Rome, February 8, 1920
My own Beloved:

I am writing this skipping the continuation of my Diary, to tell you something sad but consoling. The evening of the First Friday, day before yesterday, I met Msgr. O'Hern in a carriage near the American College. He got out and spoke to me and said he was going out to the Blue Sister's hospital to see one of his boys who was very ill with grippe or pneumonia. You can imagine how it affected me, especially when he told me he was from the Richmond Diocese. I made an engagement with Msgr. O'Hern the next evening. I planned in the meantime how I could send the young man flowers, etc., as soon as I got further data the next evening. I went to the College last night at six o'clock and Msgr. O'Hern told me the young man had died that morning at 8:30. When Msgr. O'Hern saw him Friday evening he was much better and they thought he was going to get well, so great had been his improvement since that morning when he had had the Last Sacraments. He had a bad turn about three o'clock Saturday morning and his agony commenced and he passed quietly away at 8:30 while they were saying the prayers for the dying. He died so quietly and peacefully that the end came imperceptibly. R.I.P. His name was Frank Parater. He arrived from America some time in November. They did not know his Mother's address, so the Bishop was cabled of his very serious illness and finally of his death. I passed by the College this evening and one of the students said he thought he was from Richmond itself.

Well! The consoling part I have yet to relate, and it is consoling. As Msgr. O'Hern said: "We had a saint in our midst and we did not know it." And may I add, I believe there are many in our midst and we know it not. Right here in Rome, I am convinced there are very great saints and many of them Jesuits, Dominicans, Franciscans, etc., etc., and many too in the women religious communities. And I am sure too that there are numberless mothers of families who are treading the highest paths. To me this latter class is the most inspiring. To think of one or two I know is to make me wonder how I shall ever merit Heaven.

Well! To return to our saint, after his death his passport had to be looked into for the necessary papers to be made out. In his passport was found a small sheet of fool's cap paper or I should say large pad paper. On one of its margins was written: "Private. To be read only in case of my death." It was dated Dec. 5, 1919. I tell the following incident so you may form an idea of the boy's character and temperament before I tell you the rest. Three King's Day - Epiphany - they have some games at the College. The boy who draws a certain something (I forget the details) from the cake is the King of the evening, and calls on all the others to perform. He did his part so well; full of life and gaiety. The letter was headed "My Last Testament." I cannot tell all but I tell you all I can remember. He said he had nothing to leave and nothing to give, but his life - and that he had given or offered years ago to the Sacred Heart. He was ready and glad to give his life now for the spread of the Church in Virginia. He continued by saying that he did not want to shirk his duty nor be wanting in courage but if it was God's Holy Will he would like to die young for the conversion of non-Catholics in Virginia, for he felt in so giving his life he could help the cause more from Heaven than he could on earth. He went on to say he did not write this from a spirit of "melancholia" or from a spirit of "morbid sentimentality." On the contrary, he loved the College, the men and Rome. But he longed to die and be "buried among the saints." He continued by saying that he had always wanted to remain a little child and his hope was to appear before God as a boy, young like St. John Berchmans, as Stanislaus and as Aloysius. He said he would not be far from his family and would help them he was sure more from Heaven. The last paragraph added that if God willed it, he hoped to be with Him for Good Friday, 1920 but "not my will but Thine be done." Signature. Isn't that wonderful?

Monday, Feb. 9.
Well, I went this morning to the funeral. His body was brought from the Sisters last evening about seven o'clock and the office of the dead was chanted. The coffin was on a raised catafalque and covered with a beautiful cloth of gold pall with a trimming of black cloth and gold embroidery. A cushion of black and gold was lying on the top at the head. Eight candles were burning at the side. The chapel is so arranged: (diagram)

The students face each other, you see, their places being where I marked the benches. The young saint was lying there in the midst of his companions. Msgr. O'Hern sang the Mass, with older students and perhaps a young priest as Deacon and Sub-deacon. The choir sang marvelously. The absolution after the Mass was so exquisite and the Paradise and Benedictus were both sung without organ and never was I so impressed, I believe. The students all held lighted candles for the Gospel and again for the Preface till after the Communion and during the final Absolution. Of course it was all marvelously solemn and what added to the beauty and solemnity was that all the colleges sent representatives and also the Orders, all young students. They knelt in the rear behind the benches in the part where I have visitors benches marked. (That part is much larger than I indicated.) It was a wonderful and impressive sight to see all those young men kneeling around the mortal remains of one like them who had already had his reward. And then too when one remembers that these young men make real sacrifices of all that appeals to youth. And such wonderful faces among them! Back of the altar was a great silver cross embroidered on black cloth. The chapel itself is very beautiful and devotional, all marble up to the frieze which is of stucco and gold figures and designs. The ceiling is gilt relief. After it was all over the students who had on surplices, went out processionally as they had come in by the little door to the right. The big door in the rear was only opened for the body to be carried out. The young student pallbearers came back to the chapel and their companion they carried to the hearse visiting at the door. Four of the Blue Sisters were at the Mass. They who had nursed him. Msgr. O'Hern came and asked me if I should like to go to the cemetery in the carriage with the Sisters. Of course, I was very happy to do so for I felt like I could tell you all and you could tell the dear Mother whom they say is ill. And tell her that I felt I was there to represent her and that I prayed for her and oh: prayed that she might have been there. Of course, till she gets the letters and knows that her son was a real saint her grief will be greater in a sense. But as Msgr. O'Hern said: "the letter the boy left did take away the sting." I thought of how Paneratius' mother accepted her sacrifice and I am sure the 20th century mother will do the same.

But oh! how hard! About thirty-five of the sixty students went to the cemetery in carriages. And, of course, Msgr. Mahoney. (The Spiritual Director of the College who gave the last Sacraments.) Now I will tell you some of the things the Sisters told me so if you think wise you can tell the mother. I know from my war experiences how the dear mothers long for each detail, which to outsiders may seem insignificant. And then too women tell things men would not think of. In the first place, the Sisters are perfectly sweet to me. "The little Company of Mary" is their congregation, an English foundation with their Mother-House here and they have convents on all the continents, Australia too, also New Zealand and Malta. Three of them are Irish and one an American from Chicago. Young Mr. Parater was with them two weeks. He had the grippe - pneumonia only developed the last day. He attracted all who came near him. A wonderful patient, who took his medicine without the slightest murmur. The students came often to see him and loved him for he seemed to have endeared himself to all. The Saturday before he died, a week before, he became delirious and was that way a greater part of the time, with however perfectly lucid moments. He spoke before this time and often during it of how it would kill his mother if she knew he was in the hospital and then also of how he wrote every week and how anxious he was to write so she would not worry, also that he would write soon. Two days before he died he thought he had written to her and was very happy over it. As I said, the First Friday morning he had had the Sacraments. He was perfectly himself. They waited until about nine o'clock as he was able then to swallow better and gave him Holy Communion and the Last Sacraments. When they told him the Last Sacraments were better to be given, he answered he was perfectly ready. Msgr. O'Hern, as I said, was with him Friday evening and he was absolutely himself, smiling and bright. I told you of the end. They left him on his bed till they put him in his coffin yesterday afternoon. The boys came in groups to visit him each group saying the beads. Sister said many of the boys were weeping, especially one from his own diocese (Byrne I believe was his name). She said it was wonderful to hear them praying around him. He was dressed in his soutane and soporanno, black soutane laced in blue with red sash. She said he was beautiful, peaceful and happy. The coffin was all lined and padded in white satin and was handsome in every way. Here in Italy the wooden coffin is then put into a zinc box and that is soddered and that is what I saw. On it was a raised gilded cross and a beautiful plate with his name, date of birth, and Richmond, Va., and died in Rome, February 7, 1920. He is buried in San Lorenzo Cemetery. (St. Lawrence) which as I mentioned in a previous letter is over the catacombs of St. Lyriaea in the shadow of St. Lorenzo adjoining it. And there as you know lie St. Stephan, St. Lawrence, and Pius IX. The cemetery itself is very beautiful, filled with stately cypress trees. The American College has an exquisite chapel on a hill and the students walked from the cemetery gate to the chapel behind the hearse on which were hung beautiful floral offerings from the colleges and one I saw from the students "of the Southern Dioceses." The chapel had a beautiful oriental rug on the Altar step which came down on the floor and on it the student pall-bearers laid the dear saint. As we walked a short distance from our own carriage when the boys were carrying the coffin in the chapel the choir sang. Inside the chapel the Sisters and I were grouped at the side of the altar right by the body. The Benedictus was sung also the Kyrie, and the body was aspersed. Then we all knelt and Msgr. O'Hern kneeling opposite from us said the beautiful prayers for us and him in English. The boys all looked so solemn and so impressed and so feeling and indeed well they might! The body of a saint was before us. And surely he had his desire for he was resting among the saints, was near St. Lawrence and St. Stephan and many others, martyrs, lie in the catacombs below.

The chapel was marble shelves and the boys lifted the young saint's remains into the one opened to receive them. Then this was closed by a marble front, (like the catacombs but above the ground) and the name put on it, his diocese and the date. He is on the right hand side as you face the altar and put below the last young student who died at the College eight years ago and whom the Sisters nursed. Bishop Kennedy is buried at the end also at the right side. We all dispersed and I am sure this young hero of Christ has already done much good. The Sisters drove me home asking me to come to see them. Every day from 1:30 to 4:30, on Sundays and also on the First Friday they have Exposition for the intention of the dying. Now is not that beautiful?

They said that if he had been at home he would not have had more care, they had doctors in consultation. To me, it is apparent the boy's offering was accepted. They feel deeply for the mother as do all. When I went last night to the College the porter called the Sacristan-student to speak to me. The first thing he said was: "And his mother is ill, we hear." Think of what a sacrifice, Nell.

I will not put more of anything concerning us but will try to write very soon. I can't help but worry over the reports in the papers about the grippe in the U.S.

Your own old sister,

P.S. I want to add the day of the funeral, in fact of his death also, was indescribably beautiful. A glorious blue sky, wonderful atmosphere, nature in its perfection. One could not want one's best beloved to be in a more beautiful or more holy spot.

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