As dawn broke last Sunday, the streets of Lourdes in south-western France were already heaving with crowds winding their way down the hill from the train station to the Sanctuary, many already having travelled for hours that morning to reach the town. Whether they had come from next-door Tarbes or from Manila or Brazil, and whether they were wearing backpacks, carrying children on their shoulders or pushing a wheelchair, everyone was buzzing with excitement. I was passed by group of teenagers singing alleluias.
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