Maria and the Bellasis family 11

Mother Francis and I continued with our Sunday sessions, but both of us felt the strain it was having, so I asked her if we could skip to the bit about her, personally and her family, and that after that, I would like to have a break from the story, although I hoped to hear it all eventually. 

“Mother Cornelia made it her custom to  educate one child in every ten free of charge. She would  assist the relations of the community with the most delicate kindness, rather as if she were receiving than conferring a favour. At Christmas-time she would provide Christmas-trees with presents for each child in the elementary schools, and would delight in working for them herself, counting the gifts  to see that no one was forgotten. This is when I first appeared on the scene.”

“Oh good, I’ve been waiting for that.”

“When I arrived, she told  my father: 'Your darling Mary is winning all hearts. She had an overwhelming flood of tears when apparently thinking of home yesterday, though she only half acknowledged the cause, but very stoutly denied that 'anybody or anything at St. Leonards made her cry.' Whereupon a letter to her darling  Mama was proposed, and sunshine soon returned. I have not heard yet whether the epistle is completed, but she is very bright and sunny.'

" Reverend Mother always called me ' Meary,' which I suppose was an Americanism. It was a privilege to be sent for by her, though I did not always appreciate it at the time. Serious admonitions took place when I deserved them, and I especially remember a ' talking to ' in connection with spending too much money. She would say to me : ' How is it, Meary, that you have spent so much money? Your Papa has become a poor man for Our Lord, and you ought to be thinking of saving him as much as possible.' “

“Why does she say your papa was a poor man? He was a very important government figure, was he not?”

“Yes, but he was very generous with his money. 

“In 1860 she wrote to my father : ' We shall always  go on thanking you for the plenary indulgence you obtained for us, and for the blessing and handwriting of the dear Holy Father, which enrolls you among our benefactors to be prayed for among the living and the dead in future. Your two darling  children are quite well and good. And they have everything to make them enjoy their sunny, sinless childhood.' 

" My school career was cut short by a doctor's verdict that I needed rest. I went home in the spring of 1866. Reverend Mother wrote to my father (April 7th, 1866) : ' If I thought your medical man was correct in his opinion of dear Mary, I should  grieve over the announcement made in your letter, but I feel I am spared this pain by not believing a word of it. Do not, however, suppose that I should like you to run the smallest  risk. You are doing very wisely in keeping her at home, free  from all study, and if you gave the little woman a trip to France this summer, it would do her all the good in the world. You only speak of Mary. What about Frances? Do you think she will be happy without Mary? I do not. They are not only darling children and much beloved by us all, but they have talent enough to bear a year's cessation from study, and still keep up to, if not beyond, others of their own age in the course of study followed in the school.' “

“So you went to France?”

" The trip to France proved no mere trip, but a course of  French in a convent in Paris. During the following year I  was seized with a severe illness, and we were fetched home in  July, 1867. I for a time was given up to the throes of an illness which was declared mortal. I was promised an early death, and Reverend  Mother's letter — the last I received from her — strengthened me in my hope of leaving this world. The letter closes the period of vivid recollections, and  you can read  it in full : 

" Convent of the Holy Child Jesus, 

" St. Leonards -on- Sea. 

" February 12th, 1868. 

" My sweetest Mary, 

"  What a joy it would have been to us if your dear little face had presented itself on Frances' (my sister) arrival ! Our dear  Lord did not send us such a favour, therefore we must satisfy ourselves by hearing of you only, and sending you a few lines  just to say that we love you very tenderly, and pray for you  in all our prayers, and in our thoughts. You know Our Lord accepts our thoughts as prayers when we desire earnestly anything good and for His greater glory. And He accepts our tears too when they are good tears, like Our Lady's, even though we may not have the thought just at the time they are flowing. I suppose they would then come under actions and very fast actions too when they roll very plentifully and unbidden. 

" ' My sweetest darling, what a happy hope you have of going to heaven without many of the trials of this weary world!  Do you remember reading " Easter in Heaven," or was it after you left here that we had it ? It is a beautiful picture of our future home. 

" ' I often think of your dear companions, Mary de Lisle and May Corry, and of how they stole Heaven before us. Ask them sometimes to pray for us in the midst of toil and trial while they have been chosen before us ! 

" ' Good-bye, darling. All send their dearest love with mine. 

" ' Ever yours in the heart of Jesus, CC”

“But you didn’t die. Do you think that her prayers caused a miracle?”

“No, I think I was just lucky, but now that you mention it, I do believe in the power of prayers, so perhaps that did have something to do with my quick recovery.”

“But you were happy when you were back at the school?”

" With all the gaiety and fun at school, there was mingled a most  attractive spirit of piety. Our dear Lord and His Mother, our Guardian Angels and the Saints were mixed up with our daily  life in a happy, loving spirit, which never made devotion tedious or distasteful.  As I grew older, and began to reflect upon all that I saw,  I was struck with the religious spirit among the nuns. They  were so unworldly although their duties brought them much into  contact with the world, and I saw them as examples of simplicity, generosity  and kindness.”

“Was it a difficult decision to become a nun? Did your parents approve?”

“Yes, they were very supportive. But I remember one piece of advice my father gave me. ‘Avoid a critical spirit, do not find fault with things. There are things that will not admit of criticism. But remember a critical spirit is often ill natured and indication of a common-place orientation.’ When I was about to go to India to be with Kattie when she was having her first baby, he said, ‘Avoid all comments about Catholics that may be repelled or misinterpreted for instance saying something negative about a Catholic school although   they maybe have some fault.’ he was basically telling me to keep my head down.”

“Tell me more about your family.”

“You know that I have three brothers, and  two who are priests, and four sisters, two   who are nuns in this same convent. I was received in the convent first, and then my sister Ceceilie, and finally Monica decided to join.  I think Monica  was Mother  Connolly’s favourite, and she wrote her many letters.”

She again got out a group of letters from her file, and handed me one to read. 

“Monica became a nun after Father died, so it was a great sacrifice for our Moma to let her go. But she still had Clare at home.”

" My dearest Monica 

" Your letter received this morning had a very warm welcome and was rapidly passed on to dear Mother Mary Francis. Now my dear child you will feel assured that your dear self will have a still more heartfelt congratulation when the time comes 

" Where there is a true vocation God gives the grace necessary, and you need not think whether you are very clever or not. I am particularly pleased with the expressions of your  letter and with your trust in God, who never fails us when we confide in Him. Let us unite in thanking God that your Mama is resigned to make the sacrifice. Of course it was a great trial, but the prayers of your dear saintly Father will be her great help. 

" You will be five, in all, given especially to the service of God, and this will be a triumph to him in Heaven. Give my  dearest love to Mama, to C and to K . I must now 

stop, my dearest Monica. I am not allowed to write long as I am only recovering slowly. 

" Ever yours affectionately in J. C, 

" M. Cornelia Connelly, 

" Sup. Gen." 

“I think perhaps we should leave the story of Mother Connolly’s death for another occasion,” she said, and I agreed with her.