MEET CHRISTINE

Every morning, Madame Christine is punctual for her appointment: a quarter to six, she’s outside the cathedral door, and when the doors finally open, she’s the first to enter. She removes her slippers (made from bicycle or car tires) as a sign of respect for a sacred place and, barefoot, sits in her favorite spot until it’s time to return home.

She’s a slim, tall woman, with a solemn bearing, as befits a woman her age. Her slow, uncertain pace betrays her precarious health, but incredibly, she walks miles to come and pray, in all weathers. She has a sweet face, marked by as many wrinkles as her many years.

Mass begins at seven, so she has time to talk to God about her children, her grandchildren, the priests of the diocese, the people of the parish, and especially about poor people, whom she visits as soon as her health allows.

Much of her love and prayers are directed towards priests: she has a son and a nephew who are priests and, as she always says, believing in certain values and living them are two things that can be very different. So he decided to be a “praying Moses” to intercede for all those who make courageous choices.

At the end of Mass, she briefly updates me on the poor people, and her face lights up. Then she gets sad as soon as she starts to tell the tale of their misfortunes: “Sister, you have to come and see with your own eyes,” and when I reassure her that one day we’ll go for a walk together, she prays serenely and begins to think that perhaps we’ll find some miraculous solution for them too.