"Oh, there’s lots changing," we told him, "lots going on, lots of life in the Church." We told him about some of it, including, of course, the Eucharistic Congress. He was open, interested. Perhaps he’d like to see the procession, we said. "Thousands of people were going to walk on the streets of Quebec on Thursday with the Blessed Sacrament."

Yes, he answered, perhaps he’d go.

This was the first of many graced moments of the Eucharistic Congress.

Eleven of us from MH Combermere attended, and the eight-day congress was so vast, so deep, so filled with grace and life. How to tell you about it all? All I can do is touch on some highlights—some things that struck me.

Going to the heart of our faith: The theme of this particular conference was, "The Eucharist: Gift of God for the Life of the World."

What could be more at the heart of our faith, of its very essence, than the Eucharist, and the whole congress was very much focused on the Eucharist, "our greatest treasure," "the source of all our life, love, power, and strength," "food for our life."

This focus on God himself and the truth of his unfathomable love for us was so life-giving. I left the congress with a deep, deep sense of God’s love for me and for all humanity.

The congress was focused on our call to love others, too, especially the poor, and some of the best talks were about this by those who are deeply involved with the poor—mostly cardinals and bishops from the Third World and founders of new communities. Jean Vanier, for example, spoke with fire.

That desire to love others and the ability to do so, they said over and over, flow from the Eucharist. It is no accident that, almost without exception, those who lay down their lives for the poor are people who know God loves them and who love him passionately: people such as Jean Vanier, Mother Teresa, and our own Catherine Doherty.

People: Of course, a big part of such an event is what happens among people—both those you know and those you don’t. It was such a joy to see fellow staff from the field (seven from four different houses) and to bump into so many of our former visitors.

As for people one doesn’t know, in such an atmosphere, it is easy to meet them. Was it a gift of the congress that I saw the beauty of individual people more than I usually do? Most of my encounters brought joy—and some of them, like our first one in the old city, were truly providential.

Talks and Homilies: There were very many in French, English, and Spanish, and when you didn’t understand the language, you listened to a simultaneous translation on individual radios.

We were, for example, given a daily catechesis on the Eucharist by a cardinal or bishop and a daily testimony, mostly by founders of new communities.

So much was said, more than we could ever take in in one hearing. A number of the talks and homilies were outstanding, but it was Cardinal Tomko whose words seared my heart—Cardinal Tomko, the papal legate, the representative of the pope.

His homilies were short and simple: no stories, no attention-grabbing techniques, no explanations, none of the things homilists are supposed to do. He spoke the essence straight from his heart and life, with strength, authority, and conviction.

"Christ did not give us something. He gave us himself." "Jesus became bread and wine because he wanted to become our food and sustain our life." "Without the Eucharist, we die." His words went straight to my heart and fed me for days.

Prayer: The congress was filled with prayer. The liturgies were dignified, surprisingly simple, prayerful, strong, and though they were long, they felt short.

Eight adoration chapels were scattered throughout the city—two of them at the congress site—and whenever I went into one, it was filled with people. Sometimes you could hardly find a spot to squeeze into.

Sometimes the prayer of the crowd was palpable. The time after Communion at the opening Mass was one such time. The celebrant waited a long time before he continued the Mass, and I wondered if this had been planned or if he was moving with what was happening.

Church: The whole congress was an experience of Church. Often when the 42 cardinals and 285 bishops from all over the world processed up to the altar at the beginning of Mass, the crowd burst into spontaneous applause.

In the music and in the familiar ritual somehow made bigger and richer; in the sheer number of cardinals, bishops, and priests at the altar as well as in the crowds who had come from all over the world; in the liturgies; and in the processions, the Church shone forth in its splendor.

I got a sense of Church, too, in the exhibition hall, where many organizations and communities had tables. Much life is happening in the Church. So many groups are doing so many things for God and neighbor—many of these things very little known.

The Church of Quebec: The congress took place in Quebec City on the 400th anniversary of the founding of that city, the first permanent settlement in what is now Canada. More importantly, this year is the 400th anniversary of the bringing of Christianity to Canada.

At the congress one touched the Church of Quebec, the Church of French Canada both past and present, something especially close to my heart since I am half French Canadian.

The past, as the Canadian National Anthem puts is, was trempé de fois (soaked in faith.) Much could be said (the history of French Canada is fascinating and well worth reading) but suffice it to say that early Quebec must have had the highest per capita saints and blesseds in the history of the Church—the eight Jesuit martyrs, Marie de l’Incarnation, Bishop Laval, Marguerite Bourgeois, Mother Catherine of St. Augustine, and others.

There are later saints and blesseds as well, and until quite recently, Quebec was a thoroughly Catholic culture.

And the present? In many ways it is similar to that of the rest of the modern industrialized world—a de-Christianized, secular society. Its situation is perhaps especially tragic given that the massive loss of faith was so sudden and the past so deeply Catholic. (Quebec now has the lowest church attendance in Canada.)

But throughout the congress, we also saw signs of hope. I saw this hope in the vibrant new ecclesial communities, which have many young members, and which took such an active part in the congress, and in some of the people I met—three of them French Canadian Sisters, who are hard-working, warm, and wholly dedicated women.

It was one of these who pointed out to me another sign of hope that she saw—the spirit and generosity of the young volunteers at the congress, some of whom had given a year or more of their lives to the preparatory work of the congress.

And the ordination of twelve men to the priesthood during the congress was a shining light.

But the biggest sign of hope that I saw was the cardinal of Quebec City—Cardinal Marc Ouellet. As the Eucharist is the gift of God for the life of the world, he seems to be the gift of God for the Church in Quebec.

A strong, holy leader who is completely faithful to the Magisterium of the Church, Cardinal Ouellet is pouring out his life courageously, eloquently, and publicly for a renewal of the Church in Quebec.

He put a lot of his energies and prayer into the Eucharistic Congress, and his joy during the congress was palpable. At the lively Saturday evening prayer vigil with his devoted young people, he said he felt as if he had been "raised from the dead."

What to say about an event that cannot be captured in words? All I know is that, in the midst of the terrible things that are going on in this world, for just a few days, I glimpsed the light shining through the darkness.

I pray that the future will show that it was more than a light, however wonderful that light was. I pray that we and those who come after us will be able to look back and see that it truly was a turning point, the turning point that many of us had been praying that it would be, not only for the Church in Quebec but also for the Church in all of Canada.