Deep joy flows from them like a breaking wave. It surges through withered hands as they greet you. It twinkles in eyes gleaming behind thick spectacles. It spills over in easy laughter.
They are only a remnant now. Perhaps 30 or so remain from an original strength of hundreds. For over a century they ran The St-Loup hospital located on the Via Francigena, a 1,000 mile footpath connecting Canterbury England to Rome. But they are too old and too few now to run a pilgrim hospital. So instead they care for the infirm at the nearby hospice, and they welcome modern pilgrims to their retreat house.
Our retreat group is invited to join their mid-day meal. We file silently into the simple dining room. We are shown to long tables. The center seats at each table are reserved for a nun, one facing another across the table. These two sisters pass the food, always counterclockwise, in simple tin serving plates. The nuns take their portion last. This ritual is orderly, meticulous, and a source of obvious delight.
When everyone is served one nun sings the first line of grace in French. The chorus then joins her in rich, four-part harmony. The hair on my neck tingles as they sing. The woman seated beside me weeps quietly from the beauty of it. I pass her my napkin. I won’t need it: my shirt usually becomes my napkin.
The meal is taken in silence. It consists of simple vegetables from their garden, polenta, and overcooked pork chops. The nun at our table is well over 70 and weighs perhaps 90 pounds. She whistles through her nose when she breathes and she eats more than I do. Each time we make eye contact she stifles a giggle. I suspect it is from the food slopped on my shirt. Dessert is homemade yoghurt with honey, the best I have ever eaten. The dessert spoon is silver.
The cleanup is equally choreographed. Cutlery is collected in red plastic sandbox pails wrapped in wicker. The aged nuns then shuffle out to bring light into the world and to wheel the infirm around the flower garden.
The wifi password at the retreat center is “Proverbes4:23” – Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.
[If you know someone else who might enjoy a lighthearted story to begin their week, kindly forward them the link to WordsfortheWeary. The more the merrier.]
A particularly beautiful entry, Charlie. I’ll take what this reading brought to me and give it out through the day.
Thanks, brother.