Angelus News | July 29, 2022 | Vol. 7 No. 15

RSTOCK
was running out for future mother-daughter
trips.
My mom had been reading about St.
André Bessette, the Quebecois porter
of Notre Dame College in Montreal.
A religious brother of the Congregation
of the Holy Cross, St. Bessette
was assigned to the role of doorkeeper
due to his poor health and lack of education.
Yet his was not a hidden life.
Many visitors who prayed with him
received physical healings, and word
spread quickly. People came in droves
to meet with him.
Brother Bessette attributed
the healings to the intercession
of St. Joseph, not to
himself. In the interest of increasing
devotion to the foster
father of Jesus, he saved up
money to build a small shrine
dedicated to him.
When the oratory opened
in 1904, he was assigned to
be its full-time caretaker.
There he received thousands
of pilgrims, many of whom
received physical healings. A
larger basilica was completed
after Brother Bessette died.
It is the largest shrine to St.
Joseph in the world, and it
attracts more than 2 million
pilgrims a year. Both the
smaller shrine and the basilica
are laden with crutches
that pilgrims have left behind
after praying at the site.
A general rule with religious
pilgrimages is that anything
that can go wrong does go
wrong. I had a sense that even
though we were driving north,
things were headed south only
an hour into the drive at the
Vince Lombardi rest stop on the New
Jersey Turnpike.
I accompanied my mother into
the restroom using her walker, only
to find the handicapped bathroom
occupied by an able-bodied woman.
Once we got into the stall, I received
my first introduction to the world of
ADA compliance. It turns out when
it comes to disabilities, the one-sizefits-all
approach doesn’t actually fit all
needs.
Our Airbnb advertised accessibility
as well, but the beds were too close to
the ground for my mom to get in and
out of, and the walls reeked of smoke.
The weekend we chose happened to
coincide with a Grand Prix race, so
the city streets were blocked by sportscars
and filled with tourists, making
already treacherous navigation more
difficult.
This is to say nothing of the most
disappointing part of the trip: When
we got to the tomb of St. André, we
found it closed to visitors for renovation.
When I saw the blockade, I
began to cry.
St. André Bessette, a member of the Holy Cross Brothers and founder
of St. Joseph’s Oratory of Mount Royal in Montreal, is pictured in an
undated photo from the archives of St. Joseph’s Oratory. | CNS
My hands were sore from pushing
my mother along city streets and up
the steep incline to the basilica. But
most of all, my heart ached for her.
We had come all of this way — the
physical and emotional distance — to
meet the porter who couldn’t open
this one door for us.
I didn’t have the heart to look at her
face, so I wheeled her a few steps over
to the eight altars dedicated to St.
Joseph. There the saint appears in relief,
lit up by an intense red hue emanating
from the votive candles. There
are eight altars, each dedicated to a
group of people of cause for which
the saint’s intercession is sought,
including Joseph, Guardian of the
Pure in Heart; Joseph, Protector of
the Church; Joseph, Mainstay of
Families; Joseph, Terror of Demons;
and Joseph, Model of Laborers.
Then we stopped by the three others
and were overcome: Joseph, Hope
of the Sick; Joseph, Our Solace in
Suffering; and Joseph, Patron Saint of
the Dying. It seemed that St. André
was doing what he had always done
— pointing pilgrims away
from himself and toward St.
Joseph.
We stood there at the last
altar praying together:
Open our eyes that we may
glimpse the road to Life that
lies beyond death. / May
nothing, not denial, anger,
nor depression, separate
us from the Love of God./
Strengthen our faith in God
who always finds ways of
preserving us in his friendship.
/ Be beside us to hold
our hands when we take our
first steps toward the Eternal
Kingdom.
Three years later, my father,
brother, and I were praying
at my mother’s bedside as she
received the anointing of the
sick. She died a few hours later.
I spent a long time asking
God why my mother wasn’t
among the pilgrims who left
the waters of Lourdes able to
walk, or who left her wheelchair
behind at the oratory.
But I can now imagine that as she
passed from this life to the next, she
walked through the gates of heaven
on those legs she wanted back, greeted
by St. André at the door. And the
ever glorious patron of a happy death
would be close behind, welcoming
her home to rest at the end of her
earthly pilgrimage.
Elise Italiano Ureneck is a contributor
to Angelus and columnist for
Catholic News Service writing from
Rhode Island.
July 29, 2022 • ANGELUS • 15