by Sr. Margaret Anne Meyer USA 08.01.2025
May 1966
The boat ride back to Dublin from Liverpool was uneventful but the walk in the rain to Bus Áras and the ride to Drogheda seemed exhausting. I was welcomed home in the refectory by a smiling novice, Sister Christine Jones, who did not mind in the least that I was too early for lunch and gave me a huge piece of buttered toast and a hot cup of tea. Her kindness still warms my heart.
The Motherhouse was in the throes of celebrating Holy Week. I was all excited to be going to Uganda on Easter Monday but had no notion of how I was travelling. Then the news came to me that Mother Mary wanted me to do a retreat before going to the missions. This would start after Easter. I was disappointed but took it all in stride and prayed the best I could. Sometime after the retreat I was told that I would be flying to Uganda on the 23 of May. In the meantime, a sister Doctor was needed to be of service to a children’s pilgrimage to Lourdes and I was the lucky one chosen to go. I was delighted.
We departed from Dublin airport at the end of April. There were Dominican Fathers leading the pilgrimage and one other Doctor and two Irish Sisters of Charity to mind the large group of sick children ranging in age from nine months to 16 years with various life-threatening conditions. I was given an emergency medical bag. Little did I know how quickly it would come in use. I was called to the aunt of one of the children who was suffering from a heart attack. I told the flight attendant, and she told me to go into the cockpit and tell the captain. I felt like a real highjacker and was scared but the woman needed medical treatment right away. In those days it was customary to give an injection of morphine which I did. I asked the pilot to return the plane to Dublin, but he told me the airport in Wales was closer and that he would land there. Thank God the woman was well treated as I heard later and eventually returned to Ireland. The child’s mother continued on our journey to Lourdes.
I loved looking after the children in Lourdes and was able to join in the candlelight processions at night and go behind the Blessed Sacrament when the priest blessed the sick. One morning I tried to get some milk for the children from the Accueil. I said in my best French “Bainne le do thoil” and they just stared at me. Then I remembered I was speaking Irish and asked for “lait pour les enfants.” I laughed but I did get milk for the children.
Soon it was time to leave. Father took us to the grotto before the plane left at 2 AM. He told us that we had a glimmer of what the life of the Blessed Mother was like. A very ordinary life of feeding the children and changing nappies. I felt close to Our Blessed Mother.
We arrived home in Dublin and went to 7Am Mass. I was looking forward to hearing Mass in English because French was spoken all the time. To my surprise Mass was celebrated in Irish but I said every “agus” there was and was glad to participate a little I went to Rosemount with the intention of visiting Sr. Ita Moore’s sister in Dublin. They were traveling to the USA in a few days and asked her to take some gifts I had bought for my parents at Lourdes. She said she would.
I took the bus to Drogheda and arrived sometime after 10 PM. I was notified that my mother had phoned from New York. I thought it was late and returned the call the next morning. My Father had suffered a severe heart attack, and could I go home? I was very distraught but by the time I received permission to go home, my beloved father had died. The joy of seeing him six months previously sustained me in my deep sorrow. I told my mother I would be on the plane the next day. What follows next is another story.