The blog is
back, although I am out the door again tomorrow on one more mission trip, this
time to Bruno Saskatchewan and this place,
where I will be teaching this
course. Meanwhile it
has been a packed time in Madonna House, so much so that I think I may need to
do this wrap up of our past couple of weeks in two posts, today and tomorrow.
Today I want
to talk about the great events that we just wrapped up yesterday, namely the
death and burial of Mamie Legris, pioneer member of our apostolate. Mamie died
on March 27, four days shy of her 99th birthday, after a long period
of illness and infirmity.
Mamie Legris, 1916-2015 |
She was a
giant of a woman, a truly great soul. Mamie was one of the first group who came
to MH to stay in the early 1950s. She and three others (one of whom, Marite
Langlois, is the now the last one left) were the first to make promises in
1952—not of poverty, chastity, and obedience as we do now, but of stablility.
She was a local girl, from nearby Dacre, a school teacher looking for her
vocation who found her way to this tiny house on the shores of the Madawaska.
The MH she
joined was, basically, Catherine and Eddie living in a six room house with one
or two outbuildings. There were people coming and going, and a number of them
would indeed become the core members of this virtually embryonic community that
was forming. But there was practically nothing here, nothing except the vision
of apostolic Gospel life presented by this wild Russian woman and her
passionate love of God.
So, Mamie
came, and Mamie stayed. Years later her primary advice to struggling young
members of the community would be, “Stay put! Stay on the block! Let God act!”
In 1954 (just two years after her first promises) Catherine sent her and two
others to open our first MH mission house in Whitehorse, Yukon, driving there
across Canada in a pick-up truck that was increasingly loaded down with
donations as they begged their way across the continent. In the Yukon, they
braved the cold and the primitive living conditions, and all the difficulties
of starting an apostolate from the ground up. Maryhouse still thrives in that
city, 60 years later and counting.
As the years
went by, Mamie would become Catherine’s right-hand woman, working closely with
her in the training of new members. Catherine trusted Mamie, and would send her
to scope out possible new foundations, particularly in far distant countries.
And so the country school teacher from Dacre ON ended up travelling the world
extensively, from Peru and Brazil to Pakistan and Israel, from the West Indies
to the Arctic Ocean and extensively throughout North America. For a time in the
1970s, she was the director general of women, Catherine retiring from the
position temporarily.
All the
while, Mamie was a simple, plain spoken, down to earth and very loving woman,
capable of forming deep friendships anywhere, with anyone, even without
speaking the language (as was the case in our houses in Peru and Brazil, which
she helped found). All the while as well, and this was highlighted quite a bit
in her funeral services, she lived (and was quite open about it) in a profound
spiritual darkness, a true dark night where she had little or no sense of God’s
love, presence, care for her. She walked by faith and not by sight, to a degree
that few of us are asked to do. And in that dark night, she loved and served,
served and loved, prayed and listened and loved some more.
So on March
27, after many years of serious illness and much suffering, Mamie finally died.
She had had so many near brushes with death and then recovered that it seemed
hard to take in that she was actually gone. The decision was made to wait until
after Easter for the funeral, as it would be too much to fit it in with
everything else that was going on (see tomorrow’s post…).
It was a big
funeral. Mamie had all her wits about her to the end, and had kept up close
relationships with her whole extended family. Being one of eleven children,
this meant lots of nieces and nephews, unto the third generation. And many of
them came to celebrate their beloved Aunt Mame, as they called her. Many of our
local friends and neighbours also came, as she was a well known and highly
respected figure in the area.
Fr. Pat
McNulty had the wake service, and Fr. David May the funeral. Bishop Mulhall,
our local ordinary, came for the latter. We buried her in the parish cemetery
as she had requested, rather than our own MH cemetery. The day concluded
yesterday with a memory night—an informal time when people could share their
stories about this great woman who was such a pivotal figure in our apostolate.
I am so glad to catch her on the tail-end of her journey to the Lord!
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