocks of little sisters were arriving with their
baggage; friends were stopping by to say hello; a group of
young little sisters from Syria, Iraq and Lebanon were waiting
for the TV people to come get them for a live interview;
another group was assembling to go to St. Peter's for the final
rehearsal; some African little sisters were on their way to the
Trappists down the hill to practice their dance for the
services later; and on top of all that the truck arrived with
the 500 chairs we were renting, and they had to be distributed
around the compound. Then, the catering service arrived.
All this before 9 o'clock in the morning! You can
imagine how relieved I was to be replaced at that point.
This kind of scene was more or less repeated for the next
two days.
To be sure to get a
seat, we'd agreed to start going down the hill by 2:30 pm for
the evening vigil service at the Trappists; but lo and behold,
most of the seats were already taken by then, and the crowds
were still coming. The church of the Trappists was
overflowing. Thanks to two big screens that had been put
up outside, even those who came "late" could follow.
There were readings,
chosen from the writings of Br. Charles, read in French,
Italian, and other languages by members of our spiritual
family. The testimony of Giovanni [the miraculous healing
of his wife was the miracle whose authentication paved the way
for Br. Charles' beatification], spontaneous and simple, moved
some to tears. I don't know if I ever invoked Br.
Charles' help as fervently as he did.
Rania, a young Muslim
tour guide from Tamanrasset was understandably nervous
speaking before the big crowd. But more than her words,
which were quite deep, her presence, as well as that of the
Tuareg who came with her, brought alive to us Br. Charles'
witness of friendship and self-giving love among this Muslim
people. And one of the Tuareg men prayed by dancing a
symbolic journey through the desert.
It was only on my way
out that I realized how many people were there!
We all climbed back up
the hill for supper. I found myself with: a priest from
the Philippines; a young man from Pakistan; a Little Brother of
the Heart of Jesus from Bangui; a Little Brother of the
Incarnation from Haiti; a young Italian couple; a group of
Algerian-looking people who I later learned were grandchildren
of the barber at El Golea who used to cut Br. Charles' beard
whenever he came through that town (they now live in France).
Among the guests were
about a dozen others from Algeria, half of whom were dressed in
their traditional Tuareg costume. You can imagine the
impact they made at the Trappist church and around St. Peter's.
The dance prayed at the Trappist
Church
during the Vigil prayer service
