I FEEL GRASS AGAINST my left cheek and the sun on my right. Birds are chirping, and I hear the sound of a gentle breeze blowing through trees.
I open my eyes. Green grass. What looks like stumps in rows.
I sit up and look around.
I’m in the Lourdes Grotto at Our Lady of the Mount.
The Blessed Mother is looking down on me, a gentle, loving smile on her face, as she appeared before Saint Bernadette over one hundred fifty years ago. Her statue glistens in the Sun as it usually does, but as I look at it, I’m not sure if it is reflecting the Sun’s light or if the light’s radiating from it.
Behind me I hear the rustling of leaves. I stand up, keeping my eyes on the statue of Mary.
More rustling. I’m no longer alone.
Slowly I turn. I see. I smile.
At the edge of the wood is a young woman,
