Be Happy… Live by God’s Light…

Dear All,

Lou sent me this link!


http://home.att.net/~mcp3_2000/_classics/013/whispers.htm

I praised God and thanked them both for the timeliness of the message.

Synchronicity, coincidence, E.S.P., Clin Dieu?

How we choose to call all the small/big miracles that furnish our daily life is not important. What matters most is that we keep our senses open to them. What matters most is that we record them in faith for posterity. What matters most is for us to remember to praise and to thank God for the many small/big blessings that He fills our daily life with!

Some of us may look at a blazing red rose bush and see the ‘burning bush’. - Others may pass by it and see nothing at all. Let us praise and thank God for opening our senses to all the beauty He envelopes us with daily!

Indeed, shortly before opening Lou’s mail, I had been thanking God for awakening me to a number of the small/big miracles He garnishes my daily life with to keep me happy. I told Lou that through much prayer and meditation during this Lenten season, I have come to better understand and readily accept that what can be – IS! What cannot and should not be; never has to be.

It is only when we stupidly attempt to supersede God and impose our will over His infinite wisdom and try to tamper with his designs for our ultimate happiness that we encounter frustrations, anger, impatience, dissatisfaction etc.

But on the other hand, when we live to the letter, the prayer that Jesus taught us: “Let Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven…” then we gradually learn to experience heaven on earth. The more we do so, the more our senses become alive to His small/big miracles in our lives and we are always happy.

The blue sea of goodness that laps and salts our life on earth blends in with the blue sky that lovingly waters and elevates our soul, our body, our heart and our spirit towards the very horizon that blends heaven and earth into our joyful daily life.

Yesterday, completely out of the blue I received a rare letter with enclosures from Alice. When I looked at the picture, I praised and Thanked God for this most evident small/big miracle. At first, I was eager to call Didier and share my thoughts with him.

Instead I am glad I chose to wait. I decided that I would do so when they would next come to pray. They usually come on Thursday nights. But last night, also out of the blue, they called asking if they could drop by?

I have realized over the last few months how meaningful it would have been for Didier to have his mother Marie Rose or at the very least his aunt Eve to walk him up the aisle on his wedding day! So as they sat down, I said Didier, please know that your mother has been particularly close to you over the last few weeks. And she has kept telling us so!

Look at the picture I just received out of the blue from Alice today!

But as if that is not enough, please tell me again where are your brother and his family staying since their arrival in Mauritius to attend your wedding? He answered: ‘Pointe d’Esny’.

I, then, asked him to look at the reverse side of the picture:

He exclaimed: Yes! That’s mommy’s writing all right! But why does Mom write ‘Pointe d’Esny’ when their bungalow was with the rest of the Leclezio clan in Trou d’Eau Douce?

As I watched tears well up in his eyes I had to ask: Yeah! Although it makes no sense, even Pointe d’Esny had to be there for Marie Rose to prove to you that she is present in our present! “How much louder does your mother have to scream that presence and her closeness to you ,for you to hear her at this very special ‘carrefour’ of your life?”

Didier and Valerie sure saw the burning bush in that picture last night. And their tears far from putting it out was fuelling its flames within their hearts pounding with love.

I will later share another experience viewed by the light of God as it shone briefly upon Eve a few days ago. In that light I was gratified to read the same unwritten words Jesus traced out with His finger in the sand. I read them to say: “Don’t worry! Be happy! Your daily prayers are heard. My mother and I are watching over Eve! We all continue to love her dearly.

God bless Mauritius… Paradise not lost… Yet…

Dear All,

I have just lived through three days of intense emotion.

On Saturday afternoon, Véronique invited me to attend a rally starting at 2:00 PM ending at 5:00PM against the proposed legalization of abortion in Mauritius. The large hall of St. Mary’s was packed full inside with hundreds more people standing outside. Not bad for a sunny Saturday afternoon!

Prior to the rally, Véronique had answered questions from the press. Various speakers referred to her press communiqué. A great Islamic theologian, Mr. Imran Beedassy representing the Jummah Mosquée quoted from various passages of the Koran regarding the evil of abortion. In ending he singled Véronique out to congratulate her on her ‘tit for tat’ press presentation. Mr. Beedassy and Véronique received a well earned ovation.

One of the most deplorable aspect that the so called civilized countries fail to consider concerning the snowballing evolution of the evil of abortion was highlighted by Mr. Adith Nobaub of ISKCON.

He first quoted from ‘Les Ecrits Védiques’ to point out that life is made of two elements: the spiritual and the material. From the time of conception it is the spiritual that ensures the growth of the body. This is why when our spirit departs, our flesh dies.

Woe! To those who dare destroy not only the flesh but the spirit!

Woe! To those large ‘civilized’ countries for the bad example they set for a small country like Mauritius who feels that ‘if the big ones did it, so should we, so can we’.

It would be abhorrent for a small self respecting country like Mauritius to choose to lose its integrity and moral high standards and to seek to justify the legalization of abortion on the grounds that those bigger ‘civilized’ powers have endorsed murder!

After living in America for thirty years, I was delighted to share one of my favorite quotes from Mahatma Gandhi with Adith.

An English journalist once asked Gandhi: “What do you think of Western civilization?”

After pondering over the question for a minute or two, Gandhi replied: “I think that it would be an excellent idea.”

How much more pertinent would Gandhi’s reply be today in the face of such a violent world promoting the slaughter of the most innocent of all, the voiceless and the powerless!

In this world gone wild, let us pray that Mauritius remains a rare beacon of light and of hope committed to the sanctity of LIFE!

Let modern Mauritian politicians not forget that their present day power in this country and the rich rewards the country is harvesting today was sown on the back of those who honored, cherished and found their strength in the abundance of life that God blessed them with yesterday!

Let modern Mauritian politicians not surrender to the counsel of the faithless, the ill advised and the short sighted. The lure of a fast buck cannot replace the long lasting power of life. The real strength in the value of people and the force of their number far exceeds the questionable worth of a dollar that cannot be counted upon.

Let modern Mauritian politicians listen to the voice of the enlightened:

In India where moral values are held high by the masses, last year the well-known religious leader and social activist, Swami Agnivesh, began a campaign across five northern and western Indian states against female foeticide. During his campaign he said:

"There's no other form of violence that's more painful, more abhorrent, more shameful".

'Motherhood'!

Respect for sanctity of life... Do some humans have much to learn yet...?

Mauritius already boasts of a controversial facility that sells monkeys for big profits to international labs for research.

Will the legalization of abortion give birth to the business of selling aborted babies piecemeal or whole to international labs?

Who will be its financial beneficiaries?

How lively a business will it prove to be in the long term for its advocates and or financial beneficiaries when it is rooted in death?

May modern Mauritian politicians listen to the voice of those in the US who have the courage to call a spade, a spade.

In the US: “The new Middle Passage in the greatest Holocaust in black history is the birth canal.

In the US: The civil rights 'élite' has forgotten the lives of unborn black children and has joined those who choose to kill them. Unbelievable! They have forgotten that in the past racists snatched black babies from their mother’s arms and sold them into slavery. Today, they snatch them from their mother’s womb and throw them in the garbage.

Let our ‘élite’ today not forget the sacrifices of those who put them there. Let all continue to respect and believe in the power of abundant life and vote for warm blood and the life it sustains as well as the power it generates!

In the light of the benefits of life, why is abortion so contagious? Why does abortion legislation take epidemic proportions?

Who are the real sponsors of abortion? Why?

As Christine reports from the ‘civilized’ USA:

“The Gruesome secrets of the abortion industry have been exposed by ABC's 20/20 and more. Strong evidence shows that many abortionists are providing aborted babies to companies who harvest and traffick them for research and profits.

Who's involved?

Pharmaceutical companies, politicians, Universities, the National Institutes of Health (NIH), research institutes and more. Planned Parenthood, the nation's largest abortion provider, is named in a Life Dynamics report which states that researchers are paying large sums of money for intact aborted babies - late-term, partial-birth abortion babies. Body parts and organs from babies aborted via other methods are also providing fresh tissue to the exploding, multi-billion dollar biotechnology industry. Click the "Shocking Story" link below to read several articles, including Mona Charen's column on "Fetal Harvesting."

http://www.prolife.com/HarvestingAbortedBabies.html

How many more billions of dollars are made annually from the consequences of ‘safe’ abortion through post psychological care for depression, sexual malfunction etc. and the medications associated therewith?

Do we get the picture yet?

Is abortion an altruistic Government responsibility or could it be a demoniacal and dark source of vast revenue for the limited ‘élite’?

Abortion under any form does not meet the need of women. Abortion is rather a sign that society and Government is not meeting the needs of women!

Not with rage, but rather through prayer, action and with wisdom, we must urge all Mauritians to meet our ban on abortion.

Please let us pray that Mauritius will remain a beacon of light acclaimed world wide by those who believe in the sanctity of all life!

Mauritius is a paradise not lost yet and never to be lost.

Yesterday we went to Trou d’Eau Douce.

In just over an hour we had collected over two pounds of big bigorneaux (periwinkles)!

I have eaten them in South Africa, Europe and Mauritius. Being unbiased, I declare that the best variety is to be found in Mauritius. My heart was pounding every time I saw a big one. After a forty years absence they were still to be found where I used to pick them forty years ago and they were just as big!

On our return to Curepipe, Didier and Valerie prepared a delicious bouillon for supper.


As if it was not enough to witness so many people showing up on Saturday to defend the sanctity of life, today I had another vivid testimony of how strong and alive the interdenominational faith is strong and alive in Mauritius.

On Saturday I had tears of joy listening to the passionate Speeches of the speakers and also listening to Emilie’s songs against abortion. Today, on the feast day of St. Joseph, I had tears of joy listening to Monseigneur Piat, to brother Michel from Reunion Island and to the director of St. Joseph’s College speaking about the role that the de La Salle Catholic brothers played in education in Mauritius! The College, my college was celebrating its 130th Anniversary today! I felt so privileged to share this moment and I thanked God for granting me an extra lease of life after my cancer surgery so I could walk to the church on time and be there!

Little has changed around the school yard and in the assembly hall over the last 45 years.

In the past I testified how in Mauritius, people of all color, creed and origin come together to participate reverently at each other’s ceremonies! Today a week day such a celebration lasted two and a half hours and no one left early regardless of their individual faith! There were seven priests and the Bishop around the altar!

During consecration I thanked God for the formation that I received at Saint Joseph’s college. A formation that I carried with me around the world! Our children remember how each morning as I dropped them at Sacred Heart School in Bellevue, I stopped and took time to go pray in front of St. Joseph asking him to help me be a good father and provider spiritually and materially.

I thanked God for our five children and our nineteen grand children with one more on the way this year1 What a rich life we have had regardless of how the likes of First American and its vassals Dufficy et al treated us…!

This is indeed the land that I love. This is indeed the land of the free…

Thanks be to God…

Invitation adressée a Mme. Eve Leclézio.

Chère Eve,

Comme tu le sais, tu es notre tante préférée. Valérie et moi nous serions tellement heureux que tu sois à notre mariage à Rodrigues le 11 Avril 2007.

Malheureusement nous n’avons pas ton adresse. Nous espérons que tu liras le blog de Louis à temps et que tu seras là pour partager notre joie.

Tous, nous t’aimons et nous t’embrassons très fort,

Didier et Valérie.

Le Vase Brisé…

Une histoire Mauricienne très ancienne qui me fut racontée par Mimi, ma vieille nénène!

Il était une fois à Terre Rouge près de Arsenal au nord de Port Louis, vivait un potier. Il aimait tellement son métier. Tous les passants le voyaient touts les jours assis ou debout, les pieds et les mains constamment en mouvement fabriquant des vases en terre glaise à l’ombre du grand flamboyant qui lui servait de parasol.

Flamboyant

Après bien des années de travail, et sentant approcher sa fin, il s’appliquait de plus en plus a façonner des vases les uns encore plus beau que les autres. Les gens venaient de partout pour acheter ses vases.

Potier au metier

Cependant un beau matin au levé du soleil, par un rayon de lumière reflétait par la fleur de flamboyant rouge orangé a ses pieds, une idée lui passait dans l’esprit. Pourquoi ne pas abandonner la soif d’argent et la quantité de vases a fabriquer pour se concentrer sur la beauté et la qualité d’un vase qui ne serait jamais a vendre et dont il ne se séparerait jamais. Des vases, encore des vases, toujours des vases. Il en avait déjà fait, vu et vendu tant et tant de ces vases ! Avant de mourir il aimerait tellement en faire un très beau, le plus beau pour lui, pour lui seul. Il décidait donc d’arreter de faire tout autre vase bien décidé de mouler et de sculpter un vase qui un jour éclipserait tout les autres vases du passé!

Ce vase, cet unique vase plus beau que tout autre, plus il y pensait, mieux il le concevait. Il y a certains jours, il le voyait si clairement dans sa tête, devant lui qu’il croyait l’avoir déjà créé. Mon dieu, comme il le trouvait beau ! Mais quand il avancait les bras pour le toucher, la rude réalité lui rappelait bien vite qu’il lui fallait encore trouver le matériel idéal pour le façonner, le tourner, le sculpter, le cuire et finalement le contempler et l’admirer ce vase qui serait plus beau que tout autre.

Vivrait il assez longtemps pour le créer et le connaître ce vase ? Ce vase unique et, plus beau que tout autre, ce vase qu’il aimerait par-dessus tout et dont la création lui ouvrirait les portes de l’éternité ou son souvenir l’accompagnerait ?

Après avoir eu cette idée à travers ce rayon de soleil reflétait par la fleur rouge orangé du flamboyant, pendant quatre ans il tourna en rond dans son girond les yeux cloués au sol recherchant à ras de terre, cette pièce de terre glaise dont la couleur, la texture et même l’odeur l’aiderait à reconnaître la terre presque magique qui lui permettrait de réaliser son rêve et sa création. Ne trouvant rien de neuf ou de différent auprès de son humble case en tôle ou de simple brèdes garnissait si souvent son assiette, il décidait un jour de partir à l’aventure pour un pays lointain à la recherche de… ?

Humble case en tole

Un jour au loin et après bien des mois, tard dans la soirée, en marchant seul le long de la rive d’un fleuve au courant puissant, alors qu’il ne cherchait même plus ce morceau de terre magique, et qu’il n’y pensait presque plus à ce vase unique qui serait plus beau que tout autre; là, à la lueur rose orangé d’un rayon du soleil couchant, là tout au bord de l’eau, il fixa son regard sur ce morceau de terre glaise. Mon Dieu, comme il était beau dans tout son naturel et toute sa simplicité ! En sursaut son rêve se réveillait en lui et en un instant il retrouvait la vision de ce vase uniquement beau, tellement plus beau que tout autre.

Fleuve

En effet, en un seul instant ce morceau de terre se soulevait du sol trempé pour se transformer en ce vase plus beau que tout les autres. La vision renouvelée de ce magnifique vase faisait déjà palpiter son cœur alors qu’il se ruait vers ce morceau de terre sans âme pour le ramasser. Avec cette terre, il savait qu’il saurait et qu’il pourrait le mouler, le façonner, le sculpter et le créer ce vase qui chanterait la gloire de Dieu et de sa création toute entière. D’ailleurs, la couleur rouge vif de la terre semblait refléter la couleur de son propre cœur qui était soudain tout gonflé de foi, d’espoir et d’amour.

Il savait que cela ne serait pas facile de le façonner, ce vase. Cela demanderait beaucoup d’effort et de dextérité. Cela prendrait du temps, beaucoup de temps et de patience. Mais nourrit par un surcroît d’amour il arriverait bien à le façonner, le tourner, le sculpter, le cuire et le transformer ce morceau de terre glaise qui finirait par être un vase bien unique et plus beau, beaucoup plus beau que tout les autres. Aurait il, la patience, la force, le courage, le temps et surtout assez d’amour pour le compléter avant de mourrir afin de pouvoir le contempler pour toujours, en l’aimant et l’admirant chaque jour d’avantage ?

Il était bien confiant que Dieu l’aiderait.

Donc une fois ramassé, il tournait ce morceau de terre et il le retournait dans sa main laissant ces doigts le caresser avec amour et tendresse. Il fermait les yeux et voyait a nouveau la forme que le vase prendrait entre ses doigts avec soin et amour. La texture si douce, si palpable et combien malléable de ce morceau de terre humide lui rappelait son enfance alors que la vie sculptait sa propre personnalité. Ce bout de terre, il allait lui aussi le sculpter et lui donner une personnalité qui serait admiré par tous et pour toujours.

La viscosité, et même l’odeur subtile de cette terre baptisé par les eaux de la rivière confirmait qu’entre ses mains par et avec tout son cœur il arriverait a recréer la vision conçu dans son esprit pour être aimé de toute son âme. Aimer avec corps et âme et avec du temps, un jour il arriverait à créer a partir de cette terre glaise malléable et encore trempé quelque chose de durable et de vraiment solidement beau en la fortifiant au cœur des braises de filaos de ces fourneaux d’où elle sortirait toute renouvelée!

En effet, au départ et sans aucun doute c’était une pâte a modeler plus belle que toutes les autres. Une pâte comme il n’en avait jamais vu aux alentours de sa case en tôle a Arsenal près de Terre Rouge au nord de Port Louis. Et elle offrait tant de promesse pour lui permettre de réaliser son rêve. Rêvant en marchant il tripotait soigneusement cette pâte magique, celle qu’il avait tant cherché pendant si longtemps et qu’il ne pensait même plus jamais trouver !

Maintenant cette pâte dans sa main lui redonnait goût à son métier et à sa vie. Wow ! Cette pâte il fallait la surprotéger pour qu’elle ne perde pas ses belles qualités innées au bord, par, dans et avec l’eau du fleuve au courant puissant qui l’avait baptisé et formé. Il l’enferma dans un récipient hermétique et il se dépêcha de retourner avec elle dans son pays pour façonner sur le seuil de sa case en tôle ce vase, ce super, superbe vase a l’ombre du grand flamboyant au feuilles vertes et au fleurs rouge orangé qui lui servait de parasol naturel. Oui, ce vase il serait bien son dernier et son plus beau. Il savait que ce vase signé par lui serait son chant du cygne…

A suivre…