A Perfect Child
Marie and I had helped each other her Billy and my David were born brain-damaged. They were both the fourth of five children, and a unique source of both joy and grief. Marie and I had been through many trials together.
It would be a difficult trip for her, alone with an unpredictable 7 year-old; in addition she'd never been out of the country and didn't speak a word of French. But even if there was only a slim chance that the waters of Lourdes would miraculously help Billy and transform him into a "normal" child, she must have felt she owed it to him to try.
We didn't discuss it much before she left. When I asked if I could help with the other children, she said everything was taken care of. Then Marie and Billy were gone.
Almost before I had time to miss her,Marie returned.She came back with a spring in her step and a new vitality in running her teeming household. She was more patient. There was a peace about her. Billy, on the other hand, seemed exactly the same. I was puzzled.
As the weeks went by, I kept expecting Marie to tell me what had happened at Lourdes. But I didn't dare ask. The trip had obviously been a private experience. She didn't have to tell me of her inner struggle. I knew. I loved my David, but I wanted him to be like other kids. How often I had thought, "wouldn't it be wonderful if David were a normal child", "a completely different child". Other parents might wish their sons were better students or more athletic, their daughters less moody or more ambitious. Those weren't monumental changes like what I wanted for my David. What I wanted for my son would take a miracle.
Then one day while I was visiting Marie, she went up to her room and came back carrying a small plastic bottle, "Here Kathy," she said, "I brought you some Lourdes water. "
I held the container tightly in my palm and searched Maries eyes. Maybe she was ready to talk.
"Do you think it worked for Billy?" I asked.
Marie looked away. Suddenly I felt terrible; of course it hadn't worked for Billy.
How could I be so cruel?
"You don't understand," Marie said slowly, "I didn't dip him in the waters. I couldn't, when it came time to do it, I just couldn't."
Mental pictures of Marie dropping coins and one-dollar bills into a mayonnaise jar, week after week, to save for the trip; the 10 hour plane ride, plus hours on the train; the stress on her family; her expectations - all passed through my mind. How could she have refused such an opportunity if she truly believed that a miracle might take place?
The word acme out in a whisper, "Why?" I asked her.
"Because I love him the way he is." All at once I understood. I recognized the source of peace Marie had discovered. "Even if he'll never be the way I dreamed he'd be," Marie said, "I still love my son."
A healing HAD taken place at Lourdes.
by, Kathleen Lukens
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