Go France!

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By Christine

ONE MILLION gathered in Paris today to protest against gay marriage!
I hadn’t been proud of my home country in a long time! Today I truly am!

Not long ago, one of my Goddaughters asked me on Facebook: “tell, me, my dear God Mother, what are your reasons against gay marriage?”
I answered, warning her that it couldn’t be a short answer…
Now I know better! It can be a short answer (at least at first)! And it doesn’t even have to be a “religious” answer (again, at first).
As Rabi Gilles Bernheim says, “it is not because people love each other that they systematically have the right to get married! For example, a man cannot marry an already married woman, even if they love each other. A woman cannot marry two men under the motives that she loves both and both want to be her husband. Or a father cannot marry his daughter even if their love is only paternal and filial! Even in the name of equality, tolerance, the fight against discrimination, and other principles, we cannot give the right to marriage to all those who love each other.”

Marriage is not only the public recognition of two people who love each other, or “the public recognition of a committed relationship between a man and a woman (or two adults) for their fulfillment.” says William May
As the USCCB declared on December 6th, 2012, marriage is, “the universal institution that unites a man and a woman with each other and with the children born from their union.” (Emphasis added).

Gay marriage wouldn’t take into account the fundamental right of children to have a mother AND a father, to know their roots, where they come from; in short, it would deliberately deny children their right to their identity, and, from that, to their psychological equilibrium. It doesn’t mean that a homosexual couple cannot be loving, or that they aren't capable of raising children. But they cannot give what they do not have. And what they do not have is essential to the good development of any child. Love is not enough. Love doesn’t give all of the basic psychological structures any child needs to know his/her genealogy in order to position himself/herself as an individual.

From the beginning of humanity and until the end of time, we are born male or female, in a chain of generations, and no one can ever change this!

Go France!

Shaped by the Past - Part IV

By Christine

My family sure didn’t have as adventurous life as Christian’s!

My father’s grandfather’s name was François, and he was born in 1865 in Gilly sur Loire, from a family of farmers. Francois came to Le Creusot, the nearby booming industrial town, in search of a better life. He was hired at the great forge in 1881, and then transferred to the artillery workshop, producing weapons for the government. He worked there until his death in 1919.

Forge, Le Creusot

My father’s father, Joseph, was born in Le Creusot on November 8^th, 1902. His mother, Elisa, was an orphan. She died from liver cancer on October 18^th, 1914, when Joseph was only twelve. Her terrible sufferings marked him profoundly for ever. He had only one brother, Francis, who was 10 years older than him. Two other children, born in the middle, had died at an early age. So Joseph grew up with his father Francois. His personality wasn’t the happiest one. He thought that a woman’s job was to stay home and that she shouldn’t even read because it was time stolen from the care of the household. He became a metalworker and supervisor at Le Creusot's Schneider’s factory. 

Joseph at the factory

He wasn’t rich, and I remember that my grandparents didn’t have a bathroom in their second floor apartment. You had to go to the outhouse in the garden. Speaking of gardens, he was a very good gardener, and had lots of vegetables, fruit, and flowers. Dahlias were his specialty.

He never had a car, but when he retired, Joseph got a moppet and he would come visit us on it!

He loved fencing and was an incredibly talented handyman. He even built a radio from scratch. I also remember an incredible hair comb he had made from steel, and a beautiful engraved pie serving knife with a horn handle (I still have it). He also loved fishing and was skilled at painting.

I have at least two good memories of my grandfather. For Christmas, he would offer each of the five of us a 5 francs coin that he had polished and made all shiny. He was also excellent at making black currant liquor, from his own bushes of black currant. The treat was that we were always allowed to taste a small glass, even though it was so strong! I loved how it would run warm down your throat!

He had married Lucie on January 20^th, 1925. 

Joseph and Lucie on their wedding day

Lucie had lost her mother too, when she was about 4 years old. Her family was from the north of France, just like General De Gaulle’s mother, who bore the same last name as her. This led me to write to General de Gaulle when I was 9 to tell him that we were from the same family! He answered me and I still have his handwritten note!

Lucie was the baby of eight children. They had moved to  Blanzy, not far from Le Creusot, on a small farm. Her older sisters had very whimsical ways of taking care of her. To calm her when their mother was working in the fields, they would put wine in her bottle! 

Lucie in the center

Very young, she became a housekeeper for a doctor’s family who taught her “good manners.” Then she helped her older sister with her small grocery store. Her sister thought it was time to get her married and arranged her meeting with Joseph. She was a good natured and cheerful person who absolutely loved children. Joseph and Lucie had only two sons, my father, Georges, and Henri. Lucie adored her sons and probably spoiled them a lot, doing everything for them. It was a real heartbreak for her when they got married. When her sisters visited unexpectedly (no phone!), it was always a feast of laughing and fun! She used to quilt heavy blankets to help bring some more money to the household. 

Joseph and Lucie with their two boys

She was the spiritual soul of the family and took her children to church while my grandfather practiced only for great feast days and Bishop’s visits. She would also ride her bicycle everywhere. During the war, she would ride her bike across the line of demarcation to get food to my uncle, Henri, who was at the seminary in free France 40 kilometers away.  She was even searched by the Nazis once. She died at 56. I was not yet 2 when she died, so sadly, I do not remember her.
 

Me in my Grand Mother's arms

Later on my grandfather remarried a woman from Southwestern France, Simone. We all loved her with her singing accent! But Le Creusot was not a cheerful town for her light spirit and she was never happy there.

Even though Joseph had not been a Churchgoer during his youth, he ended his life as a very practicing Catholic and his death in 1971 was a beautiful testimony of faith.

Instructors Interview: How did you meet?

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Christian and Christine (from Christian's side)
As an International Business student, I had been working for the previous four years at the opera in Montpellier, France. It was a unionized place that allowed students to work there, for a meager pay.
In 1974 I still had two more years to go to complete my masters degree. The Fundamental Physic Group in Berkeley was reviving the Quantum entanglement theory, and Uri Geller was psycho/psychic binding forks and spoons. Peace and Love was still the motto in student circles.
That afternoon, after less than a couple of hours of work at the Opera, I was stuck in there with nothing to do, but as union dictates whether you have work to do or not you have to stay for four hours.
To my great surprise and for the only time in my six years there total, the boss came to me and asked me to keep for two hours the art gallery hosted in the Opera, for double pay.

“Sure,” I said, “no visitors and nothing to do? I can handle that.”
He was wrong; I had one visitor. I was diligently looking at the pictures in Time Magazine, and here came my one and only guest.

November 74 issue

She got all my attention: young, very young, and cute. I immediately noticed the American clothing, deep America I should say. Long brown hair, an out of place look, and an unfamiliar accent. I thought she was Canadian at first; I quickly learned that she was from Burgundy, France, just back from the States.
Small talk, invitation to join me at 6:00 pm to go to the student cafeteria across the Opera for dinner (I wasn’t paying for her dinner).
She was very nice, easy to talk to, happy to have somebody to talk to, fun, innocent. After dinner I showed her the old city. 

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I could feel that she wasn’t 100% at ease with a 22 year old wolf preying on a young demoiselle in the dark streets at night. 

Only when I left her at her bus did we exchange our names!

We didn’t exchange addresses, nor phone numbers, there was no next appointment. It was as if we knew we’d just meet again because it was meant to happen.
Just like it was meant to happen that we had met that afternoon….
What we didn’t know, though, is that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, have five daughters, experience a strong conversion and come back to the Church, have ten grandchildren and counting, and dedicate our lives to the Lord! Wow.
We traveled to many countries together, left everything behind to follow our calling, left our job, house, relatives, friends, and finally our country to work exclusively with engaged couples, funny, huh?
We didn’t see that coming but we are sure very happy it happened.

Instructors Interviews: How Did You Meet?

Christine and Christian (from Christine's side)

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It all started on November 27th, 1974.  We didn’t know it at that time, and it took us 37 years to realize it, but it was the anniversary of the Miraculous Medal (there must be something with the Miraculous Medal in our family! See Mattie's story). Mary was watching over us.

I was 18 ½.

My Senior Picture

I was just back to France from ten months in Indiana as an exchange student and my only thought was to go back. Sadly, my parents wanted me to be “reasonable” and to start some studies. I wasn’t in the least interested in studying, so I picked what seemed the least boring to me: art.  It was then decided that I would study art in Montpellier, France, where my aunt and uncle were willing to host me.

I moved in with them, in their basement, at the end of the Summer…
Time flew and it was already the end of November.

Wednesday morning November 27^th.
We had Wednesdays off, so I got up later that morning. For a reason I do not remember, I went upstairs and found myself face to face with my aunt. She started lecturing me about studying art without even visiting the city’s museums and art exhibitions. She knew there was a beautiful tapestry exhibition downtown and thought I should at least go and see it.

I understood she wanted me out, so I got on the bus and headed downtown.

I think I started by visiting a museum. I hate museums; I find them boring most of the time, and exhausting…  so I do not remember anything about it. I was just killing time. Then I decided to visit this tapestry exhibition my aunt had talked about. The tapestries were by Marc Saint Saëns (1903-1979). They were exhibited in the Opera’s gallery, Salle Molière, on the right side of the Opera (when you face it).

Montpellier's Opera

Entrance was free! There was no one but the keeper, a young man who was reading the Time Magazine! 

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All my thoughts being geared towards going back to the States, it struck me that he was reading the Time in English! He seemed nice, didn’t know anything about the tapestries, and was just keeping the gallery for the first –and only – time and from 4:00 to 6:00 p.m. only. He had had no visitors at all. I was his first and only one! We talked a bit; I looked vaguely at the tapestries that I really didn’t care for!  

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I felt totally comfortable and safe with him, he didn’t look like a play boy at all with his huge thick glasses.

I was about to leave when he asked me if I wanted to come back at 6:00 to go to the university cafeteria with him... I said OK and went on to meet some of my school friends.

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It was dark already when I arrived back Salle Moliere. I felt a bit awkward, not being sure that he remembered inviting me, but there I was, and he seemed to remember! Together we went to the worst cafeteria in the whole town, but it really didn’t matter. Afterwards, he took me on a walking tour of Montpellier’s narrow medieval streets. I was a bit scared to be by myself in these dark streets with a total stranger, and excited at the same time that this older guy was actually paying attention to me! He walked the whole way holding his dark blue bike on the side. He was wearing a leather jacket that was kind of short for his long arms.  He had a charm about him, a casual and self-confident look that I found very attractive. Finally, he took me to the bus station for me to go back home and asked me what my name was! I told him my name was Christine and he told me he was Chrick, and that he was from Morocco! I remember being puzzled about this last statement, thinking that he didn’t look like a Moroccan! I was so ignorant, not even knowing that Morocco had been a French colony for a long time! 
As I got home, I was pretty excited inside and I remember telling my uncle I had met a really nice 22-year-old guy who would be a really cool big brother. We hadn’t even talked about seeing each other again, but my heart was happy and light! 

I've always wondered who in heaven was behind our meeting... Maybe Christian's mother who had died the previous year? It was so "improbable" that we ever met! Heaven opened up a short 2 hours window and it worked!
Since the first time I heard it when I was 15, this quote from François Mauriac, from the Académie Française, has always struck me, "We deserve all our meetings. They are granted to our destiny and have a meaning each of us must discover."