Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: JOURNEY (01/13/22)
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TITLE: Guadete! | Previous Challenge Entry
By Carrie Brannon
01/20/22 -
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The Pentecost Pilgrimage from Paris to Chartres, France, takes months to prepare for and ultimately covers 70+ miles in 3 days and 2 nights through that country’s beautiful and sometimes rugged countryside. The veteran pilgrim (and there are many at this annual event) prepares vigorously for it, and for good reason. This journey’s terrain includes hilly trails, blacktop roads, mud and rain, cold nights and colder mornings, night camps with latrines and military style tents, bread and water for sustenance. This walk is taken for many reasons none of which is bodily comfort. But, come rain or shine, thousands gather early on Saturday of Pentecost weekend every spring, with packs on backs and hiking boots firmly laced to feet. Though apprehensive, these joyfully souls set out on a journey of love.
The first day of the pilgrimage dawns clear but cool. The excitement is palpable as the crowd grows from a few at predawn to thousands by start time. The pilgrim spirit is fresh on day one. Gathering in the shadow of the Cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris, the throng somehow breaks into organized groups of pilgrims, each representing parishes in the countries of France, Spain, England, Italy, Poland, the USA, to name a few. Each group proudly carries their banner depicting a chosen patron saint. The statue of Our Lady of Notre Dame de Chartres is safely affixed to her litter and the two young men (Catholic scouts chosen for this great honor) have hoisted it upon their shoulders. It will lead the column bravely forward. Pilgrims’ heartfelt singing and the clamoring of cathedral bells fills the air, as, with The Madonna at their head, they joyously move out of Paris.
The pilgrim column, after having left Paris behind and subsequently wound its way some 30 miles over rugged terrain with few breaks but much public prayer and singing, wearily threads itself into what will be home for the night. Day one ends at sundown in a rocky camp. They now know pain; intimately. Feet are blistered and muscles ache. The camp medics tirelessly tend to any damaged pilgrims. The soup lines are long but the food hot and nourishing. Finally, sleep, albeit on the hard ground, will allow angels to no doubt minister to aching bodies. Pilgrims will, by some miracle, be ready to walk again by morning.
Day two is not dissimilar to the first but for the freshness. Pilgrims are exhausted and every single ache of yesterday is amplified. Prayer and Song and camaraderie sustain them through the miles, but at break time bodies collapse in the fields, no matter the conditions, to greedily absorb a moment of rest. This pilgrimage is a supreme gift to their most adorable God. Blood and tears go into the giving.
Day two ends with new best friends made over the past 2 days queuing up for food, medic help, or latrines and sharing hesitant thoughts of anticipation.
“Tomorrow we arrive!”
“Where will our chapter be in the column?”
“I hope I can make the entire walk.”
As Day three dawns grey and cold, hot food is at a premium and dry socks a commodity. The walk begins with renewed energy. Prayers are whispered for fortitude. The distance to cover is shorter today by about 10 miles and by early afternoon the great Cathedral is within sight. Joyful shouts echo between groups: “The spires! Look at the spires!” Hope is renewed at the sight! Fresh pilgrims join the walkers; those who are too old to do all three days…or too young will start and finish the pilgrimage this day. They too, like the vineyard workers, shall receive a “denarius” (Matthew 20:1-16); a grace.
At last, the column’s head arrives at the foot of the hill that leads up to the Cathedral. The aching limbs and sunburned skin, blistered toes, and wrapped joints, are minor inconveniences now. Tears flow unabashedly as pilgrims stride to the top of the hill and fill the grand cathedral. The cherished saint banners that have been carried mile after mile are processed up the aisle as hymns, learned and sung en route, are sung again but buoyed by organ pipes. Pilgrims that don’t fit inside sit out in the courtyard. They will be bathed in the bells’ triumphant noise and angels will walk among them. There is no feeling comparable to this moment’s. God is with them, and the gentle hand of His Mother has led them to journey’s end! Gaudete!
Non-fiction
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