The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, 24 October 1912, Page 5

The Storyteller

HER DREAM REALISED She was an old lady of seventy and a convert for many years. . ' I had known her for a long time, and held her in high esteem for her virtue, piety, and intellectual gifts. She was an unusual personality and had hosts of friends. She carried her years like a queen, and her stately figure, with its shapely head crowned with abundant snow-white hair, giving gracious evidence of her age, would attract attention anywhere. One day I said to her rather unexpectedly: ' Madame Thirza, you have never told me the circumstances of your conversion. You know lam always on the lookout for marvels of grace that might instruct and edify others. I know the world is full of them if we only looked about us. God's hand is not shortened, nor-is His heart less loving as time rolls on. Do tell me what made you a Catholic.' A faint blush overspread her venerable yet delicate features, and it seemed to me her eyes grew moist and tender. She said

;• ' You are right, Father Alexander. His' heart never grows less loving. God was very good to me, and I will tell you all about it. .' 'Fifty years ago I was a bride, a happy; girl of twenty. My husband was a nominal Catholic, and I was a strict Baptist. I don't know how we ever grew to be so fond of each other, but we were a most devoted couple until his death. My husband never spoke of religion, and at that time took such matters very easy. I was distressed at this, and after a while I ventured to take him to task for it, as he never went to church. I even tried to bring him over to my way of worshipping God. I wanted him to become a Baptist, a church member. He did not seem to understand me for a while, but when it broke on him he gave a hearty laugh in the most disconcerting manner, and, 'taking both my hands in hi 3, he looked me straight -in the f aco and said : . . v "Why, little girl, don't you know it is as impossible for a Catholic to change his faith and be sincere as it is for him to change his color ? There, is only one true faith, little wife, as there is only one sun, and although I am a bad Catholic (God forgive me!), I never could be of any other religion." ' These words made a deep impression on me. If there were only one true faith, was I quite sure it was my faith? My husband, careless and easy as he was, had the most profound conviction that the Catholic religion was the only real religion., If he were right (and I never knew him to make. a mistake in matters of thought or intelligence), why should I not. try Cat least to find out something about that religion,i and if there were flaws in it, which would be very- apparent to a disinterested party (so I thought in my ignorance), I could argue a little about it. I was really in earnest, and, being of a religious turn of mind and very anxious to convert my husband, I determined to go into the enemy's camp and look around for myself. I was trembling at the thought of meeting the ''Scarlet Woman of Popery," but I loved my husband dearly, and hoped I was striving for his soul. . ..' ' My husband was a travelling agent, .and often was absent for two or three months at a time. This was hard for us both, but we consoled' ourselves with the hope of better things ere long, and as he wrote me every few days without fail, and told me where to address my letters, looking for the mail became my most engrossing occupation, until one night I had a strange dream. ;: :.„ *; ; ' My husband had been away two weeks, and I had received his letters regularly. In the last he wrote, some closing phrase, which told me that his faith, though crusted over by the distractions of the world, was still there, undying and strong. All day I thought" of his words. I forget what they were exactly, -. but that night I had a strange dream. j* "';..' V^f ' I seemed to be wandering alone in a dark cavern. I touched the rocks on either side; they were cold and rough. The passage was narrow and the path was uneven. I was continually stumbling. I walked on blindly, getting more and more weary at every step, wondering when I should reach the end. I had some vague idea it was my soul's destiny, and .that I was going through earth's pilgrimage to God, but the cavern seemed interminable. My hands were sore and bleeding from the rough walls of rock I was obliged to feel on each side in the darkness, and my feet were aching and burning. Suddenly the thought flashed through my tired brain: 'Am lon the right road? I seemed to have set out bravely, fully convinced I would reach my destination, but now I was almost exhausted. In my dream I fell on my knees with my arms outstretched and prayed aloud: " O Lord, ; give me light to know the right path !" /Suddenly a great brilliancy suffused the far distance. I saw a cross in the midst of it, and beneath it, as it were, on some nigh mountain, a noble edifice. Standing in front of it was a glorious and beautiful Figure, with eyes that pierced my very soul. One hand pointed to His breast, which 7 seemed to be a quivering mass of living light the other hand pointed to the cross-crowned edifice. • I tried to spring forward, but fell on my face and awoke.

; I need not tell -you the impression that dream had on me. ]■■ I was not in the least superstitious, nor," as a usual thing, bothered by the foolish vagaries of my sleep ;^ but 31; was haunted day and night by the vivid picture that was revealed to me as I knelt with outstretched arms in that dark cave and cried to the Saviour ; for light. I did not dare to tell that dream to any one. It seemed : too sacred to gossip about. I would not tell : my minister, and I could not write it to my husband. One day I was shopping, and passed the door of a Catholic church. It was.in the heart of the busy city—the only Catholic church of prominence in the district.-It-is now torn down, but even when I pass the site I bow my head. I glanced at the open doorway, and with a guilty feeling I entered. It was a vast aisle of gloom. The Gothic arches lost themselves in vagueness; the altar looked far, far away, and the church seemed deserted save for a few bowed forms that did not pay the slightest attention to anything around them. I advanced half way up the aisle and stood doubting and trembling. /I had never been in such a place before. I was drawn onwards by an invisible force. I saw a crimson star flickering, trembling in space. I followed it and stood beneath it. I found it was a richly-deco-rated lamp suspended from the roof. I looked around, half frightened at my temerity. I was standing before a long, low railing that extended across the church. Suddenly a figure robed in black, with a peculiar square cap,' came from a door within the railed space. He raised his cap as ho knelt before what I now know was the altar. I stood terrified lest he should recognise me as an intruder and order me out of the place. I felt I deserved it, but he arose and, coming to the railing, courteously asked me in a low voice if he.could serve me in any way. I think my embarrassment told him I was an outsider, for when I answered hesitatingly he asked me if I would not come to the house. I dared not refuse, but followed him, bewildered, and only recovered breath when I was ushered into a neatlyfurnished, little parlor, where I was courteously motioned to a chair. The priest had asked no questions, and now looked at me benevolently, waiting for me to speak. I hardly, know how it happened, but I raised my eyes and saw on the wall a picture of the Saviour with one hand on His breast, the other extended, and my dream rose up before me, and I cried out to the priest, pointing to the picture: "Oh, sir, what does that mean In a few words he explained the meaning of the Sacred Heart, and I told him my dream. And then my heart was unlocked, and I told him all my doubts, all about my desire to explain away my husband's faith, "and, in fact, made an entire confession of everything that was on my heart and mind, ending with my unaccountable impulse to enter the church door as I passed that day. He listened patiently and gravely, and then smilingly said ' "I knew you were not a Catholic when first I saw you,_ my child, and I cannot but believe that God has special designs for you. We won't discuss that to-day, - but,- since you are so anxious to convert your husband, I will give you a book to read— book that will tell you everything that Catholics believe, and, in fact, their; whole religion. It won't take you long to read it, and if you desire any explanations I am nearly always at home in the afternoons, and I place myself at your service." ~ ' • Saying this, he rose and took a small paper-back J l ™.™™ a bookcase and handed it to me. It was a Little Catechism." I thanked him as I rose to depart. I gave him my address, and left his house with such a feeling ot peace and serenity in my heart that I felt like singing aloud for joy. I had no wish to become a Catholic; I was only delighted to think I had actually spoken to a minister of my husband's religion, and he did not denounce my desire to convert him * 'Tl^iW e ? fc ?° me F took the first opportunity to read the little book. I was amazed at its simplicity and reasonableness, and then at its tone of conviction at its clear decision, at its self-evident statements- - facts that only needed thought and unprejudiced judgment to affirm their certainty. I finished the little book at one sitting. Again I read it, and it was not

long before I had to yield to its truth. The days gassed on; my husband's "letters came regularly. : "Everything went on as usual, but within my soul it was as if a new world;: had burst upon my vision. When my husband returned for a two weeks' rest he noticed a change, an unaccountable something, but I was determined to hold my peace until I could tell him all. - .'-- r 'Six months passed away. My husband had gone again, and in the meantime I had visited my friend, the good priest, and was being instructed in the good faith. I will not tire you, Father Alexander, by going into further details, but the next time my husband came home I asked him to take a walk one evening. We went, to his amazement, to the rectory, where my good father and instructor was waiting, and while my husband stood dumb in surprise he announced that I waa to be baptised conditionally next day; that I was to make my First Holy Communion the following Sunday. And then I said to my husband: ; .'-- ~. '"Will you not come with me?' 'He was overcome, but before we left the house he had promised. He kept his promise. We received Holy Communion together, and until his death he never failed in the practise of his religion. He died like a saint, after a long, weary illness. A nun, the, teacher of my children, knelt at his bedside saying the, prayers for his departing soul, and when he passed away she closed his eyes and said to us as we wept there: "Do not sorrow. He is with God and the saints." ".- .... -•-- - ~ ' That was many years ago, Father, but my faith has never faltered-; my dream has been realised. I found the light through the love of the Sacred Heart."— Extension. ..'•:■..;- ■ :..:.. S •':-;: