This morning in Rome,
at the Vatican,
Le Frere André (Brother Andre),
of St Joseph’s Oratory fame,
was made a saint.
I am not a practising Catholic,
and I never have been,
but,
like most Quebecois,
over the age of forty and born here,
I have been baptised and had my first communion.
We live in a post Catholic society,
and yet,
St-Joseph’s Oratory,
which can hold almost two thousand people,
was full all day and all night,
leading up to the canonisation ceremony at 4h30 am,
our time.
I remember when I was a young child,
going to the Oratory with my aunt.
It is an impressive Basilica that sits atop the Mountain, 
our Mountain, Mont-Royal.
My grandparents and I also visited Ste-Anne De Beaupré near Quebec city,
and Le Cap De La Madeleine near Trois-Rivieres(Three Rivers).
Le Cap, is a shrine to the Virgin Mary,
and Ste Anne’s is a shrine to her mother.
Why am I telling you all this?
Because, I believe my grandmother,
would have been delighted to see Le Frere André canonised.
These events made me think of her,
and also of our collective history.
When Le Frere André died in 1937,
over a million people filled past his coffin in Montreal.
My grandparents amongst them,
they had not met, yet,
they met later that year,
and married in 1939.
Brother Andre is an important symbol of our past.
A small, frail and uneducated man,
who had a dream to build a chapel to his St-Joseph.
For the longest time,
the only heroes French Canadians had to look up to,
were Le Frere André and hockey players.
I am glad he is a Saint for all the hardworking,
small salaried, self sacrificing people,
who came before me.
My ancestors, my people.
Although dominated and kept down by their church,
they also found comfort and solace,
in the little doorkeeper of Notre Dame College,
who performed miracles,
they saw him as one of them,
and he was.
This canonisation is a little bit a tribute to them.
My Grandparents would have liked that.
I’m glad for them and their memory.
Later girls
BB