Monday morning brought a nice hot shower in a private bathroom (ahh), then HH and I revisited our old haunts in the area of Paris where we studied. We found the convent of the Holy Family, where Auburn study-abroad students are welcomed, and HH, bolder than me, rang for Soeur Marie Josephe, our hostess during study-abroad. We came in and had a chat with her, and popped into the chapel--the whole place brings back pleasant study abroad memories. Next I finally succeeded in buying a French Magnificat so that I can follow the responses and readings in mass, and then, hungry, we picked up breakfast at our tried-and-true neighborhood bakery and ate in the Jardin du Luxembourg.
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After we took care of some business - printing airline tickets in an internet café - we picnicked on the Champ de Mars, in the cold wind, watching tourists. To thaw out, we took a much-needed "pause-café," or coffee break, in café La Terrasse. Then, since I needed a new duffel bag, and have often read about the "marché aux puces" (flea market) in Paris, we headed to the Porte de Clignancourt, where we saw booths holding everything from leather coats to cheap lingerie, and we met with long-winded "sales"men at a booth where I failed in my attempt to haggle for a leather bag. However, I found a plain but cheap canvas one, which has served me well!
Another famed Paris sight that we'd had yet to see was the Père LaChaise cemetary, so we hopped back on the Metro to get over there. It was a somber place, very large and quiet, full of autumn leaves and closely-packed stone monuments. HH and I called it a fitting excursion for our Toussaint vacation, a vacation given to us for the holidays of All Saints' and All Souls'. We saw the graves of some very famous people buried there (Délacroix, Proust, Wilde, Abelard and Heloïse, Chopin, and Jim Morrison (what is he doing there? haha)), as well as those of countless French families, some very ancient, with chapels built above them in Gothic style (so that loved ones could come pray for their deceased), and some very recent, covered in flowers and bearing messages from family. I wondered if, back home, Mom's gravestone has arrived, and I wish I could step out of France to put flowers on hers. I brought and wore an old sweater she gave me, one she probably wore when she was my age, and I like to imagine that I'm taking her with me, as much as I can.
After that, we rushed dinner in order to get over to Sacré Coeur for a night of adoration (which conveniently also means inexpensive lodging), but what an ordeal we had. I felt sick, so poor HH was stuck trying to figure out, with help from the sisters there, a do-able way to get to the airport on time in the morning. Well, at least they said that they'd pray for us in the morning...(A little worrisome! or should I have felt reassured?). And, somehow (by the grace of God--or if you don't believe that, by more than a few absolutely incredible strokes of good luck the next day) we did manage to make it to Rome! Despite the fact that as hard as we tried, and as much help as we had (from a couple of French ladies in the Metro, and a helpful Frenchman at the train station)...we did not get to the gate until 9:33am, and our flight was supposed to have left at 9:15! Whew...I guess the night of adoration was meant to be! And it was a truly powerful experience, one I'm very thankful to have had -- to be in the candlelit interior of Sacré Coeur basilica with the Blessed Sacrament, putting aside thoughts and griefs and worries to be silent and just adore.
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