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“The One Who Wanted to See a Miracle
Became the One Miraculously Cured...” (Suzanne Labrecque)


Bristol, June 12, 2005

Dear Marie-Paule,

I have finally been able to set down on paper what I had promised you. The climb to Calvary, I think we walked it; death, we saw and lived it in our souls, and we have witnessed a “resurrection”. It was very hard, but with the “invincible strength” that we speak of in the consecration, God gave us the necessary support to get through the storm.

We have regained our senses somewhat, but we are still a little stunned whenever we think of it. We have much to give thanks for, for this “miracle” which has shaken many members of the family and those around us. My God, thanks again.

Suzanne Labrecque

Jean-Louis Labrecque

Jean-Louis Labrecque

Suzanne Labrecque

Suzanne Labrecque

Here is an account of our story.

I have been in the Army of Mary since 1979. I was never influenced by anyone in making my choice. I had asked a favor of Mother Mary and promised to become a member of her Work. Since I was granted the favor requested, with Marian proof, well then, all that remained for me to do was to obtain the necessary information to be able to join the Work and follow it to the best of my ability, according to my possibilities.

The family was initiated to the movement, with the exception of my husband. He would participate in the Mass celebrations, but, as far as he was concerned, the rest was an exaggeration; God did not expect so much. I did my best to bring him to understand, but with the bad rumors he heard everywhere and especially in Canada, I was always coming up against a closed door, until I told him one day: “Someday, you will understand.”

For a few years now he has been saying the consecration to Mary every day along with the recitation of the rosary. He often said to me: “I want to see a miracle in Guy’s condition and then I will believe in this story of the Army of Mary.” Our son Guy has suffered from muscular dystrophy for fourteen years. For eight months now, he has been a resident of a extended care home here in Bristol because his condition has become too difficult for us to be able to care for him at home.

On March 17, my husband, Jean-Louis, a plumber well-known in Bristol and the surrounding districts, was taken to hospital by ambulance because he had difficulty breathing. He was admitted and diagnosed with pneumonia, although all kinds of tests never substantiated that diagnosis. He was discharged on March 24, and readmitted on March 26. His condition having worsened, he was transferred to intensive care on March 31. He was dying and no one knew why.

During the night, a telephone call at 11:00 p.m. informed us that he was now hooked up to a respirator. The next morning, Saturday, April 2, the doctor called the family in because we had to take a decision. Since we knew that being on a respirator was not what he would have wanted, we decided to let him die peacefully with morphine. All that was left for us to do was pray and say our final goodbyes.

The fact that we had spent many nights with Jean-Louis had exhausted us to such a point that we thought of simply going home to wait for the news of his death. Shortly before leaving him, we had the surprise visit of a priest we knew; his visit was like that of an angel sent from heaven. Once again, my husband received the sacrament of the sick and the family joined in for the final prayers. That was a great comfort to us.

Between 2:30 and 3:00 p.m., my husband was taken off the respirator and he began receiving morphine to ease his pain. I went to the waiting room and that was when I heard the news on television of Pope John Paul II’s death which occurred at 9:37 p.m. in Rome. It was 2:37 p.m. local time.

Since the doctor had informed us that Jean-Louis would probably pass away shortly after midnight, on Sunday morning, April 3, we were waiting for a call from the hospital to confirm his death. However, our youngest daughter had decided to go back to see her father for one last time. Having arrived at the hospital, she met a couple, friends of ours, who were already there and waiting for permission to go to see him. So the three of them would be present to witness what was about to happen.

Once at her father’s bedside, she touched his hand and he reacted at the same time with a slight squeeze of the hand, which surprised her. In turn, the other two people witnessed the same thing. So my daughter asked the nurse if such a reaction was normal. The answer was somewhat negative: “It’s possible that someone could react that way.”After a few minutes, they noticed that the sick person was beginning to react more visibly. So I was called in. In turn, he also squeezed my hand. To my question, “Do you recognize me?” he replied, “Yes, yes.” Then, he tried to sit up in his bed, his eyes opened, etc. The nurse had called the doctor who arrived quite disconcerted. He asked us to leave the room so that he could examine him. After a few minutes the doctor came to join us in the waiting room, and he collapsed into a chair. Raising his hands he said, “You had a direct line with heaven; there is no other explanation.”

So the other members of the family were informed; they all came to join us and you can just imagine what followed. He was already the miracle one of the Bristol hospital and the story was spreading.

A few days later, I gave him the details of what had been prepared for him for his last remaining hours in this world.

The picture of the Lady of All Peoples had been placed on the wall next to his bed. I never asked that he be cured, but only that She take care of him. I had Marie-Paule’s picture. I had him kiss my miraculous medal because his had been taken away from him for medical reasons. Then I said the prayers of Divine Mercy for the dying which I knew, etc. And I added: “You know, this was a miracle through the intercession of the Lady of All Peoples.” He replied: “Yes, I know.”

He told me that in his coma, he was in a large room where everything was white, and all he could see was Pope John Paul II going ahead of him. Suddenly he disappeared.

Since that day, I have been asking myself the question: “What did God want to make him understand or make us understand?” Today, the one who wanted to see a miracle has become the one miraculously cured, and our son is fighting more than ever against depression. And so it seems to me that there is something incomprehensible in all of that, but what is?

In thanksgiving we went to Spiri-Maria for the ceremony of the Lady of All Peoples, for a short visit, for Mass and a short part of the ceremony, from 10 o’clock to noon, approximately, since my husband’s condition did not allow us to stay any longer. The trip, the day before, had been long enough; we had left Bristol and driven to our cabin at Courcelles, a seven and a half-hour drive. On Sunday, we still had an hour and a half drive to go to Lac-Etchemin. That was already quite a feat for his first trip after his discharge from hospital. We will come up again later, with the entire family, if possible, including my son.

Thank you to the Lady of All Peoples for having interceded for us.

O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.

To all of you, parents and friends, and especially to you at the Center Spiri-Maria, who supported us through your prayers and Masses, a most heartfelt thanks.

Suzanne and Jean-Louis Labrecque
Bristol, Connecticut, U.S.A.