Miraculous Medal (eBook)

[Chapter One]

St. Catherine Labouré, Model of Humility

“I knew nothing; I was nothing. For this reason God picked me out.”1

—St. Catherine Labouré

St. Catherine Labouré was born to pious parents, Pierre and Madeleine Louise Labouré, at the ringing of the Angelus bell at 6:00 PM on May 2, 1806, in the serene and charming village of Fain-lès-Moutiers in the Burgundy region of France. No sooner had Catherine been born and drawn up close to her mother’s breast that Madeleine Louise requested that her daughter’s name be entered immediately on the civil register. Because of her mother’s earnest plea, due perhaps to a holy intuition, within a quarter of an hour after her birth Catherine was registered: “Catherine, daughter of Pierre Labouré and Madeleine Gontard his wife, was born this same day (May 2, 1806) at six o’clock in the evening.”2 It turns out that Catherine was the only one of their seventeen children that would be registered so quickly. In addition, her name was registered with the church the very next day on the feast of the Finding of the Cross, when Catherine was baptized into the Catholic Church.

Perhaps only our Lord and his Blessed Mother knew of the holy significance in Catherine coming into this world at the sounding of Mary’s bells for the Angelus, the prayer commemorating the angel Gabriel’s announcement to the Blessed Mother that she conceived of the Holy Spirit. It would be many years before one might have reason to ponder the connection—the saint who would herald in the Marian age was graced with the ringing of the Angelus bells from every church and chapel around at the first moment of her life on earth. The memorial of the Finding of the Cross on Catherine’s baptismal day would also prove to be significant to her life as she became devoted to the holy cross and one day would even experience a mystical vision of it.

The Labouré family rarely used Catherine’s baptismal name. Instead, Catherine was affectionately referred to as Zoe, possibly after an obscure local saint on whose feast she was born. Zoe was so much a part of Catherine’s identity that one time she signed her name “Catherine Labouré Zoe” on a baptismal registry when she served as godmother to a neighbor’s child.

Catherine grew up in her close-knit family on a farm in the quaint little village of Fain, comprised of barely a hundred and fifty inhabitants. Catherine’s father, Pierre, who had entered the seminary in his teens but gave up the notion of becoming a priest to instead take up farming, ruled the household and farm with a somewhat iron hand. Catherine’s mother, Madeleine Louise, a former teacher from a cultured background, made up for Pierre’s gruffness and lack of warmth. She was gentle and saintly. Both were educated, and both were committed to raising saintly children.

The Labouré family lived comfortably in their spacious house on a picturesque farm. They enjoyed the simple comfort of having enough but didn’t give in to wastefulness or luxuries. A servant helped the busy Madeleine with some of the household chores and care of the many children. Of the seventeen children that Madeleine bore, only eleven survived. Six babies died at birth, and one, Alexandre, died at age one. Her son Auguste was permanently disabled in an unfortunate accident when the family’s horse-drawn buggy overturned during what should have been a happy family outing; from that day on he needed constant care, adding to Madeleine’s many responsibilities.

Pierre labored from early morning until sundown, not afraid to get his hands dirty, while overseeing a dozen farmhands and managing the bountiful property. He tilled the soil, produced grains, and he also raised pigeons for market, which is a native French industry. By ancient law Pierre was one of the few farmers in his area given permission to maintain the trade. Town folks were familiar with the sight of hundreds of pigeons flying in and out of the stone dovecote on the Labouré farm. The sound of their wings flapping almost in unison probably startled many an unsuspecting bystander. Catherine, when she was old enough to help, delighted in caring for the pigeons, which would swoop down impatiently when she entered the dwelling with their feed, sometimes mussing her hair.

Catherine followed her mother around the house as she went about her chores. Her little sister Tonine toddled behind her, both girls learning from their mother and becoming familiar with the housekeeping with which they would later help. The seven older brothers helped in the household until they were old enough to go out into the fields with their father.

Catherine’s older sister, Marie Louise, was taken in by Madeleine Louise’s sister and husband who lived in Langres. She was raised by the childless couple as if she were their own and educated by the Sisters of Charity in Langres. Though it was heroic and noble of them, Pierre and Madeleine must have experienced great pain in giving up their daughter even if it was to deserving relatives.

A larger life existed outside of the quaint village of rolling fields and demanding farm life. Two of the older sons left home: The oldest son, Hubert, went off to the army, and Jacques left for Paris to work in a business firm. Soon after, Antoine left for Paris, too, pursuing work as a pharmacist’s apprentice. The nest was getting a bit smaller, and Madeleine was keeping her daughters Catherine and Tonine close. She didn’t send them to school when they were old enough, apparently wanting to cling to them for as long as she could. Of course, Auguste was always nearby as well.

Little Catherine and her mother remained close to each other, bonded in a spiritual sense as well, until October 9, 1815, when Catherine’s mother shut her eyes on her earthly life. God called her home when she was only forty-two years old. Suddenly, the Labouré family had to grapple with the fact that the heart of their home had died.

Catherine felt utterly lost. Mama was gone—forever. Everyone felt the immense absence and knew that life would never be the same. Charles went off to Paris to be trained in the restaurant business, and Joseph and Pierre went off to boarding school. Marie Louise came back home to help. She was twenty years old now. She and the servant (who eventually merited the affectionate title of “Mama”) would care for Catherine, who was now nine, Tonine, who was seven, and Auguste, who was six.

Choosing Mary

Watching a mother’s burial is no easy feat for anyone, never mind a little girl, but Catherine managed to get through it by means of quiet tears and many prayers. A few days later, Catherine wandered into her parents’ bedroom and gazed up at the statue of the Blessed Mother set high up on a shelf. She looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was nearby, and since she was alone, she confidently pushed a chair closer to the shelf and got up on it. Reaching up, she took down the statue and hugged it close to her heart. She spoke earnestly and directly to the Mother of God: “Now, dear Blessed Mother, now you will be my Mother!”

Just like that, Catherine expressed her desires and with a childlike confidence thoroughly expected that Mary would indeed listen, come to her aid, and be her Mother. We are certain about this intended secret display of Catherine’s affection toward Mother Mary because unbeknownst to her, providentially, a household servant was surreptitiously watching. Catherine was so caught up in the spiritual experience that she hadn’t heard the servant come up quietly from behind.

A few centuries before, St. Teresa of Avila also chose Mary for her Mother while praying before a statue of Mary when her mother died. Nine-year-old Catherine wouldn’t have known about St. Teresa’s pronouncement, but we know she was certainly in good company in her decision.

At this time, Pierre’s sister, Marguerite, and her husband, Antoine Jeanrot, offered to take Catherine and Tonine into their family for a time to help ease the load on Marie Louise and the servant, who was responsible for caring for the kids and household and for feeding the dozen farmhands. The girls would have playmates—four girls, their older cousins who could dote over them. So, it was decided that they would go to the Jeanrot home in the beautiful town of Saint-Rémy.

Colorful gardens walled in stone rolled over the property, while picturesque views of a heavenly countryside painted a striking backdrop. Christian values prevailed in the pleasant atmosphere of the new home setting. The girls missed their family back in Fain but enjoyed being smothered in love and compassion by their kind relatives.

Catherine was different from children her age and even children older than her. Her mother had seen this in her: Catherine reached for heavenly things. She was growing in holiness and clandestinely desiring that she might someday see the Blessed Mother. She was absolutely delighted that Saint-Rémy possessed a resident priest, which meant many more opportunities to attend church services. Catherine’s desire for holy things was edifying.

In fact, her eighteen-year-old cousin, Claudine, was taken aback to see Catherine’s attention at church, her hands folded devotedly while kneeling up nice and straight. Claudine not only admired her younger cousin’s devotion, but she began to grow in holiness herself by imitating Catherine’s devoutness. The whole Jeanrot family grew in their faith because of a little girl’s piety.

Weeks grew into...