Experiencing Lourdes: An Intimate View of the Miraculous Shrine and Its Pilgrims

Between February 11 and July 16, 1858, fourteen-year-old Bernadette Soubirous witnessed eighteen miraculous appearances of the Virgin Mary, who called herself the Immaculate Conception. These apparitions were authorized by the Roman Catholic Church, and a shrine was built to Our Lady of Lourdes.

More than a century later, hundreds of thousands of hopeful pilgrims continue to flock to this remote village in southern France. Some come on stretchers, others in wheelchairs. Only a few actually receive physical healing. Why, then, do so many sacrafice so much to make the trip?

Stephen Grosso knows. On these pages he describes the people and places he encountered at Lourdes one summer as a volunteer stretcher-bearer. He discovered that the pilgrims who touched him most profoundly were those who were never released from their infirmities. He learned what many of the pilgrims already knew: The greatest miracles of Lourdes are those that touch the human spirit. It is these fortifications of the soul that make it possible to endure suffering patiently, to face death bravely, and to remind ourselves that earth is not our final home.

Stephen Grosso was born in Brooklyn, NY, and spent his youth in New York City. He worked at the City University of New York until he moved to the Catskill Mountains with his wife and young son, where he devoted himself to his craft of writing. He has published 11 works of short stories, biographies, essays and poetry as well as many poems and articles in magazines.. His works are a spiritual reflection on the mysteries of life, suffering and hope. He takes a hard look at the brutalizing effect of civilization on people and on nature. And finally, he faces his own death with fear, courage and hope.

Stephen was a writer in love with the beauty of the English language and its ability to move and inspire us. His poetry and prose put into words the questions and longings we all find lurking in ourselves when we stop long enough to be aware of them. The reader will be sometimes uneasy, at times hopeful, and others sad, but never despairing. Stephen died in April 2006, still writing poetry two days before his death.