A letter from the Superioress of the Daughters of Charity, at the Hospital of Beuthen (Prussian Poland), 1865:
Some years ago, a young Protestant woman, belonging to a troupe of comedians, arrived in Beuthen with her company. The good God permitted that she should find lodgings in a Catholic family, with whom she soon essayed a controversy. "Mademoiselle," said the master of the house, "it would be better for you to go see the Sisters about these things; the Blessed Virgin has wrought wonders in their establishments, I am sure you would return fully enlightened on the subject you have been discussing." The young girl laughed at such a proposition; but a few days after, impelled by curiosity, she repaired to the hospital and asked for the Sister-Servant. "Invite her in," said the latter, who had already heard of the young actress; "no doubt, the Blessed Virgin has something in store for her here." After a few formalities of etiquette, our visitor introduced the subject of religion, and attempted to enter into a controversy with the Sister. "Alas! Mademoiselle," replied the latter, "the poor Daughters of Charity have neither the time nor learning necessary for a discussion of these subtle questions, but they have other arms with which to vanquish you;" and, smiling, she presented her disputant a little medal of the Blessed Virgin. "Promise me to wear this slight souvenir, it will be a constant reminder that we are praying for you." She allowed the Sister to put the medal on her neck, and retired rather pleased with her visit.
From this day, the Sisters at the hospital began to recommend the young actress to Mary conceived without sin. Not many weeks after, the curé said to the Sister-Servant: "Do you know, Sister, that Mademoiselle M., who spent the most of her time promenading with gentlemen and smoking cigars, now comes to me for religious instruction? In a little while she will make her abjuration." And, indeed, it was not very long before she repaired to the hospital. "Sister," said she to the Sister-Servant, "I am going to confession to-day, and to-morrow I make my First Communion. On my first visit here, I was enraged at you. I could have fought you, and cast to the winds this medal that I now kiss. From the very moment you put it on my neck, an unaccountable change was wrought in me." Next day, the church was filled with Protestants and Jews, all anxious to witness a ceremony which had excited so much comment. After her reception into the Church, the young convert, on the eve of her departure, paid another visit to the Sister Servant, and the latter saw by her very countenance what great changes grace had wrought in this soul. "Well," said the Sister, just to try her, "here is a silver medal to replace yours which has become very black." "Oh, no," was the earnest, prompt reply, as she tenderly pressed her own medal, "I would not exchange this for any other in the world, for it is since I began to wear it my soul has awaked to a new life."
Some years later, the Sister received a letter dated from Rome, it was from the young convert, who wrote to her as follows: "Sister, Providence has led me to Rome, and it is no longer Mlle. M. you must address, but Sister St.—— of the B. convent. Your desires are accomplished; I now belong entirely to God, as I once did to the world; the Blessed Virgin vanquishes souls with other arms than those of controversy."
We must add, to the praise of the young actress, that her moral character was always irreproachable.
The Superioress of the hospital at Beuthen, in narrating these facts, adds: "I could mention, for the greater glory of God and honor of the Immaculate Mary, numberless incidents of this kind, but lack of time and my weak eyes prevent my giving the details. I will say, however, and that without the slightest exaggeration, that not a week passes but the Blessed Virgin bestows upon our patients at the hospital some new proof of her maternal bounty. The medal, so dear to us, is really miraculous, and the instrument by which we snatch from destruction souls that have cost Our Lord so much. Ah! how numberless, in this unhappy land, the snares of the enemy of our salvation to entrap souls; but to vanquish him, I everywhere circulate the Miraculous Medal (you know what numbers we get), and my confidence in Mary is never deceived."
CONVERSION OF A PROMINENT FREE MASON.
New Orleans (United States), 1865.
Among the patients at the great Charity hospital, New Orleans, was a very prominent Free Mason. His hatred of religion was displayed in a thousand ways; not only did he interdict the Sister who nursed him any allusion to his salvation, but he even habitually repaid by harsh and injurious words her kindness and attention to his physical sufferings. If others ventured to mention the subject of religion to him, they were received with jeers and banters. Several times was he at the point of death, and yet, sad to relate, his dispositions remained the same. At last, when the Sister saw that he had but a few hours to live, she stealthily slipped a Miraculous Medal under his bolster, and said interiorly to the Blessed Virgin: "My dear Mother, you know I have spared no effort to touch this poor man's heart, but in vain; now I abandon him to you, it is you who must save him; I leave him entirely in your hands, and shall try to divest myself of all anxiety concerning him." That evening, in making her rounds, she glances at him and learns from the infirmarian that ever since her (the Sister's) last visit, he had been very calm and apparently absorbed in thought. On inquiring of the patient himself how he felt, she was astonished at his polite answer, but remembering that she had entrusted him entirely to the Blessed Virgin's care, she did not venture a word about his soul, and bidding him good night, she left the room.
About nine o'clock, he called the infirmarian, and asked for a priest; knowing his former bitterness, the infirmarian thought it a joke and treated it accordingly; the patient repeated his request, but with no better success. Then he began to weep and cry aloud for a priest; all the other patients were mute with astonishment, and the infirmarian unable to resist such entreaties went for the chaplain and the Sister. The dying man requested Baptism, which was administered immediately, as well as Extreme Unction, and before morning he had rendered his account to the Sovereign Judge. His body was interred with Masonic rites, but his soul, thanks to the powerful protection of Mary Immaculate, had been carried by angels to the bosom of its God.
CONVERSION OF A SICK PROTESTANT.