Béziers May 4th, 2025
May 4, 1851. When I opened my eyes that morning, I felt my heart beat faster. The sun was still rising and the chapel of the Good Shepherd was waiting for the moment that would change our lives. It was the day of our profession, the day when, in front of God and the Church, we would take a definitive step in our commitment. I felt a mixture of joy and fear. I asked myself: are we ready? Are we up to God’s call?
The city of Béziers already knew what was going to happen. The bishop, Mgr. Charles Thibault, made a point of announcing in the newspapers that he was coming to preside over the ceremony. For me, this meant more than an official gesture: it was a public testimony that our work was true, that our mission was from God. Even so, it wasn’t possible to ignore what we had faced up to that point. The rumors, the mistrust, the accusations… But that day, I just wanted to trust.
When we entered the chapel, I felt the weight of the moment. Ten of us were there, about to take our vows. I looked at my sisters and saw in their eyes the same emotion that pulsed through me. Some looked nervous, others smiled discreetly. Among us was Mother Saint-Félix, so young at only nineteen. She was not yet of official age to profess, but her burning desire to give herself to God was overflowing. When I heard that the bishop had admitted her, I saw her face light up with gratitude. How beautiful it was to see a soul so young and so determined!
During the ceremony, when we knelt to make our vows, I felt a deep peace envelop me. My voice trembled, but my soul was firm. As I pronounced the words of my consecration, I gave myself completely. At that moment, I realized that God wasn’t calling us because we were strong or because we never doubted, but because our trust in him was infinite.
In his homily, the bishop looked directly at me and spoke of my dedication and renunciation. He praised Father Gailhac and defended our mission with firm words. I listened to him in silence, but something was stirring inside me. It wasn’t easy to ignore the criticism, it wasn’t simple to keep going when many doubted. But there it was, proof that God was leading our work.
When we signed the minutes of the profession, I looked at my hand and realized the responsibility of that gesture. Not out of fear, but because of the grandeur of the moment. It was like sealing, with ink and paper, something that was already imprinted on our soul. With each signature, it was as if we were saying: “Yes, Lord, here we are.”
At the end of the ceremony, as people looked at us, some with admiration, others perhaps with doubts, I knew that our journey would not be easy. But inside me, there was an unshakeable certainty: the Good Shepherd would guide us. The work that was being born there was not ours, it was His!
I remember a letter from Father Gailhac in which he called me: “daughter of Abraham”. At the time, I didn’t understand the depth of those words, but today, 176 years later, his expression makes perfect sense. I never imagined that the vision, zeal and faith we pledged at the altar of the Chapel of the Good Shepherd would have an impact on five continents. My sisters, present in France, Ireland, Portugal, the United Kingdom, Brazil, the United States, Mexico, Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Zambia, East Timor and Angola, continue today to make God known and loved, remaining faithful to our original vocation: to promote life with dignity for all the oppressed, especially women and children.
When I think back to that day, my heart is filled with gratitude. The journey was not without its challenges, but every step was worth it. Our Congregation has grown, crossed borders and reached so many hearts. And it all began there, in that little chapel, with those first sisters, with that “yes” that echoed through time and eternity.
We continue to move forward, with the same spirit and the same faith. And, as on that May 4, 1851, we continue to trust that the Good Shepherd walks with us in today’s world.
P.S – This text was inspired by two RSHM from different generations, with the intention of sharing, in a creative and imagined way, the day of the first profession of the 1st community, witnessed by Mother Saint-Jean.
May we always remember these first steps with gratitude and hope, so that the witness of our consecrated life may live on in each new generation.
