NAOMI MARIA

New Zealand Tablet, 30 August 1906, Page 3

NAOMI MARIA

(Concluded from last week.) The little chapel was filled to overflowing ; for Naomi had made many friends, and others were 'drawn hither by curiosity regarding her strange conversion. They waited anxiously, fearing disappointment ; but at the appointed hour Naomi followed the priest into the church. Madame Claire's two little daughters, Lisa and Anna, dressed in white and bpa-iing lighted tapers, led her toward the altar, the Sisters following in procession. The girl was almost fainting with weakness ; her face was whiter than the while dress she wore, but in her dark eyes burned the fire of a great resolve • and, wasted as she was with illness, there was in Naomi's face that day a beauty which, perhaps, it had never before possessed— the beauty reflected by the triumph of s;oul over body— the beauty written bly-suf-fering nobly borne. To the questions asked of her in the name of the Catholic Church, haoini answered with an energy which •surprised all who listened ; it seemed as if the last flicker of her life's strength was put into that vehement ' 1 desire Baptism. 1 The onLookeib wailed bieathless, find through the hushed stil-ineso of the chapel lose Father lsidor's voice : 1 1 baptize thee, Naomi Maiia, in the name of the FUher, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. 1 It was done: the cleansing wateis had flowed -over Miat fail head, and Naomi stood there in the unsullied innocence of infancy, a child of God, purj and unui tiled, fit in that moment to enter ev?n into the presence of tin- King. It was a scene to touch all present— a scene to Wreak clown even the long-taught self-control which is the duty of the priest, and tears rose to the good Father's eyes. For if men tremble before the innocence of childhood, what must it be, to those who know (Jod, to look into the t>oul of another and 'see llicie naught but His image ! Many a time in the years of his ministiy had the puest looked, untouched, upon hoaiy sinneis broken with repentance ; many a time had he seen, unmoved, tender women's tears washing the feet of the Cmcified ; but the thought of this child whom he had clotlied in the spotless robe of innocence stared his heai.t to its depths. Who was he that his hand should have been chosen to plant this lily in the garden of the Master V 'Ma petite, you aie tiled ! You must go back to bed.' It was Madame Claire who spoke, her arm round Naomi, in the loom where Mie fiiends had assembled after the ceremony. ' No, lam not tired— at least I feel nothing. It seems to me as if my body did not belong to me any moie. Come to the window, and let us look out over the mountains.' ' They are beautiful to-day. See how the light catches the white peaks against the blue ! ' ' Oh, the ligM, the light ! How beautiful it is ! ' said Naomi. 'it seems to me to-day that I have been blind all my life, and that only now I see My whole soul seems full of light. It is Like passing fiom night to day. And the joy is so great ! ' ' God has been so good to you ! ' was all that Madame Claire could say. 'So g-ood I can't understand it. It is all too gieat.' ' It seems to me,' said Madame Claire, ' that we who have always believed do not know what faith is.I think that if one could lose one's faith Avithout sin, it would be worth while in order to understand a little what faith is-.' ' I can't think how I lived without it,' answered Naomi ; ' nor how I could have been happy in my foolish thoughts and speculations. All that I ever thought, felt, learned, seems to me, in the light of today, such utter emptiness and folly.' 1 Poor little Naomi ! ' answered Madame. l And all your grand philosophy ! ' The girl laughed. 'It may have bpen of some, use, after all. It ■helped me to live up to my ideals. And I suppose when we are faithful to our conscience it opens the door to 'higher things— though how God could have had such mercy on me I ca,n never understand.* ' Come, dearie ! You must really rest. If you are worse, I shall blame myself for letting you get up.' ' What does it matter— what does anything matter after to-day ? It can be but of small importance whether I find God here— or there.'

As she spoke her eyes sought the distance, and a strange light illumined her face. * ' The morning has seemed so long waiting for you Lisa ! But now^you have come at last. 1 Lisa Claire, in the white veil and dress of a First Communicant, knelt by Naomi's bed. She pressed Naomi's thin hand against Iver own soft- little cheek. ' It is so hard to talk about, but I am so happy ! ' ' I know, dearie ! I have felt it— you remember last Thursday ? ' 1 I can never forget Thursday or to-day, Naomi. I am so glad mother let me come that morning when you made your First Communion. I seemed to understand then, for the first time, what it really me^nt, and since 1 have been a.ble to think of nothing but that I was so soon to have the same happiness.' 4 And you have it to-day, darling ! ' said 'Naomi as she drew the child to her and kissed her. ' Yes, I am sure I shall never be so happy ag^,in. But tell me, Naomi— you are big and understand things —•shall we ever have such lovely days again ? ' ' I don't know, Lisel. I have had, oh, such happy days in my life, but none of them were like the day of my baptism on last Thursday.' * ' You looked so happy that morning, Naomi. Orrly God CQuld make anyone look so bappy. Everyone was afraid to come near you ; it seemed wrong to disturb your joy. Mother said she would have soon have talked to 'an angel out of heaven.' 1 Don't talk nonsense, Lisel ! But I was as happy as if I had been in heaven. I could th-ink of jiothing in this world— not even of mother.' ' And the pains— did you forget your pains too, Naomi ? ' ' One cannot feel pains when one has such joy in one's heart ; and if one did feel them, one would want to have pains always, for the love of Him ' ' I think I should almost ]ike to have your pains Naomi, you seem so to know Jesus.' ' ' Pain is such a little price to pay for learning to know God better,' replied the sick girl and a strange light lit up her beautiful dark eyes 'Some day you will understand that, Lisa.' ' I think God has made ycu ever so good in a S ort .. time » Naomi. I wish 'tie would make me good like that. The Sisteis and eveiyone say that you are a little saint.' ' Hush, Lisa ! Don't say that. It's not right If I am not so bad as I used to .be, it is because my whole nature is somehow changed—' 'I am sure that >ou were always good,' interrupted the child. 'No one could have played such beautiful music unless she was good ' The girl smiled. 'I have almost forgotten about my music now But no, Lisa, I was not good. I was proud ami wiltui, and how I pained mamma by my impatience in the beginning of my illness ! Poor 'mamma! she wofald not know me now. Lisa,' she added after a pause, 'I have offered my life for mother. You will pray always Ihat she may find what I have found ?' Yes, I shall pray for her always,' the child answered. But, Mimmy, don't think it's fair I*at you should go to heaven and see Jesus, while I must wa-it perhaps over so long.' ' But you can possess Him without seeing Him Were you not as happy this morning as if you bad been in heaven ? And, then, you have all your life to work for God, Lisel.' ' But, Mimmy,' the child went on, and the tears welled up in her blue eyes, ' you mustn't die, you mustn tgo away. We love you too much. You must stay with us always.' 'If I lived, Lisel, I should try to bfe a nun. I couldn t stay in the world any longer. I could never rest unless I gave myself wholly to God. T don't know what has come over me, Lisa, but it seems to me sometimes that I can feel nothing more in my body or in my soul but a great longing after God.' Naomi's longing was soon to see it's fulfilment. c*e ttrew weaker day by day; and those who watched her were filled with pity, seeing how great her sufferings became. But the girl herself never complained. Through the long sleepless nights she was - never heard to murmur ; she even refused the sleeping draughts which might have brought some respite to her pain. * I would rath-er suffer a little for God ttefore I die,' was all that she would answer; or with her eyes upon the crucifix : ' Why should I not suffer a little with Him ? ' Those who watched her dimly guessed her secret. * atner lsidoc knew it. It was the secret of the saints^ the love of Jesus Christ, which had swept from her heart every other love, and burned up in hex the last traces of egoism. The time had been short, but

the -work had been perfect. Naomi had died to herself, she lived to God. Her heart, was too nobie to rest in any other love than that which asks but to suffer for the beloved ; and she rejoiced that it was /given to her to dri,nk during those last, d&ys from the bitter chalice which has ever been the portion of God s- favored ones. And so the end came, just a fortnight after her baptism. Those who Watched her were so accustomed to her <flnet suffering that they hardly noticed the approach of death. She had been more or less unconscious during the day. Toward evening she raised herself a little, and, clasping her .hands together, prayed aloud an ' Our Father » and ' Hail Mary » It was a last effort,, and she sank back unconscious. Madame Uaue, observing the change pass over her face sent ab once for Father Isidor. The Sister in charge lit .Naomi's baptism candle, and held it between PrayerrfofSfdyT^g! 6 *"" dd ° Wn «* *** the ri«SS Ce pilln^ li^ Uc , 1< ? 1 a cry o£ <M other!' Madame Clave clasped the dying girl in her arms. At the same moment Maiia, Madame's eldest daughter oonceived a happy thought. Above the hush of the' room Sfr- > er J 1 ' 2 ear u Voice sin S in S Gounod's ' Aye Maua.' How often she had sung it to Naomi's accompaniment ! She had begun expressly at the 'Sancta Maua. When she reached the words ' nunc et in hora ' wnh m i,S ene -i he \ c^ CS l aud , hor face was illumined as to God "us tan t later her pure spirit fled Father Isidor entered the room as Maria's voice -died away on the words ' mortis nostrae.' He had come too late,-Naomi was dead. Perhaps he felt inclined to murmur against God's Mill ; for the child had grown strangely into his heart, and he had always hoped to have been there to bless her as she went. But God had willed otherwise. He accepted the sacrifice for n?L Sa fl'f 1 ' T ' k"k "f I clin g h y h ™ side a moment,' he heaven ' althou & h he knew Wat s "e was in So Naomi passed a.\vay ; but the memory of her sweet young life, of her strange conversion, and subsequent holiness, lives still in the hearts of many s« Jl le7 j£ ld h( ii t0 reSt thele l Wbere she died > in sunny .South where the roses might lie deep on her grave And those who stood by her last, resting-place felt i^ i nf V!" JO KICK 1Ce r ralll f than to weep. In the white 10-be of her baptism she had gone to God; in her h un ri su " ie . d mnocence she had passed to Him whose lie rt n SU ° Cn " c I )Osscssicm of her young TTn l J" h n SC a^ c U !? y who follow the Lamb whithersoever of Clod 1-'1 -'- Ave'Maifa ' rC Wilh ° Ut SPOt '^^ throno