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The Sign of The Cross - A Native Son
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hands behind their backs looking strict and solemn, as though they
had suddenly joined the army, and were taking their new duties very
seriously. These men in Lourdes wore special belts and insignia to
make their rank and importance clear rather than the ordinary red
sash worn by the men in Enniscorthy. There was something odd and
old-fashioned about it, it looked like something from the l930s,
this half-military get-up. They came here for a week or two from
small towns in Ireland or France or Germany, and now they had power
to put out their hands and stop the flow of pilgrims towards the
basilica. We allowed ourselves to be regimented as we moved towards
the place of the apparition holding lighted candles.
The following day I went to take the waters and I joined in a long
queue of men, overseen by another of the middle-aged men who exuded
wathcfulness and authority. Priests did not have to join the queue,
I discovered, but I decided to remain a lay person for the moment,
realising that I would probably be found out by the man at the door
and sent home. No one was carrying a towel, and I wondered how we
would dry ourselves. When I was a child and heard my elders talking
about taking the baths in Lourdes I always imagined them in bathing
costumes. Now no one seemed to have bathing costumes. It seemed
impossible that people would take off all their clothes, and make
the baths of Lourdes into one big locker room. To Irish Catholics,
at least, modesty was one of the cardinal virtues. I waited in the
hot sun, wondering what was going to happen. The man in front of me
was very old and was finding it difficult to wait for so long.
Once inside, we were told to take off all our clothes down to our
underpants. In a moment of panic I wondered if I was wearing underpants,
and when I realised
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