TWO WONDERFUL EVENTS
ONE Saturday afternoon, in fact the very next day after the market
trip, Oisette's father could have been seen walking through the village
street; he was carrying under his arm that tenth melon, or one very
like it, which his daughter had selected for the Curé.
In his wake came our little Quebec cousin, her red ribbons bobbing
along. Carleau, the dog, was at her heels, his short tail, as he
walked, moved like the rudder on a boat.
This village street, with its white plaster houses and rows of poplar
trees, was very picturesque. There was a yellow sunlight tipped over
everything. Just as this little procession crossed the dusty road to
enter the rectory gate, a big motor came purring along. In the tonneau
were two ladies and a dear little girl; the latter had flying yellow
curls.
[Illustration: "MR. SAGE ... WAS WAVING A GREENBACK IN MONSIEUR
TREMBLENT'S FACE"]
"Pappa," she called, "see the big melon!" Now pappa was at the wheel,
driving his own car. He was watching the road carefully; he had fears
lest the little French girl might suddenly dart in front of the car;
he had also observed Carleau, but the melon was the one thing in the
foreground that he had missed; and, strange to say, a melon was the
very thing these people had set out to find.
So, in the twinkling of an eye, the big car was brought to a full stop
and Mr. Sage, its owner, was waving a greenback in Monsieur Tremblent's
face.
Mr. Sage was naturally a silent man, his motto was "Money talks."
Therefore he was somewhat amazed that the owner of the melon did not
hand the fruit to him at once; and still more surprised was he to see
Oisette Mary give one of her funny little bows and hear her say:
"Pardon Monsieur, c'est pour Monsieur le Curé," and then she added in
English "but there are many more chez moi."
The ladies laughed in chorus and repeated, "Many more at your house,
then jump right in and show us the way."
"More as good as that one, eh?" asked Mr. Sage, as he opened the car
door.
Monsieur Tremblent was dumb with surprise, he had been inclined to
accept the offer and turn back to get another melon for the Curé, but
Oisette won the day by jumping into the car. "I always have good luck,"
he told his priest afterward, "when I take the little one."
Those people not only bought three melons, but promised to come again.
When Oisette Mary was eight years of age two very wonderful events
occurred, which events stood out in her memory for all time.
One was when she took her first communion in the month of May, which
all good Catholics know as the month of Mary; and the second was at the
end of that same year, on Christmas Eve, when she was allowed to attend
the midnight mass with her parents for the first time.
[Illustration: "BERNADETTE ... LOOKED UP"]
Little girls who take their first communion are such a pretty sight,
for they are all dressed in white; white stockings, white slippers,
dress and veil and around their heads each one has a wreath of white
flowers.
The church service is always early in the day. Oisette's communion was
given at a picturesque little church in the East End of Montreal. This
church is known as Notre Dame de Lourdes. (Our Lady of Lourdes.) It is
a copy of the larger church at Lourdes, France, and over the high altar
is a representation of a little girl kneeling before an image of the
Blessed Virgin Mary. Almost a century ago there was a little girl in
Lourdes, France, named Bernadette, who being sent one morning very
early to a grotto, by her parents, was told to bring home a pitcher of
spring water from the clear spring that bubbled there, and the legend
was that when Bernadette knelt to catch the water she looked up and
saw, high on a rock in the grotto, the figure of the Blessed Virgin
Mary, and the Virgin smiled at her and told her that the water had a
healing power. Ever since that time many pilgrims have visited Lourdes
in France and been healed by its waters.
Certainly the little church in Montreal has a decided charm. Directly
a visitor enters he observes over the high altar the figure of little
Bernadette kneeling in her blue dress and white cap and above her
is the figure of the Virgin. Lights above the Virgin's head are so
arranged that a most beautiful glow falls upon her face and figure.
Children all love this little church, and it is a pretty sight to see
them marching through its portals two and two. The small boys look
well in black suits, white collars and white ribbons tied on the left
arm. But they get little attention, admiration all being centered on
the dainty little maidens about to make their first communion.
When the service is over, these little communicants wear their white
garb all day long, and go about visiting all their relatives and
friends until nightfall. At each household they visit they expect a
gift, sometimes it is a rosary or a prayer book, or a locket, and
sometimes it is money put in the shoe for luck.
Oisette's day ended with a drive out to Bord a Plouffe, near the end of
the Island of Montreal, where the Sacred Heart Convent is to be found.
Here she visited her two older sisters who were at school. She heard
the children sing "Stella Maris," she watched a procession about the
grounds, little girls making a "Novena," and she had a glass of milk
and some cake. Best of all, one of the nuns gave her a lovely little
silk banner with the figure of Joan of Arc woven on it. This she took
home and hung on her bedroom wall. It became one of her very dearest
possessions.
The midnight mass as celebrated at the Notre Dame Cathedral in Montreal
is a sight no one can forget. About eleven P. M. on the night before
Christmas, the wonderful chime of bells sends out its clamor on the
frosty air. "Chim-Chime, Chim-Chime"--they sound from out the high
twin towers, and when the Great Bourdon sounds the note in its deep
throat the notes carry many miles. It is not sounded every day, but for
weddings, funerals and on great church festivals, and its tones are
heard above the noise of trolley cars, sleigh bells and other street
traffic. On Christmas Eve these chimes are heard by the tired Christmas
shoppers, and the still more weary shop girls, and the streams of
people on their way home from the theaters. Little Oisette, in a warm
velvet coat, a red toque on her head and a red knitted scarf wound
around her waist, long red stockings pulled on over her boots, and
rubbers put over these stockings, was lifted into the family sleigh and
tucked well under the buffalo robes--she could still see the sky, full
of wonderful stars, and she could hear, even through her toque, which
was well over her ears, the booming of the Great Bourdon.
[Illustration: "THEY DROVE INTO THE CITY"]
She liked the way the snow squeaked under the runners of the sleigh,
she liked the way the big farm horses kicked the snow, she liked the
way the evergreen boughs, loaded with snow, held out their branches
toward her.
There is nothing more comfortable than one of these Canadian sleighs
full of robes; they are built low on runners close to the ground, and
they have a high back which keeps off the wind. The whole effect is
somewhat like a wooden bathtub on runners; the seats are wide enough to
hold a whole family.
How proud our little Quebec cousin felt to be riding with her father,
her mother, her two sisters and two brothers! Her cheeks grew red and
redder with the thrill of it. There were hot bricks in the bottom of
the sleigh to keep her mother's feet warm, her two sisters held hot
potatoes in their muffs. The French Canadian knows how to conserve
heat. Long before the day of Thermos bottles and fireless cookers he
heated bricks and stones, and sealed up the windows of his home against
all wintry blasts. It is a very stuffy atmosphere they breathe, but
there is so much latent heat stored in their bodies that they can
take a long drive, if well muffled, without the chill of the weather
penetrating their bones.
Oisette Mary's eyes grew round and rounder with surprise as they drove
into the city and she saw the blaze of electric signs for the first
time. The portals of the great church looked very gloomy in comparison
until they entered the church, and then she saw for the first time the
high altar, with its splendor of colored lights. It is a sight to take
the breath away. Tall candles, short candles, clusters of red, green,
blue, yellow lights all twinkling like stars; and the organ playing
delightful music.
Her father picked Oisette up in his arms, and they went down a long
side aisle to visit the manger of the Infant Christ. There it was, very
lifelike indeed; piles of straw, heads of cattle, the Infant Christ in
wax was lying in some straw, and there were kneeling figures of Joseph
and Mary by its side.
After a while Oisette and her father were seated in a pew very close
to the chancel and she could see the priests, nineteen in all, who
waited on the archbishop; then the little acolytes, six in number, who
waited on the priests, were a pretty sight. The organ played "Adeste
Fidelis." Then the mass began. The incense poured up in volumes toward
the groined roof. At last Oisette fell asleep on "bote of de eye," as
the French Canadian would express it, and she never awakened until they
were traveling homeward again.
[Illustration: "SOME OF THE BOYS ARRIVING ON SNOWSHOES BROUGHT FRIENDS
WITH THEM"]
"Do you know where you are, little one?" asked the father, as he
cracked his whip. "I am on the front seat with mon père," she replied
with a sleepy smile, and curled up again like a little dormouse.
Now one would imagine that when her home was reached, Oisette Mary
would, before going to bed, hang up her stocking and prepare for a
visit from Santa Claus; or even--it being about two o'clock in the
morning--that she might find he had already filled her stocking or
decked a Christmas tree for her delight.
Not a bit of it! The French Canadian child does not give nor does she
receive gifts on Christmas Day. For these people the day is simply a
religious festival; a holy day rather than a holiday.
So Oisette Mary, at two o'clock in the morning of Christmas Day, was
given a bowl of hot pea soup, with plenty of onion in it--and put to
bed.