valorous idylls chapter 19

Who You've Got To Know On The Night Shift

The mighty hospital has fallen silent.
Here we go.
Through the night.
Mind won't settle with a formal prayer now.
Instead I'm saying the names of saints.
Each Saint is a gift of God.
So I say the name of a saint, let what I know about him come to me, and praise God for the gift the saint is.
The names of the saints become a litany of praise to the creator and a celebration of existence.
Saint Joseph the worker.
Saint Claire who loved holy poverty a lot more than I do.
Saint Francis of Assisi, crazy about animals, people and all created things.
Saint Anthony with his candle burning bright tonight in Rowena Baines house.
I can see the candle.
Saint Joseph of Copertino who helps you get exams.
Saint Agnes.
Father Jerzy Popieluszko.
Bernadette.
Father Ragheed Aziz Ghani.
Father Francois Mourad.
Archbishop Boulos.
Martyrs of China.
Martyrs of Iraq.
Martyrs of Syria.
Martyrs of Russia.
Martyrs of Africa.
Martyrs of Europe.
Martyrs of the Americas.
Joan of Ark, wow, saint who by God's grace ended a hundred years war and incarnated France.
Saint Jean Vianney, the hilariously titled Cure d'Ars.
Catherine Laboure.
Therese of Lisieux who sent me buckets of flowers but no miracles. If you get a flower from her, it's supposed to mean she will obtain a miracle from God for you. It doesn't always mean that. Sometimes she's just sending you flowers.
Lucia, Francisco and Jacinta the seers of Fatima.
Maximilian Kolbe.
Pastor Richard Wurmbrand.
Sabine Wurmbrand.
Preacher David Wilkerson who wrote The Cross And The Switchblade about his time witnessing about the Lord to the gangs of New York.
Gwen Wilkerson.
Juan Diego.
Bernadino.
Kateri.
Hugo Festa.
Mother Teresa, best nun uniform ever and best nuns.
John Paul, a cracking good pope.
Isadore Bakanja.
Josephine Bakhita.
Thomas Aquineas.
Ignatius Loyola.
Francis Xavier.
Francis Xavier Zeelos.
Solanus Casey.
Mother Angelica.
Sister Valsa John Beebey.
Frere Andre Bassette.
Saint Cyril.
Saint Methodius.
Miriam Bourdy.
Charbel Makhlouf.
Gemma Galgani whom a supposedly possessed person claimed the demons feared.
Catherine of Genoa.
Catherine of Sienna.
I love the name Catherine.
Any saint called Catherine I want to know.
The Irish bunch.
Matthew Talbot.
Oliver Plunkett.
Saint Patrick.
Saint Brigid.
Saint Colmcille.
Saint Aidan.
Augustine who wrote of God: "I came to love you late, oh beauty so ancient and so new... Our souls are restless till they rest in you."
Benedict.
Dominic.
Saints from Biblical times.
Mary Magdalene.
Saint Peter.
Saint Paul.
Thomas Didymus.
Philip.
Saint John the Baptist.
John the Evangelist.
Saint Stephen whose face glowed and who forgave his killers.
Old Testament dudes.
Abraham.
Moses.
Elijah.
David.
Isaac.
Jacob.
The great cloud of witnesses.
Edith Stein.
Alphonsus Ratisbonne.
John of the Cross.
John Damascene.
John Chrysostom.
Saint Jerome.
Thomas Moore, the man for all seasons, executed by Henry the Eighth, courage, great sense of humour, featured in a great play incredibly written by the self described atheist Robert Bolt, and the film version by the same atheist was even better.
Angels.
Archangel Raphael bring us the Lord's healing.
Archangel Michael bring us the Lord's protection.
Archangel Gabriel bring us the Lord's light.
The blessed mother under her titles of honour.
Star of the Sea.
Ark of the Covenant.
Tower of Ivory.
Vessel of Singular Devotion.
Our Lady of the snows.
Our Lady of Guadalupe.
Our Lady of Pontmain.
Our Lady of Beauraing.
Our Lady of Banneux.
Our Lady of Lourdes.
Our Lady of Fatima.
A nurse enters and thinks to waken me but I am awake.
"Have you slept?" she asks.
"No," I say, but I'm very peaceful."
Something seems to strike her.
She casts a curious glance around the ward.
"Hmm, it is very peaceful here," she says and goes.
I dreamed a few years ago that I was in hospital and people were coming to see me but they were all people who had left the mortal life.
The dream now came true.
The ward filled with saints and people I had once known.
My brother John and the businessman Pat Dunlea were there.
I addressed God as to what was happening.
"Lord," I said, "I'd love to actually see them. Feeling they're here is great. But it would make a really great story if I could see them. I wouldn't be a bit shy about telling people."
In my heart I heard: "When you see them James, you're coming home."