St. Joseph's Oratory, Montreal

When we were children we would bike to the Oratory, it wasn't far, then walk around, always in awe and amazed by the size of the place and the celebration of religion that was unlike anything found in daily life, or my life; it was exotic, supernatural, and incredible. On occasion I still visit the Oratory, and quite often I drive by the entrance on Queen Mary Road and look up and marvel. The small chapel is where Saint Brother Andre began his healing ministry; later the larger building that most people are familiar with was constructed.

Driving by the Oratory, on Queen Mary Road

The smaller, older, chapel

In the original, small, chapel near the Oratory

In the small chapel

In the small chapel

Historical photographs of St. Joseph's Oratory

 

Work on St. Joseph's Oratory; early 1900s

The first chapel at St. Joseph's Oratory

1950s

Climbing the stairs at St. Joseph's Oratory

Photo taken 1938

Childhood days at St. Joseph's Oratory

These 15K year old caves below an area in Montreal are an incredible discovery. Photographs of the caves make it look like the walls are lined with brick, but this is stratified rock as I learned in high school geography class (Mr. McGee?), and the ceiling looks as though it was carved out by people. This also reminds me of when we were kids and used to take the bus to St. Joseph's Oratory, a few miles from where we lived, and we'd walk around looking at the thousands of crutches that belonged to people Saint Brother Andre (he's been made a saint) healed, the smell of candles and incense, Brother Andre's heart in a container in a separate room and the heart was stolen by someone and returned many years later, Brother Andre's corpse (minus his heart) lay in a black granite casket with little notes folded and squeezed between the cracks of the casket with requests for healing of various sorts. What a great place to grow up! You won't find this in white bread North America! But I also remember that one winter we discovered man-made caves located, I believe, to the left of the Oratory building, below where the garden of the Stations of the Cross was located, as you stood looking up from Queen Mary Road. We would enter these "caves" and walk around exploring. Always exploring. Our parents didn't know anything of our adventures because we never thought to tell them and would they really care? Probably not, we weren't yet filled with the fear of predators, clowns, deviants, or pornographers. After time spent there, when it was dark at 5 p.m., we'd take the bus home with frost bitten toes in the short dark winter days.

Images of St. Joseph's Oratory, Montreal: