Saturday morning I had the delight to meet Ernest and Claude Molitor, certainly a relative from several generations before. They came at 9:00, joining me for breakfast. Unfortunately, just as we were about to sit down, we heard the dog yelp. She had gotten behind a car that Guy was moving up the hill toward the house; she could not be seen. This changed the course of events for Guy and Elisabeth for the day since they had to take the gentle and forgiving dog to the vet in Mersch; she was limping badly. As they made their way out the driveway, I sat down with the Molitors.
In sharing our family trees we have found that Philippe Manternach and his wife née Thérèse Schumacher is the common starting point. Ernest’s family tree is of the Schumacher’s. By what was written down, it seemed possibly that Philippe was a son of Nicholas III. However, the dates do not align according to Fr. Albert’s history. There is a ten-year difference to account for. I would like to find out who are the parents of Philippe. This would be a younger brother to Nicholas, and agrees with the story that Philippe and his sister Cecile were cousins of Henry, our great-great grandfather.
Later in the day I received an email from Ernest with this family information: Nicholas’ wife, Ann Maria Weber, was the sister of Ernest’s great grandmother who married Peter Molitor. The farming community here is still close-knit, as I understand, so it is no surprise that the prettiest women would marry the handsomest men in the area. I hope that we can keep in touch via email.
Guy and Elisabeth returned about 11:00 with the dog, who seems only to be badly bruised but with pain relievers. The Molitors stayed a little while longer; we all sat at the pond until a little after noon watching the dog for fear she might misstep into the pond. However, she stayed dry, and at least she wanted to be around people.
In the afternoon, I decided to take a longer drive to a city in the northern part of Luxembourg – Clervaux – because the weather was perfect for a walk. There is a museum there with a photographic exhibit called “The Family of Man” and some walking trails surrounding the town. I left the house about 2:00. The drive was relaxing. I found the castle-museum, but the exhibit I was expecting to see was closed for renovation. So was the exhibit of miniature castles depicting chateaus from all over Luxembourg. However, the part of the house dedicated to the Battle of the Bulge was open.
Once again the impact of WWII on the people of the area took a stronghold in me. This place was at the very heart of the fight for independence from Germany, which had annexed them immediately. Many letters of testimony and thanks were exhibited along with the munitions and uniforms of the war, even a brown scapular (called a talisman) from one of the American soldiers who had perished. I was moved.
After this viewing, I climbed the hill toward the abbey, stopping in at the parish church where a woman was practicing the organ, and then following the road to the top. The Benedictine men’s abbey is quite “new” having been built at the beginning of the 20th century. The chapel is beautifully renovated with simplicity and light. I visited the “expo” of abbey life below the chapel. Here I discovered that Dom Paul Benoit had been a resident of the community. He was a composer as well as an organist who taught the well-known French organists of the turn of the century – Debussy, Faurés, Ravel, et al.
The bookshop was open, too. I found a wooden-bead rosary for my nephew who makes his first communion today. The monk blessed it especially for him.
Now it was time to return to the car, as my parking permit would expire in half an hour. I stopped again at the church to see if there would be Mass in the evening, but no. So I went on to the car taking the opposite direction around the chateau. The street was lined with eating places, many of them already busy. I stopped to buy a Magnum caramel and almond ice cream bar at one of the cafés because I heard that they were very good. Indeed it was, like a Dove bar but better.
I reached Larochette just before 6:00. Seeing people heading to the church, I parked the car and went in to Mass. The choir was singing, but the congregation did not have any way to participate in the music – I saw no books or papers. Interestingly the Mass setting in Latin was the same one that was being used at the church in Nice, so I could at least hum along. I like it. It may be one to use in the States during the transition time if someone wants to use the Latin text.
Afterwards, I walked across the street to the medieval festival. The crowd was quite small, but the “players” were enthusiastic for their task: food was being served, wood was being chopped, coal was being ground, and along with two coats of armor there were other small items from the time to observe.
There was a musical group singing French/Belgian folksongs. And a camper was set up selling sausages on a bun and beer. I went across the street to the Café de la Place, recommended by Elisabeth to have supper. The music was just the right volume from there, too. I had a chevre chaud salad: lettuce with a mustard dressing, served with small toasted squares topped with baked goat cheese seasoned with oregano, and garnished with a tomato and 3 slices of melon. It was just what I wanted.
I made it back to the house about 8:20 p.m., which was a good time to Skype family on this special day for my nephew. The First Communion Mass was not until 4 pm but that would be 11 pm my time; the time difference fascinated my nephew. I’m sure they had a good party if the rain stopped at all.
Sunday morning dawned bright and clear. Elisabeth and I sat for a long while. She showed me pictures of the house when they bought it. It really must have been a strong dream for them to commit to four years of renovation before they could even move in. The transformation is amazing.
This afternoon, I am trying to update the blog, then to pack the bag into something that is manageable. Elisabeth will lead me to the airport this evening so that I can drop off the car. I won’t be able to check in early, so we will leave at 4 a.m. in the morning to catch the flight to Amsterdam/Trondheim.
It has been a wonderful week in Luxembourg. So many people have welcomed my inquiries and interest in the country. It feels very much like home. Now if I could only learn Luxembourgoise – after I secure a little more French.
This may be the last entry of the blog until I return to the States. The next two weeks I will be in Norway with the Cistercian sisters in Trondheim. The first week I will assist with musical consultations; the second week I will be on retreat.
So much love to you, Dear Reader. It has been a pleasure to share my travels with you in this medium. You are in my thoughts and prayers. With love, LaDonna
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