One year, in the early 1700’s, St. Louis de Monfort decided to make a visit to the shrine of Blessed Alan de la Roche. He had a particular devotion to this blessed because Alan de la Roche had been a special instrument of Heaven in the revival of devotion to the Rosary. Having a great love for the Blessed Virgin Mary himself, St. Louis de Montfort was very devoted to Her Most Holy Rosary and was therefore very eager to visit the shrine of Bl. Alan de la Roche.

Traveling with Louis was a young man who became the first monk in the religious order Louis founded. His name was Brother Mathurin. As they journeyed to the shrine, Louis shared his excitement at the hope of being able to offer the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass there. He also spoke of his happy anticipation of visiting with his younger brother, Joseph, who was a monk in the Dominican monastery that was connected with the shrine. Mathurin was quite eager to meet a sibling of the priest he admired so much. He happily shared Louis’ excitement…until he learned that Louis wanted his identity kept a secret!

Poor Mathurin was not at all pleased with the idea, and said as much to his friend. He protested that if the monks did not know who Louis was, he would not receive the attentions he deserved. But Louis only smiled at his friend’s worries. He explained to Mathurin that he wished it to be that way, because then whatever charity they received would be given to them solely for the love of God alone, not through any prejudice or favoritism toward them personally.

With great reluctance, Mathurin agreed to hide the identity of his spiritual father, and the pair reached the shrine soon after, dressed in the dusty, shabby clothes they had worn during their journey. Louis went first to the chapel, and prayed before the shrine’s beautiful altar. Then he entered the sacristy in which a Dominican was busily at work.

"Brother," Louis began kindly, "would it be all right if I offered Mass here?"

The monk flashed an annoyed look at Louis, then turned back to his work, muttering over his shoulder, "I suppose you can." He gathered up two little candle stubs, some old worn vestments, and a pair of plain cruets, the little pitchers that hold the water and wine used during the Mass. All these the monk placed before Louis.

"Do you need someone to serve your Mass?" He asked, his tone strongly indicating that he hoped he would not need to be that "someone."

"Oh, no," Louis smiled, "my companion will serve for me."

That was the end of the conversation; for Louis gathered up what the monk had provided for his Mass, and the monk went back to caring for the sacristy. When the Mass was ended and Louis was making the customary thanksgiving, Mathurin, who was also praying in the chapel, happened to glance toward the door to the sacristy and saw the Dominican beckoning him to come to him. Somewhat uneasy, Mathurin obeyed, and once he was in the sacristy, the monk got right to the point.

"Exactly who is that priest you’re traveling with?" He asked Mathurin. "I feel like I might have seen him before."

Poor Mathurin was both bewildered and slightly frustrated. All along the journey not one person had asked about either of them. But now that they had arrived at the one place where Louis did not want to be known, of course this monk would suddenly have a desire to find out who Louis was!

"Well, brother, he’s a very holy priest who – " Mathurin was not able to finish his sly, vague answer - for the Dominican interrupted him.

"I am not a ‘brother’!" He snapped angrily. "I am a priest. Lay brothers wear black scapulars over their habits, but the priests wear white ones." He held up his scapular for Mathurin to see that it was, in fact, white. "You’re supposed to call me ‘father,’ and kindly tell that to whoever your friend is." He ended, letting the scapular fall back down. "It’s very annoying to be addressed by the wrong title."

"Oh, I am sorry." Mathurin apologized. "We meant no harm, father. But we didn’t know about the difference in the habits. I know this is the first time I have heard about that."

"Well, don’t forget it." The priest mumbled. "I’ll forgive you both this once if it doesn’t happen again."

"It won’t. I promise, father." Mathurin said, smiling politely as he ducked back out of the sacristy door before the Dominican could say anything more.

Later that day, Louis sent Mathurin into town on an errand. While making his way through the town, Mathurin accidentally bumped into someone. He almost fell, but the person caught him. When Mathurin looked up to say his thanks, he was startled to discover that he had bumped into the priest from the sacristy!

"You should try to be more careful." He advised Mathurin.

"Yes, I will." Mathurin answered and made to leave, but the Dominican wouldn’t let him go.

"Wait, lad." He said. "You never told me who that priest friend of yours is. He’s been haunting me all morning, and I can’t get him out of my mind."

Mathurin hesitated and stammered as he tried to pull away from the priest, but it was no good. The priest simply would not let him go until he gave him an answer. At last, Mathurin could get around it no more.

"He’s Louis Marie Grignon, but he changed his name to Louis Marie de Monfort!" Poor Mathurin blurted out. "And he didn’t want me to tell anyone that!"

A dazed look was the silent answer to Mathurin’s statement. But before Mathurin had time to wonder whether or not the priest believed him, the priest gasped.

"That’s it!" He cried, gently clutching Mathurin tighter. "That’s why he called me ‘brother’! I’m his younger brother Joseph. That’s why he looked so familiar." His face suddenly fell. "Oh, what have I done? He called me ‘brother’ and because I became annoyed at that, I gave him the poorest and plainest things to use for his Mass. I must go and apologize to him."

Of course, Louis forgave his younger brother’s impatience and unkindness, while gently admonishing him against responding in such a way to others in the future. Fr. Joseph accepted the advice humbly, and then brought out two tall waxen candles, the finest vestments, and lovely polished cruets for his brother to use for his next Mass. He even set out to gather a few flowers for the altar.

Once Fr. Joseph had left the sacristy, Mathurin, immensely relieved at how well everything had turned out, glanced over to Louis. At first he thought the faint red on his friend’s cheeks were the effects of a blush. But then he noticed the Saint’s shoulders were gently shaking and realized that Louis was quietly laughing.