A miracle in Paris
Though I have my three most-preferred hotels in Paris for my personal holidays, the choice of residence while on business trips are absolutely decided upon by the proximity to venues of travel exhibitions, tourism conventions and national tourist offices conferences.
No matter how brief my stay, I religiously go on a thanksgiving pilgrimage to the Chapel of the Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal, for safely bringing me once again to one of my favorite cities. As I end up in unfamiliar arrondissements, a visit to the Concierge for assistance is a must, to mark a grand X on my city map to signify my current position — You Are Here spot. Naturally, it was before mobile phones, Google Maps,
Waze and the Internet. Having completed the last-minute alterations on the Philippine Pavilion, and with the marked map in hand, I plotted my way to Rue du Bac.
As the sun sets and the spotlights start to illuminate the city — undoubtedly, this is Paris at its prettiest — I ambled through quaint Parisian side streets and crossed one of the several bridges — aren’t they all grand and beautiful in their own unique ways?
All too soon, I bumped into an English-speaking family of four — in fiery discussion, undeniably and unmistakably lost. The parents opted to turn right, but their two teenage sons insisted to do just the opposite. Instinctively, to obtain some peace, I initially shared my map, but eventually surrendered it.
Sans my printed guide, I got more confused with every block I explored as my expected landmarks failed to appear.
Frantically looking around, I noticed from a distance two tall and erect figures in familiar habitos of the Daughters of Charity Sisters — similar to the one donned by Sor Salvacion Almonte, my kindergarten teacher at the Colegio de la Immaculada Concepcion in Cebu.
I tailed the pair, for I somehow felt they were headed back to the congregation’s Mother House. As I attempted to catch up, the farther they appeared.
Suddenly, I was in front of 140 Rue du Bac. Unbelievable! I simply froze.
Slowly recovering from this unexplainable surreal experience, I asked the nun duty about the duo, as my two mobile beacon lights had disappeared. She revealed she did not notice anyone else pass by but me, as she smiled with a glint in her eye. A modern-day miracle? Full of disbelief and weak not only on the knees, I sought refuge at the chapel, enveloped with a warm homecoming.
With eyes tightly closed, I recalled three separate apparitions that manifested before the then-24-year-old novice Catherine Labouré in 1830. With revelations of a mission to create the crest, the Miraculous Medal has since received global acceptance and reportedly caused conversions and cures.
I felt I could touch the white marble statue of the Virgin of Radiant Graces with 12 stars, surrounded by gilded figures inlaid with medallions, the edifice which contains the heart of Saint Vincent de Paul and the Shrine of Saint Louise de Marillac, the co-founders of the Daughters of Charity.
Finally, my ongoing tableau dwelt on the Reliquary of Saint Catherine, in her final resting place.
As I whispered my prayers and wrapped up my promise, I visually reacquainted myself with the altar, shrouded with mysticism, mystery, dedication, devotion, blessedness, but not before purchasing some more Miraculous Medals to propagate its graces among my family and friends.
Somehow, I found my way back to my hotel, without any doubts or hitches, still recalling the miracle of the day.