Excerpt 5

Notre-Dame Cathedral was all lit up, its two majestic towers shining brightly against the nighttime Parisian sky. Elders Lewis and Collins parked their bikes next to a short, wrought iron fence across from the magnificent Catholic edifice. Walking onto Pont au Double (a cast-iron pedestrian bridge) they gazed along the Seine River’s illuminated embankment, searching for their phantom investigator. Not seeing anyone, they turned back and descended some old cement steps to a river’s-edge, cobbled walkway: La Promenade Maurice Carême. Making their way along the picturesque path, scrutinizing every shadow, the earnest elders were beginning to lose hope.

“Just like I thought,” Elder Collins said, “it was a prank. No one’s here. Let’s go.”

“Not so fast, Elder. We’re five minutes early.”

“Okay. But I really don’t think anyone’s coming.” They stopped and looked again, up and down the deserted riverbank, on both sides of the Seine, but not a soul was in sight. It was now nine thirty-five, and Elder Collins again expressed his desire to go home.

“We can go in a few minutes … but let’s give this person the benefit the doubt. I still think the note might be legit.”

Elder Collins glanced up. They were approaching another flight of stairs that ascended to Le Petit Pont (The Little Bridge). “Those must be the steps where we’re supposed to talk.”

“Yeah, that’s gotta be the place. Let’s go over there and sit for a few minutes. We’ll be more visible.” The two missionaries walked up and sat on the top step, looking down at the glittering waterway.

“It’s kinda nice, being here at night! Paris is charming!” Elder Collins was trying to put a positive spin on the situation … and he genuinely meant it. It was peaceful, just sitting there thinking and chatting. He took a deep breath, savoring the fragrance of ubiquitous dried leaves.

“It’s pretty warm for October,” Elder Lewis mused, staring up at Notre-Dame.

“It’s a nice night!” Elder Collins replied, also gazing at the iconic edifice. The cathedral was beautiful, looking down upon them, exhibiting all its glory! “Notre-Dame kind of reminds me of a temple, all lit up at night.”

“Well, it’s not a temple, but it is a holy place. I’ve felt the Spirit in there. I can’t even imagine all the faith and sacrifice it took to build it. I read somewhere that it took a couple hundred years.”

“Yeah, and it took about five years to rebuild it.”

“Do you remember the fire? I guess I was too young at the time to pay much attention to it.”

“Yeah, I remember. That’s all Grandpa could talk about back then. It really devastated him.”

“I’ll bet it did.”

“Just before I left, he talked with me about Paris and all the wonderful things to see here. He loved Notre-Dame.”

“I think anyone who’s ever been here has a special feeling for it.”

“Yeah. So, I guess the first few months of his mission were kind of discouraging. They got lots of doors slammed in their faces, and they didn’t have any serious investigators.”

“That sounds familiar.”

“Doesn’t it?” Elder Collins chuckled. “Anyway, Grandpa had apparently gone a long time without feeling the Spirit. On his first Christmas Eve in Paris, they went to Notre-Dame for Midnight Mass. While he was listening to a boys’ choir, he started looking around at the hundreds of devoted French people worshipping the Savior … and he had a profound spiritual experience. He said he felt their hearts and their souls and their faith. From that point on he never stopped loving the French people, French culture, the French language … everything French. He said it was not only a turning point for his mission, it was a turning point for his life. His testimony never wavered again.”

“Wow! That’s cool. No wonder he was devasted when it burned.”

“Yeah.” Both missionaries were quiet for a minute; then Elder Collins said, “I’ve felt the Spirit in there, too.”

“There’ve been lots of prayers in there, lots of sincere worshipping.”

“That reminds me. Grandpa said that while it was burning, the streets around here were filled with French people singing hymns and praying together, mourning their loss, all night long. He said he felt that same profound Spirit all over again, watching it on TV.”

“This really is sacred ground. It’s a place where people come to be with the Lord. In that sense, it’s like a temple.”

“The interesting thing is all the good that came from the fire. Grandpa said that within a week close to a billion euros had been donated to help restore it. And the contributions didn’t just come from rich people; they came from millions of average people, from all over France, all over the world … five euros, ten euros at a time. Everyone came together, and now look at it over there! It’s a wonderful symbol of faith and brotherhood and unity. It’s the tender heart of France!”

“And now it has even more meaning,” Elder Lewis said. “Modern-day people sacrificed to bring it to life again, so I’ll bet they love it even more than they did before the fire.”

“Yeah. I’m sure they do.” Elder Collins was struck with the remarkable realization that much good can come from tragedy and heartache. “Maybe that’s why God doesn’t always answer our prayers the way we’d like,” he said. “He just has a wider perspective than we do.”

“You mean, He allows hard things to happen, knowing that in the end much good will come from it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinkin’. Interesting, isn’t it.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Grandpa said Notre-Dame is more structurally sound now. And it has updated electrical systems, new plumbing, fire sprinklers, and firewalls … everything’s polished and clean. I mean, it’s good for another eight hundred years! Lots of good has come from that fire.”

“I hear Bourges is a really picturesque, medieval city. They even have an amazing cathedral there … but I bet you’re going to miss Paris.”

“Yes, I certainly will! This is a nice way to say goodbye, though. I’m glad we came.” Elder Collins pulled out his phone and took some pictures of the glowing cathedral and the sparkling Seine. “I love it here!” He held up his phone in ‘selfie’ mode and they both leaned in, smiling; the memory of a serene autumn evening in Paris, overlooking the Seine, with a stunning view of Notre-Dame de Paris, had been preserved ….

A few minutes later Elder Lewis shrugged. “Well  … I think we’ve been stood up. Looks like you were right. Thanks for being a good sport!”

“Hey, it’s okay. Like I said, I’ve been lovin’ it!”

“Yeah, me  …” Elder Lewis abruptly arched his back, grabbed his neck, and slumped forward.

“What the  …” Elder Collins seized his companion and looked back … just in time to see a dark figure holding a gun and wearing a ski mask. He felt a stabbing pain on the side of his neck and another on his shoulder. A bolt of fear passed through him like electricity. He was dizzy and weak and ….