Chronicle of Friday 31 July

Dear parents, and all of you who, during these sixteen days, have been part of this great family of pilgrims that has crossed the lands of Normandy from Paris to Lisieux:

Like everything, the pilgrimage has a beginning and an end, and we are coming home more than satisfied with the days of deep faith and deep joy we have lived. The finale couldn’t have been better: today has been a memorable day.

After sleeping nine hours straight like dormice, we met up again at breakfast. Calling it “breakfast” is an understatement: it was an armed raid. Sixty hungry young people against a tiny bit of bread with jam and honey. The jam didn’t stand a chance, and the baguettes lasted less than a sweet at a school gate. They say people in Normandy are still talking about us. How we miss Marc, Beto and Miquel’s breakfasts! Come back, please: we urgently need supplies.

At nine o’clock, at the Carmel of St Thérèse, we celebrated Holy Mass with great devotion, presided over by Fr Joan, who, spot on as ever, reminded us that what we have lived these days is not an illusion but a reality: when you are in Jesus, the Christian way can be lived. We have come back profoundly changed, and he encouraged us to take this spirit of service and joy home with us.

Then, the basilica of Lisieux: an impressive building where, between the crypt and the basilica, at least fifteen Sant Rafael churches would fit. We tried to watch a video that was all in French; after five minutes, a general strategic retreat. With our free time we prayed in the corners of the basilica, and at half past twelve many of us went back to St Thérèse’s tomb and left at her feet little notes and so many intentions of the heart.

Lunch was an all-you-can-eat buffet... until we arrived. “All you can eat” lasted exactly four minutes: by the time the last of us came in, it looked like a documentary about a plague of locusts, and they had to restock the food several times. Inés Moscatel ate seven pistachio crêpes, the kind that “didn’t taste of pistachio but were really good” (by the seventh it was pure scientific research). The coffee machine ended up blocked and without a single drop of milk, probably from exhaustion, and the poor nuns were amazed at our stomachs: we suspect that tonight they’ll say a special prayer for their supplier.

A pilgrim needs to be well stocked up; sixteen days of walking can’t be done on a lettuce leaf. Come back, Isa, Laura, Marc, Beto and Miquel, come back.

In the afternoon, a star moment at the archbishop’s house: first-class relics —that is, from the bones themselves— of Saints Louis and Zélie Martin, St Thérèse’s parents, were waiting for us. An immense gift that we take away with us like a treasure.

Father Louis welcomed us with great solemnity: the group in the garden, and the older ones in his office, a stately drawing room with chairs that had come from the house of St Thérèse’s uncle. “St Thérèse sat on these chairs,” he told us, moved. We all venerated the relics, with singing, and Father Louis was more than moved. We even talked about Korea: the relics will travel there for next year’s WYD.

At Les Buissonnets we visited St Thérèse’s house in groups of fifteen: everything we have read in Story of a Soul comes to life within those walls. A fifteen-minute visit, but a deeply catechetical one. Then, the cathedral where she made her First Communion, with the confessional of her first confession and the place where she prayed every day.

And so we said goodbye to our saint, whom we already love dearly, having understood her “little way”: to be a saint you need to have Jesus in your heart, without complications.

Already on the coach to the airport, Alejandro Recolons suddenly remembered where he was and that he was going to the Cerdanya that very night; he got terribly nervous: he wanted to get to Barcelona whatever it took. In the middle of the airport there was a piano, and our friend Raúl Asla started playing while sixty young people sang Bob Dylan songs. People clapped, joined in the choruses, took photos of us: we looked like a band on tour. A good few heartwarming and hilarious minutes.

The flight was calm, and we arrived happy and joyful to give a solemn hug to you parents who have prepared this pilgrimage with so much love. A word of warning to families: your children are arriving sanctified, but also starving. Start warming up dinner.

We take this opportunity to thank all of you who have made it possible, and especially these sixty young people who, with intense joy, have made the pilgrimage and met Christ. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. We’re already thinking about the next adventure, because this doesn’t stop: St Thérèse and her parents, Louis and Zélie, encourage us to live this holiness that is so close to the people of our time.

May God bless you, thank you for everything and until next time. Korea is waiting for us.