Yesterday one of you readers gave me a good lead on where to find images (probably holy cards or other) of Our Lady of the Clergy in that version I posted. Since their main store is a few minutes walk from where I a staying, I tried that as the first errand of the day. No joy.
Today to Montmartre.
It was my intention to visit the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, built from a sense of penitence and devotion from a nation.
They have had exposition here, continuously, since 1 August 1885. However, not they cover the Blessed Sacrament of Mass. Once, it would not have been so.
The Eucharistic Lord covered during Mass.
I spent a lot of time here, through Mass, exposition, the Benedictines singing their midday hour. I said my own prayers, too.
Ut ómnibus benefactóribus nostris sempitérna bona retríbuas, te rogámus, audi nos.
Ut ánimas nostras, fratrum, propinquórum et benefactórum nostrórum ab ætérna damnatióne erípias, te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Orémus pro benefactóribus nostris.
R. Retribuere dignáre, Dómine, ómnibus, nobis bona faciéntibus propter nomen tuum, vitam ætérnam. Amen.
You are wonderful and it is my pleasure and duty to remember you in my prayers.
I hope you can read this writing and puzzle it out. I found this moving and wondered, what sort of calamity would it take for a nation to do the like again?
Lunch. Mussels. Crispy fries. Sauvignon blanc.
One of the stupidest things I’ve seen anywhere … and I don’t mean the street sign.
Paris has distinctive water fountains, a bit more ornate than Rome’s.
Meanwhile while walking about, I found a plaque to the original, non-fictional D’Artagnan.
And in this place some of my country’s history took place.
And… just because a priest wrote and suggested that I go to Laduree.