Beech Nut Still In His Mouth: An Evangeline Parish Ex-Pat Remembers Squirrel Day of His Youth

 

From my younger years in the 70’s, I remember with distinct clarity, the palpable excitement in the air as the opening day of Louisiana squirrel season approached. Long before Facebook and Twitter, or Budget day, men and boys at schools, stores, and bars, busily chatted of special spots, careful not to reveal exact locations, but trying to figure out locations others were speaking of.  As the season neared, we spent hours in the woods looking for cuttings, where squirrels were feeding, “calling” spots, which gave unofficial stake to a found bevy of squirrel activity. More hours putting thought into, and discussing the “best” hunting clothes and shells, and packing them.

The day before the season opened, the loaded pickups and campers headed to the woods. Supper eaten around the fire, men drinking beer and whiskey, boys overdosing on pop and messing with the fire, anxiously asking each other, “so where’re you going tomorrow?” It was hard to sleep that night, thinking about the next morning, and through the tipsy men’s snoring.
The next morning came with a wave of excitement, not even overtaken by presents under the tree at Christmas. Men chuckled at the boys, who were afraid to get out too late and miss the first movement, and gave them last minute advice. “Move your eyes, not your head, even if a mosquito bites you”. “Listen for the whoosh of the branch that a squirrel jumped on, or the scrape of claws on bark”. “Don’t get impatient and move too soon.”
I remember feeling hurried during the trek through the woods by flashlight, to the prescouted spot of known squirrel activity. “What if it gets light earlier today”. I remember feeling even more hurried as I tried in the dark to pick a sitting spot with the best view of the cutting tree, sometimes sitting at several spots. The whole affair climaxed as first light began to filter through the trees, and tension built as the time neared for gray squirrels to begin moving. I remember being a bit mad when I heard shots before I saw something, worried someone was getting ahead of me, and maybe I picked the wrong spot. Then….that telltale whoosh of a branch with the jumping weight of a squirrel in the still air. My heart would race so much I had to fumble for the safety of my shot gun.
There he is, looking like a thin string flying along the branches in the dim light! Gun comes to shoulder, but he’s gone, bitter disappointment and trembling hands, the gun comes down. There he is again! Gun comes up, but he’s running and zig zagging too fast to find at the end of the barrel. Then gone again. Man, I’ll never kill one today. Then, there he is, shaking the end of the big beech tree I found the cuttings under. A trembling aim, and BOOM! And…..nothing. Oh, man…how did I miss. I won’t cry, but I sure want to. Then, thump, thump, POOF!, The squirrel finally falls, hitting branches on the way down to that satisfying thump on the ground.
I should wait to see if there’s more, but I can’t help but run over to where I think he fell. There he is, with pretty soft fur, beech nut still in his mouth. I pick him up and admire him for a few minutes, noticing all the little ticks on him, before sliding him in my bag. The shooting of other hunters reminds me I need to get going if we’re gonna be eating brown gravy tonight, so I move off, constantly feeling behind me to make sure he’s still in the bag.
Getting back to camp after the squirrels quit moving, we each felt the need to discuss, in complete detail the full sequence of events that lead up to each squirrel seen, complete with dramatizations. Then, that night, there was somewhat of a blissful feeling, eating squirrel and brown gravy, cooked by master chefs. I remember feeling sorry for the women folk who had nothing better to do than go shopping.


Bryan LaFleur, grew up in L'anse Grise, a suburb of Mamou, La. He joined the Marine Corps right after high school, which had a huge and long lasting impact on him. After enlistment, he ended up in NE Texas, though he is not sure how. He has reconnected with his Cajun cultural roots in SW Louisiana through the language and music with the help of his parents and friends. Bryan is an artist who makes incredibly beautiful Cajun Accordions (check out L'Anse Grise Accordions) and is also fluent in Franglais, Cajun French and Korean. Who knew?! Bryan is a fireman in the Dallas metroplex, and, he says, is lovin' it. (via Facebook)

The author with some another catchs, in Lanse Grise 1980 (via B. Lafleur, Facebook)

Prairie des Femmes Compass Rose

Rob Perillo is the Balm

Rob touches the comet Pan-Starrs without getting burned.

Rob Perillo is our Chief Weatherman on KATC TV 3 in Lafayette, Louisiana. People around here really love to know about the weather. They live close to the land, and Rob is always a reliable, even jovial source of weather news and lore. Not only that, Rob always has some trivia or something creative to say and tells you about comets, meteors, blue moons, hurricanes, local folklore, as well as the exact time and direction of the passing of the space shuttle at night. Sometimes I hear these little quips and put them out on my Prairie Femme Twitter account...and I usually tag +Rob Perillo, too, or otherwise troll him on his social media... so he knows how much we appreciate his wordsmithing and weathermaning! 

Like this one time I commented on his status update about his use of the word "balmy", he "liked" it on Facebook (!!), then later on the news, I heard him emphasize the word- "Ladies and Gentlemen it's going to be a BALMY evening..." Just sayin.


I love when it rains and Rob says that it's "good sleeping weather". 

"A smokey haze tonight. You can smell the sugarcane burning."
  
"The fragrance of ligustrum in the air..."

Rob says he's not just going to "overtly forecast fog for tonight." That's why we love you Rob!

Rob says that tonight's lows will be in the "sultry low mid-70s"


I love when Rob says "Let's kick it upstairs and put the radar-satellite composite in motion, baby" (I added the baby, but hey! He might have said it/might say it if he reads this.) (Bonjour Rob!!)

OR he might just say: 

"Let's kick it upstairs and look at the radar satellite composite! "

"Moisture lurks in the Gulf"  yes it does.

"Nice looking cumulonimbus canopy shrouding Acadiana this afternoon. System already raining itself out...slowly..."

"It's gonna be rough out in the Gulf of Mexico so batten down the hatches!" 

"No pipe issues tonight."

"The air IS juicy."

"Cirrus clouds painting pretty pastels..."
  
Rob Perillo just sang, "The sun'll come out, tomorrow." Details at 10.

Rob Perillo is talking about the crescent moon and Venus in the western sky. #swoon.

@robperillo recommends that you recline on a chaise lounge chair a few minutes before 8 pm in order to see the space shuttle in the western sky.

"Do expect a sultry one tonight."

"A steamy one tonight!"

"A sultry summer night and the mosquitos are certainly in play."

"Don't say Perillo didn't warn you!"




Follow Rob on Twitter

People Love Rob! Street Art, Downtown Lafayette

(Warning: This is where the CajunNet and the Internet collide with results as accurate as Rob's eight day forecast.)

Tasse de Café Reunion Part Deux

I went to the Tasse de Cafe Radio Show Reunion in Ville Platte, where people who call in to the program get together and have a live, more raunchy version. I was at the first one last year and it's sad: people who were there are now in the hospital (Get well soon Mister Allen!) or no longer with us anymore (RIP ROGE!). I went early and set up my recorder by the speaker.

 I sat at a table between Mrs. Rose Soileau of Belaire and Mrs.Verna Fontenot of Tate Cove. They were flanked by their husbands, Mister Elvin "Soup" and Mister Gerald, famous Creole Cowboy and Godfather of the Tournoi. We were joined by Mister Don Fontenot. Miss Rose started telling me about her friend who had just passed away. Elle se couchait bien gaillarde, et le lendemain, le Bon Dieu l'a pris. Mister Don immediately told me he liked the way I spoke French, but I still needed some lessons! lol. That was true, and I was about to get a few...

But First, ROLL CALL! initiated by Floyd Soileau:





Mister Jim began with a Hail Mary in French. Click here to hear it. Mister Elvin started teaching me old words like un serpent bambara - black egg snake. He talked about the difference between a ti peu of something or a ti brin of something. Both mean a "little", but he said, and le monde agreed, that they were used at different times for different things. I always thought they could be used interchangeably. He said he used ti brin most often with cheveux, (un poil, a little bit of hair) and un ti peu with things like ice (un ti peu de la glace) ou kekchose...as his fingertips grasped his shirt, a napkin, the air. Mister Don asked me if I knew my prayers in French. I said I knew four. He said he had a packet of them and would drop it off at the station for me. How nice!

Mister Floyd Soileau, conteur des contes told a couple of great stories as well as racy contes. Click here to hear a dirty joke in French.

The best was when Mister J.D. Soileau, who always has some uncommon words, got up to talk about how he searched all everywhere on the Internet for a word:




... about what a jambit/jambee, or scarecrow was. It sounds kind of like a Hatian Creole word to me. I wonder about its origins, sounds a lot like ZOMBIE doesn't it?

Mark, Jim and Charlie

Nick's on Main

JD talks Zombie

The Soileaus de Belaire Cove and Don Fontenot

Mister Floyd reads in English, translates into French.

white socks and black shoes are an Evangeline Parish signature style

I won the doorprize and left with a medium Evangeline Special Pizza under my arm...

Journal from the Past

I have kept pretty detailed journals my whole life. Here are a few pages from the one I was writing in ten years ago this week. It was the week I met my husband.

Dolphin Gumbo

No matter what team Louisiana sports teams play, we will make a gumbo with the opposing team's mascot. I have heard of Gator Gumbo when we play Florida, Dumbo Gumbo when we play Alabama, War Eagle Gumbo when we play Auburn, and Blue Jay Gumbo when we played Saint Edmund's Catholic in Eunice. In high school, the boys would hang a dead Blue Jay in the gym and on Friday we would chant "We want gumbo, bluejay gumbo!" *clap clap*

I have never, however, until today heard of a Dolphin Gumbo. Sounds like clean eatin'!

Here, via the Tasse de Cafe radio program, good sport Dr. Tim Fontenot cheers on the Who Dats! GO SAINTS!


But they'll say:

Ask any Who Dat

You happen to see

What makes the best gumbo?

Da Chicken of da Sea

The Dolphins!






Dolphin Gumbo Ingredients

2 lbs pounds fresh dolphin fillet, cubed
1 pound peeled medium shrimp
1 dozen medium to large oysters in their liquor, about 9 ounces
3/4 pound crabmeat
3 chopped onions
1 chopped green bell pepper
1 chopped celery stick
a few cloves of garlic

Seasoning Mix:
2 whole bay leaves
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground red pepper (preferably cayenne)
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme leaves
1/4 teaspoon dried oregano leaves

3/4 cup vegetable oil
3/4 cup all-purpose flour

5 1/2 cups Basic Seafood Stock 



 

Traiteurs

  

Mark:

If there's anybody in our local area that still does the treating, like the old time des traiteurs.

Charlie:

Oh yes! That's a dying art!

Bonjour qui tu parles?

Madame Reed:

Hey... I know about a traiteur.

Ok.

I went to- I had- Ma- The top of ma foot was hurtin', so I went to de foot docta. I had a spur right on the top of ma foot, so he says, you mustn't lace ya shoes right dere. He says, I can cut if off for you. I said, but I'm on blood-thinners, he said well, we can't do surgery. So I found out about dis man in Opelousas, I went over dere, he treated me and until today the spur don't bother me one bit. And you know we had an old man in Ville Platte, Mister Alcide Gallo, he treated for anything. He treated me for high blood pressure...

Is he still alive?

No, he died, he was 102 years old. He was in the nursing home the last time he treated me for high blood pressure. 

-wow and he helped, huh...

...another man in Port Barre that treats, too. I was treated a lot, me. You know what? I talked to my doctor about dat because he's from, outa state, Watemale ou quek-chose. I told, I said hey, Dr. Alverez, did you ever hear of a... I had forgot how to say it in English...he said, I said, did you ever hear of a traiteur? Yeah, he said, I know what's a traiteur! He said I know exactly what's dat- dey have dat where I'm from! 


Dr. Tim:

And about the traiteurs...Dr. Alverez said is right...Nobody has the gift to heal unless it's given to 'em from above whether it be a doctor, therapist, or a traiteur. To some extent we all traiteurs.  So even if he denies it or not, the gift comes from God. 

No money- if you wanna make a donation, fine, but-

They don't ask for anything. It's a gift freely given to them, so they give that gift freely, too. I've never known a traiteur to accept any money, other than someone reaching in their pockets and say, here, lemme...

...yeah, yeah.. if they give... they don't ask for no payments...they don't... that's right...they'll accept a donation just like you accept the healing, you know?

Pour la Paix dans Syria

Aussite dans les nouvelles de Vatican le Pape Francis après demander au monde de le join pour des prières, là. La fin de semaine qui vient, un jour pour être en jeun et pis prier pour la paix dans le pays de Syria. Le Pape avait invité le monde de tout religion de le join samedi au soir, samedi après-midi, à Saint Peter's Square pour prier pour la paix dans Syria et dans tout le monde. Il a declaré "p'us de guerre s'il vous plaît". Il a parlé à des milles et des milles des persones dans le Saint Peter's Square dimanche et que il dit le monde a besoin de 'oir des efforts pour conduire de la paix dans tout le monde.

Cajun French Homecoming T-shirts

At the local high school where I taught, homecoming week is passed in good cheer with theme days: pajama day, crazy day, camouflage day, nerd day, 80's day, etc. For our school, they even had Cajun day where, I saw students dressing up as the stereotype of a Cajun character they had seen portrayed on television: no teeth, barefoot, straw hat, big smile, cut offs, with a pirouge paddle, nutria rat pelt. I even found myself getting into the spirit on that day, wearing my husband's Dickies pants and boots and carrying a large wooden roux spoon. So I took the day to talk to my students about these swamp stereotypes and in response, we came up with "Cajun French" t-shirt slogans to make white t-shirts to wear our Cajun French on Cajun Day like a read Cajun would. The principal, a fellow Ville Plattian and bon vivant, agreed, so I let my students choose what they wanted to put on their shirts. Here is the list of the most crazy/nonsensical/pop-culture/Cajun French/rap/cowboy amalgam of words I have ever seen. Was I ever proud!!

Exit 11 Update

When I started exploring love of place, no one taught me more than the EXIT 11 posse from Grand Coteau and "the Set". Exit 11 is also the exit for the PDF. I ride for Exit 11.

Roun hea!

Act like you aint catch dat

Time to turn up

POOSE MANE!!!!!

Mamas Cry in the PDF

White World

MaBlog

I began the Prairie des Femmes blogspot one year ago this month, and today, on the Feast of the Assumption, I have been thinking about what the project really is.

 

I began this blog at a time when I stopped teaching to stay home with my children and needed an outlet before I caved. My husband was touring and traveling a lot for work and I was alone in the Prairie des Femmes with two young children. Then there were many family changes including the deaths of beloved patriarch and matriarch and the unraveling that can follow. Around the same time, an article about our house came out in the New York Times (Click here for the article.) Feeling a little exposed, and in desperate need of a refuge, I began this blog spot (that I jokingly called "mablog" when talking to friends) in hopes that I could organize the information that I have always kept in journals about life in Louisiana, French, and family stories/local folklore. I wanted a place where I could share my writing and possibly provide a tool for other young Louisianians to learn about the Louisiana French language/culture from a younger person's perspective. I wanted to share the story of how I learned Louisiana French and the struggles of teaching it to my children and my students, as well as the things that helped me learn: friends, funny local French, lyrics, Sainte Anne, KVPI. I began the blog also as an excuse to research the history and origins of the name Prairie des Femmes, which is a real place where we really live. 

 

I had a want to capture what it really felt like to live here, in Saint Landry Parish, Louisiana in modern times. I wanted to capture a certain juxtaposition of the richness of the land and culture of the people, and the poverty of the system and the state amid hurricane, oilspill, crime, poverty. I wanted to document the beautiful things about out culture, the good things that have not dissipated, but have lived and changed and thrived, but I wanted to not make Louisiana or the PDF look like a utopian haven of beauty and culture, which it is, but it isn't. No place is perfect, not even Louisiana (and that's the only time I'll ever admit that). I wanted to explore the things that cloche- or that are croche- what it is like to drive down a littered dirt road lined with grottos to the Blessed Mother, next to a gorgeous but polluted bayou, while booming vulgar rap music, or maybe Cajun music. I wanted to capture the way that the old intersects with the new in this wild country.

Since I began the blog, it has grown into what it wanted to. I started making crazy French memes, ECards that explain French music lyrics. I have enjoyed translating some rap into Louisiana French, or doing cards on a Louisiana French rapper. I recorded and transcribed snips from the Tasse de Cafe Radio Program. I explored the oxbow woods and the most beautiful house in there; I hope to one day help save this jewel of Louisiana architecture. I started to explore the concept of the Prairie des Femmes, The history of this place being a refuge for women at different times for different reasons, and the mystery of the story of the Women's Indian Camp found here at the Prairie.  Just down the road from me my neighbors had two grottos to the Virgin Mary in their front yard- two Femmes- in the prairie. One day,  I stopped and asked to take a picture, and began a friendship with them. Then I took pictures of all the Mary statues in the Prairie des Femmes, Grand Coteau, Leonville... La Prairie des Femmes was revealing herself as a land whose people still venerate the Virgin Mother unquestioningly. As a balance to the beauty of this divine feminine, I started taking pictures of local car decals, vulgar and tacky slogans local boys emblazon on their mud-encrusted (or clean clean) trucks. I began taking seemingly mundane pictures of what was happening in Prairie at this very moment- a bridge out, a boy on a horse or a bunch of girls on a four wheeler (la prairie des femmes!).  I took pictures of goats and cattle blocking the road, a storm coming across the prairie on les jambes de pluie, the old houses crumbling in the woods or smoke rising from nearby fields. I transcribed wisdom from the neighbor, Chat-Tigre, or recorded the neighbor yelling at his cows in French and the other neighbor just yelling. I recorded gunshots, birdsounds, and the howl of the coyotes at night. I took pictures of the moon, the sunset and foggy sunrise, my children as they grew.

I have to thank my sweet husband on this Feast of the Assumption, for dragging me out here and leaving me to fend for myself in the PDF. I have learned a lot. I also thank the Blessed Mother for always leading me ever closer to God through the wilderness of the Prairie des Femmes.

 

Lawlessness in Evangeline and Saint Landry

  "Evangeline Parish is different...from any other parish in the state of Louisiana. I think we sometimes think that we may be above the law." Monsieur Dossman

Prairie des Femmes 1958

Camp des Hariats

Jim and Hil talk about the old Pig Stand restaurant (RIP!) and how Mister Archange LaFleur cooked a flathead catfish for breakfast to feed the "Trash Pen" customers who came in for breakfast;) Hil was there too one morning, you know, because he was a hariat himself, and couldn't believe that Mister Archange was cooking a flathead catfish for breakfast, not just the internal organs in a sauce like usual. But Mister Archange says, that's what we had, so that's what we're cookin'.

On Archange...
Yes!
He used to call it the Camp des Hariats.
C'était le Camp des Hariats?
Uh huh.
Ha ha Ha!
Et c'est les hariats qui mangait déjeuner.
Oh! Alright!
I got there one morning- Moi j'étais un hariat, you know?
Uh huh...
And you know what he was cookin' for breakfast!?
Uh-uh.
A gou-jon caille!
No kidding! C'était pas juste les fressures alors, c'est un goujon caille.
-pas juste les fressures...
un goujon caille pour déjeuner.
Mais, c'est pas mauvais!
Ohhh! Moi j'crois pas, non!
Il avait un beau crowd là bas..
Oh ouais 'coute c'était tout du monde qu'a- c'avait les bons appetits, ça.
Oh ouais, c'était tout des cadiens! Comme dit Archange.
Les cadiens à pied plat !
but uh...Arcange had a good time at that Pig Stand and Verlain, too, yeah.
Oh.. 'coute!
You could get some good stories outa there.
... that's what they were cookin'
J'ai dit, Mais jamais de la vie! C'est pas des goujons cailles ils après cuire pour déjeuner!
Ouais, il dit, c'est ça on avait, c'est ça on après cuire.

DAGOW!!!!!

Mes Amis mon nom c'est Eddie J. Sainte Marie
Mo Sheriff de la paroisse de Lafourche dans l'état de la Louisiane.
Mo té né et élèvé dans Loreauville dans la paroisse de Ibirie, ça c'est dans l'état de la Louisiane.
Quand mo té gain quatorze ans, mo demenagé à Thibodeaux avec Mom et Pop. Le premier jour quand mo courri à l'école les ti-bougres yé té yé t'après parler français. Mo, mo commencais parler français avec yé. Tout d'ain coup yé commencé ris moi.

Quand école té fini, mo courri côté mom, mo dit mom, quoi faire ti bougre yé rit moi quand mo parlé français? Mom dit moi "Ti-Ed! To pourrais dit moi to courri parler patois là to parle! Mo dis mais Mom! Yé parle pas comme ça? (Yé?) dit moi non! Monde-ça yé parle bon français!
Va-pas to ouvert to la geule encore et parler français ici dan Thibodeaux!

Là mo graduaé. Quand mo graduaé mo commençé travailler avec les State Police. Yé appelle ça des Speed Cop. Là mo courri dans l'armée. Quand yé dechargé moi, y'en dans mos ami qui veni côté moi. Yé dit moi Ste Marie! Nous-autres to lé pour gallop pour sheriff. Mo courri côté Mom: Mo dit Mom: Mo lé galloper pour sheriff. Li dit 'coute: To ka galloper si to lé. Mais mo voulais-to installe toi-même sur un stand et parler pas patois-la que to parle parce que t'aller fait ton mom honte. Mo courri côté tout mos amis, mo dit yé m'aller galloper pour sheriff. Mais, mo pas aller parler français.

 Mos amis yé dit moi; Ste Marie, si to parle pas français c'est pas la peine to gallop, parce que to pas ka gagner. Tout le monde icitte dans la Paroisse Lafourche yé parle tous français. Ça fait, mo commencais. Le premier meeting mo té gain, y'en avait juste vingt-deux persons là. Now mes amis, mo dis à moi même mo pas ka gagner! Mo pas ka fait li! Pas juste avec deux, vingt-deux persons ici à un meeting avec un gros paroisse comme ça. Well, là 'cout ça q'a arrivait: L'autre soir-le, à le soir après moi a eu le meeting-là mes amis, y'en avait cinq-mille persons à mom meeting! Quand mo arrivé là mo dit: qui c'est qu'après parler icitte? Yé dit mais c'est toi Ste Marie!

Mais 'coute! Ouvre pas to la geule et parler l'anglais. Juste parle français. Parce-que monde-ça-yé ont jamais attendait un Cadien parler Cadien la manière toi to parle! Now mes amis, si mon sais parler le jolie français comme vous-autres, mo mêle l'affaire, là mo pas connait ça mo'près dis mo-même. Ça fait, mo parle français comme mo comprend-lui. DAGOW!!!!***

*** This is my first attempt at transcribing Louisiana creole patois, and I am guessing on a lot of the grammar/spelling. If you see any errors, please let me know @ prairiedesfemmes@gmail.com or leave a comment! Merci.



My Freinds, my name is Eddie J. SteMarie.
I am the Sheriff of Lafourche Parish in the state of Louisiana.
I was born and raised in Loreauville in Iberia Parish. That is in the state of Louisiana.

When I was 14 years old, I moved to Thibodeaux (Louisiana) with my Mom and Pop. The first day when I went to school, the little guys there were speaking French. Me, I started speaking in French with them. All of a sudden, they started laughing at me!

 When school was finished, I ran to mom. I said mom, why the little guys, they laughed at me when I spoke French? Mom said to me, "Lil Ed! You can't tell me you went speak the patois you speak! I said well mom, They don't talk like that? She said to me no! People over here speak good French! Don't go and open ya snout again and speak French here in Thibodeaux!

 So, then, I graduated. When I graduated, I started working with the State Police. They call that some Speed Cops. Then I went to the army. When they discharged me, there were some of my friends who came by and they said SteMarie! We want you to run for sheriff! I ran by mama's. I said, Mom, I am gonna run for Sheriff. She said listen, you can run if you want, but I don't want you to put yourself on a stand and speak the way you speak because you are going to embarrass me! I ran to see my friends, I told them I was going to run for sheriff, but I wasn't going to speak French.

My friends said Ste Marie, if you don't speak French, it's not worth it to run, because you can't win. Everyone here in Lafourche Parish speaks French. So, I began. The first meeting I had, there were just twenty two people there! Now my friends, I said to myself, I can't win! I can't do it! Not with just twenty two people at a meeting in a big parish like this! Well, listen what happened: The other night, the night after we had the meeting, there were five thousand people at my meeting! When I got there, I said: Who is it that's speaking here? They said, well it's you SteMarie!

But listen, Don't open yout mouth and speak English! Just speak French, because the people here they have never heard a Cajun speak Cajun the way you speak! Now my friends, if I knew how to speak the pretty French like y'all, I mess the whole thing up until I don't know what I am saying myself! So, I speak French the way that I understand her! DAGOW!!!!!

Pointe Claire Mary Chez les Richard

Evangelium Vitae in Ville Platte

Prayer for Life by Pope

 John Paul II

O Mary, bright dawn of the new world, 

Mother of the living, to you do we entrust the cause of life: 

Look down, O Mother, upon the vast numbers of babies not allowed to be born, 

of the poor whose lives are made difficult, 

of men and women who are victims of brutal violence, 

of the elderly and the sick killed by indifference or out of misguided mercy. 

 Grant that all who believe in your son may proclaim the Gospel of life 

with honesty and love to the people of our time. 

Obtain for them the grace to accept that 

Gospel as a gift ever new, the joy of celebrating it with gratitude throughout their lives, 

and the courage to bear witness to it resolutely, 

in order to build, together with all people of good will, 

the civilization of truth and love, 

to the praise and glory of God, 

the Creator and lover of life.