I’m told that priests don’t have to queue for the Baths in Lourdes but something in me resists such privilege and I go down as a civilian, taking my place with all the other men and wait. It’s easier for men than women because there are not as many of us.
It’s a very hot day but my time standing under the burning sun lasts only half an hour and then I’m into the shaded, seated area. There’s a blessedness in waiting in common with others. Waiting and silent. Present.