The gift of friendship

Memories of Fr. Pierre Richard

By Glenn Harty
December 2007

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The opportunity to befriend Fr. Pierre Richard, or more likely, Fr. Pierre’s befriending me, was purely a gift.

Anne and Glenn Harty with their friend Fr. Pierre Richard, a friendship formed during their stay at Scarboro Mission for the four-month mission preparation program. They are now missioned to Thailand.

The slight, non-assuming gentleman always seated himself early at the first table in the dining room. I say non-assuming not non-aware for I don’t believe there was a visitor or a movement in the dining room of which Pierre was not aware. As I walked past his table to get a glass of water at meal times, Pierre would always acknowledge my presence, unless of course he was consumed in conversation with another. He had that way of making others feel special.

One habit Pierre and I had in common was that we would often wake up during the night, somewhere between 11:00 p.m. and 3:00 a.m., with a case of the munchies. On several occasions we would meet in the dining room, hair all messed, clothes mismatched, but with a smile and a greeting for one another. Perhaps we would have some cereal, or a piece of toast, or a glass of orange juice. Our pre-breakfast snack we called it. Pierre liked to mix his orange juice with a bit of apple juice. Our conversation would be minimal, but a friend’s companionship was all we needed.

We would usually meet on Saturday afternoons as well—one of the times Pierre liked to do his laundry. The laundry room he chose to use was next to the apartment suite my wife and I occupied at Scarboro’s central house during our four-month preparation for mission. I can’t remember why he said he liked that laundry room, but I like to think it was because he and I would likely meet each other there. One of the nicest things about a conversation with Pierre was that it was never serious and at times I found it quite difficult if not impossible to keep up to his wit. Oh my, I laughed a lot when I was with Pierre.

In his later years when I knew him, Pierre struggled with ill health, but he was thankful to be still alive, “happy to be on this side of the grass,” he used to say. Maybe that’s why he had such a keen interest when I was preparing some ground on the property to receive new sod. He liked to do his rounds around the building with his walker and would inspect my work. I called him the Superintendent of Landscape Maintenance, relying on his approval that my work was being done correctly, and again we would laugh.

Before placing the order for the sod, I researched many suppliers and was confident we had received the best sod for the best price, Pierre was happy. However, between my Scottish traits and stingy measurements I did not order enough to complete the job and the sod company would not deliver the additional small amount needed. With permission, I borrowed the Scarboro truck to pick up my order, but needed a co-pilot. Who better than the Superintendent?

It was then that my love and respect for Pierre blossomed even more. Once we drove off the Scarboro grounds I got a play-by-play of the different areas we drove through and the many buildings we passed. Pierre knew them all and helped guide me to our destination about two hours north of Toronto. Along the way we stopped for gas and when I got back into the car there was no sign of Pierre. Soon he showed up with two bottles of water for our journey. Amazed, I asked Pierre how he got out of the vehicle, as it was a high four-wheel drive truck. In his French accent, he said, “I just slowly slipped down over the edge.” Needless to say, he could not climb back into his seat without the help of an empty milk carton that we found in the back of the truck.

Because food had always played an important part in our relationship, it was only fitting that we were able to go out for lunch after loading up the turf. We both had a full meal complete with soup and a little dessert. We broke bread together.

And we shared in the meal of the Eucharist. On the occasions when I sat in front of Pierre during morning Mass with the Scarboro community, it was not an easy task to keep a straight face, especially when I heard the loud purr coming from behind me and knew that he had fallen asleep. Pierre would never miss morning Mass but the amount he was present was often questionable. If ever I asked him about it, his standard answer was, “Oh no! I was deep in prayer.”

Some night when next I’m at Scarboro’s central house, I will once again find my way to the dining room, hair awry and looking for a piece of toast. And my friend will be sitting at his usual table next to the door. I will not see him but I know he will be there. We will sit in silence as so often before, just enjoying each other’s company and the occasional laugh.

Scarboro missionary Fr. Pierre Richard passed away on February 10, 2007, after 51 years of priesthood served in the Philippines, the Dominican Republic and in Canada. He also had a long history of service as chaplain with the Canadian Armed Forces.

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