I first went to Mont Saint Michel in 1980, aged only 14, and returning thirty years later felt strange. I returned as a part of an assignment for work. I took a group of 21 mixed aged English school kids and their two teachers for a five day trip round France. On Sunday the 30th of May, the feast day of Joan of Arc and also Mother’s Day in France, we arrived as the monks were ringing the bells for morning prayer. Drawn by a need to sit and find some inner peace, I chose a bench halfway down the abbey church and was surprised to find a couple of the older girls joined me. Incense began to fill the air, and music played. I shivered, that goosebumps moment when you feel God is very, very close, and you feel that if you look up at the right moment, you will see Him. Tears began to fill my eyes and I felt alarmed. I couldn’t have an emotional meltdown here. I was in charge. The kids would think I was an idiot. I bit down hard on my need to cry and let myself detach from my emotions a little. To capture the moment, I held the camera above my head and snapped a few photos, so I could maybe later recall and give way to my feelings.
Plainchant in French made the hairs on my body stand on end and the readings, caught in snatches because of my poor French were like Sybil’s leaves blown on the wind….
“Before the hills were made, I knew you. I knew you in your mother’s womb.”
I can’t recall what book from the Bible they were from.
I went on, determined to be strong. I toured the rest of the abbey and bought the obligatory fridge magnet. A little later, I discovered I had lost my purse, containing all my Euros. I nearly panicked. I ran back up to the abbey shop and asked there. Nothing. I left my name and address and was told to report it to the tourist office, which I did once I found them open again after lunch. I stayed in French, which I am proud of and I stayed calm. It was only money after all.
As I sat I remembered all the times I have had small miracles, where unexpected money has come my way just when I needed it. I can’t help hoping that my 50 or 60 euros went to someone who really needed it, and as I sat there thinking that, I thought, may they have joy of it.
The rest of the trip went well, but on the channel ferry yesterday, we were looking at photos. I’d snapped away and never actually looked at any of my own. The photo below was greeted with astonishment and awe:
I am myself astonished and greatly moved. The window behind has no pattern in it; there isn’t a figure in it, as far as I saw. You will have to take my word that this photo is unaltered; anyone who knows me also knows stuff like photo shop is beyond me. I saw nothing when I took the photo.
I know who I think the figure is.
Who do you think it is?
Everyone agreed that it’s a sign, but a sign of what?
Truth is that today I feel that the world has become far more complex than it was before. I’m the sort of person things happen to, but they are usually not good things. I’ve never had anything like this happen before. I’ve been given something extraordinary and I simply do not know what I must do with it.
This has happened for a reason, just as I lost my purse for a reason.
I pray that the reason becomes evident soon.