The Pilgrimages of Lourdes.

The hustle and bustle of people, there is something in the air, an atmoshere of hope or perhaps a tinge of despair. Many people from many nations, believers and hopefuls alike at the last chance saloon.

The overwhelming impression of Lourdes is of humanity, its frailty, its fear, its weakness, its strength. A woman falls to the ground before the statue of St. Bernadette where the many leave their candles...perhaps they hope for a cure or forgiveness, perhaps they are there for others. A procession of thousands, believers and non-believers, night after night they ride on the hope of a prayer.

An imposing church in solid stone upon a grotto built; power and majestic pride we take from Saint Bernadette, the humble illiterate Gascon girl of unfamiliar tongue.

Here the crowds stand who wait their turn, the waters take.

Hear the echo of voices past, voices present and cries anew.

Abstract faith in concrete set, a miracle from a tap.

Written by Ray Noble