Michel and Mary are the parents of five children. Igor, one of them, lives with severe intellectual disability. Both are actors by profession. Together, they created a theater piece called "Igor's Country," inspired by their own story. As they looked back on their lives, they came to see Igor's arrival as a "journey into the unexpected"—and recognized how God, with great gentleness, had prepared them for this adventure.
Michel
Mary, my wife, is English, born into an Irish Catholic family. Her parents encouraged her to travel and open herself to the world. That's how she discovered Taizé, where she first truly understood that Jesus had risen. It was a turning point in her life.
Her parents were actors, and she decided to study theater in Paris, where she learned to bring stories to the stage. That's where we met.
Mary
Yes, I remember a friend describing Michel to me: "He's an original sort of person, but I think you'll like each other." I got to know him gradually. Like me, he came from a large family that valued freedom and independence. He often spoke of "challenge." As a young man, he was a mountain climber.
He was an explorer of sorts—so much so that he even left the Church for a time, to observe it from the outside. He reached out to others, left his studies to work with an organization serving the Fourth World. After a series of encounters, hungry for coherence, he found a faith that was renewed and strengthened.
Michel
We married in 1979. Discovering our shared faith felt like a sign, and the marriage itself was an act of grace. Mary began performing in clown theater pieces. This led her to ask: for whom do I want to perform? Together, we decided to bring theater to the poorest. For eight years we performed with the "Théâtre de l'Oiseau," a traveling troupe of ATD (Aide à Toute Détresse—Help for All in Need), and during those years our first three children were born. Through ATD we learned about a world of the excluded, we came to love them, we tried to decipher their message. But we were still standing on the side of the strong. Then disability erupted into our lives.
Mary
Igor was born in 1986. I'm certain God did not will that we have a disabled child, but I believe He used Igor to lead us on a path toward weakness—and thus toward Him. Igor was a hypotonic baby, but during his first year, we couldn't tell whether he had difficulties or not. That year was hard—living day after day in permanent doubt. When we finally understood his intellectual disability, we crossed "to the other side of the barrier." It's one thing to go toward "the poor," and quite another to accept that your own child is "poor" and to become "poor" with him.
Michel
Our neighbors didn't know how to treat us. Many tried to act as if nothing was wrong: "You'll see, he'll get better!" They denied the suffering. They even avoided us with their eyes.
Igor's disability frightened them.
Mary
Our wandering life didn't fit well with this small being whose future was unknown. We moved into a spiritual retreat center that offered a rhythm of life and prayer that nourished us and helped us put down roots. One day, during communal prayer, I became certain that I could have another child without problems. A joy that surpassed everything, and I knew its source. Gabriel, our fifth child, born after Igor, is a lively and beautiful boy.
Mary and Michel in their performance. "What will we do with this son? But it's clear: we will love him!"
Mary and Michel in their performance. "What will we do with this son? But it's clear: we will love him!"Michel
At the same time, our calling became clearer, more demanding. We wanted to express our hope more explicitly. ATD, being non-denominational, couldn't allow that. A rehabilitation center near Chambéry could take Igor. So we bought an old farmhouse nearby, with the idea of creating our own theater pieces on evangelical themes—and of living from them. Mary developed "Berta Throws Herself into the Water," a contemporary retelling of the story of the Samaritan woman. Who would that woman be today? This question led her to reflect on how the world sees us, and how Jesus looks at us.
Mary
Yes, I saw that Jesus's gaze liberated. He saw that woman—who was neither beautiful nor happy in the world's eyes—as someone called to be beautiful, happy, free. He sees with wonder what love will do to transform her. His gaze goes so far beyond the gaze of a human who stops at appearance and prejudice! And here is God's surprise. He does things backwards. He chose this woman, completely excluded from society—but to bring forth a greater life from her.
He seeks out the smallest to speak of the greatest.
Michel
So the idea of seeing, of being seen, became a central theme of our piece about Igor. Igor has a genetic condition: he's missing a small piece of chromosome 14. He began walking very late, and even now, at nine years old, he has never spoken a clear word. He's invented his own language of breath sounds and repetitive gestures that, depending on how fast he makes them, reveal his different moods. He is very affectionate and breaks through every social barrier. Just days ago, at Mass, there were prisoners surrounded by guards. No one dared sit near them. Igor climbed into one of the prisoners' lap. I watched aggression transform into tenderness and love. We did everything we could to heal Igor, then to find him the right place. Someone told us a psychiatrist had said: "Igor needs to come here. You must break the bond between mother and child."
Mary
Yet, imperfect as it is, it's precisely this loving relationship that helps him grow. Everything he's learned has happened at home—not because the center he attends doesn't care for him, but because Igor seems to understand only through the love surrounding him, in a person-to-person relationship.
Little Igor, son of Michel and Mary, around whom the performance "Igor's Country" is built.
For the past four years, Igor has attended his rehabilitation center and comes home each evening. That's his great good fortune. I want to say his three siblings are fortunate too.Little Igor, son of Michel and Mary, around whom the performance "Igor's Country" is built.Michel
They learn that life isn't only about success or efficiency—that, in fact, the eyes of the weak often show us what's essential. Igor is like an error in a calculation; he is, therefore, life itself. It's true that it's harder for us to go out as a whole family. I remember a hot day on a lake shore last year. It was crowded. When people on the beach caught sight of Igor, everyone suddenly stopped. I planted the umbrella, but my son Mikael said: "Let's go!" It was a command. We packed up. In the car, Mikael said: "I want to shout at all those people. Have they never seen a disabled person?"
It mattered to me that I could hear Mikael's cry, and then talk with him about it. The good moments sustain us through the hard ones. One year we rented a donkey for Igor, so mountain walks with him became possible again. I also think of the country priest who invited us to prepare for Igor's First Communion alongside the other children his age.
Mary
Igor stood near the rectory door. His repetitive breathing, his arms flapping with excitement like a bird trying to take flight, said in their own way that he belonged there with us. The other children arrived and surrounded him with attention. They even fought over who would accompany him down the church aisle.
I thought people in the village might make remarks, but no one said a word. Igor receives Communion every Sunday. He knows he is surrounded by affection, and he tells us—with both arms outstretched toward the priest—how loved he is by God. I bless the Lord for that community, where for once in his life Igor wasn't put in a separate group but placed among everyone, simply. And it was fitting that the Church showed the way.
Michel
We were shaken by everything Igor was teaching us. Meanwhile, Mary began writing a new theatrical work. She felt the Spirit pushing her to put Igor at the center of this next creation: we needed to find a way to express what we were living with Igor—to reach those living as we do, and others who struggle to understand.
Mary
It took two years to find the right tone. We had to adapt the story, find distance between our life and the performance through theatrical language that would leave the audience free to make it their own. The first performance of "Igor's Country" took place two years ago. Since then, we've performed it about a hundred times. The heart of our story is the meaning of a life so little productive. Igor is someone who will never be great. Small in stature, small in intellect—what is his gift? How does the world react to the weak? What does this weak person have to say to the world? From all of this, we built the performance.
With this performance we wanted to say that every being, however fragile, is precious; that the most fragile has a message for the strong...
With this performance we wanted to say that every being, however fragile, is precious; that the most fragile has a message for the strong...Michel
Yokas and Estelline, two explorers, crash in the desert when their plane's engine fails. Before they can leave, they find a package containing an abandoned baby. Estelline wants to take him with them; Yokas refuses. After quarrels and reconciliations, the child is adopted—and that's where everything begins.
Fundamentally, we tell a love story: the story of a couple who manage to unite around a child, despite the suffering. We often perform this piece in schools. But we also meet resistance. Some administrators have said: "This isn't a story for children."
Mary
But listen to the conversations after the performance, or read the letters children write to Igor: "Even though you're disabled, don't lose hope. One day you'll be like the others. You'll speak. You'll walk." I hear the voice of Isaiah: "Then the eyes of the blind will be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. Then the lame will leap like a deer, and the mute tongue will shout for joy."
Michel
If children who see the performance choose to stay and talk with us for an hour afterward, it means we've touched on themes that matter to them: difference, yes, but also the importance of parental love, the fear of abandonment, the fundamental cry of every human being: "Do you love me?"
Children today have few chances to reflect on this essential question. One child told me: "It wasn't the doctors who healed him. It was the love between you." Love transforms.
Mary
With this performance we wanted to say that every being, however fragile, is precious; that the most fragile has a message for the strong, because God dwells in his fragility "so that his glory may be revealed." That is how our Igor is God's surprise. I desire only one thing: that He continue to astonish us.
- Michel and Mary Vienot, 1997