Where Do We Get Such Souls?



In the movie Bridges at Toko-Ri, Admiral Tarrant sits in awe after a spectacular mission successfully bombing enemy bridges in Korea. The mission was a success but good men were lost. The camera pans carefully over him, clearly marked with mixed emotions as he wonders aloud: “Where do we get such men?” Men who would come from fields and farms, offices and families, to selflessly offer their aid and sometimes their lives for our country in its wartime struggles. Indeed, where do we get such men?


In celebration of my hundredth post on Catholicism Rocks, I’d like to dedicate this to Our Lady of Grace, standing beautifully poised with outpouring love for those who entrust themselves to her maternal care. God ordained that she serve us in such capacity, and she does so admirably. In the meantime, a steady stream of souls filter from this world into the next, awaiting Divine Judgment for their willingness or refusal to serve graciously as well. No one escapes that judgment, but the merciful prayers and sacrifices of the Church Militant go a long way in helping direct as many as possible in the right direction. For those souls who’ve landed in the right place but aren’t completely yet at home—I mean the souls in purgatory--it is truly a great act of mercy to remember them in our masses and rosaries, on behalf of their restitution in sufferings yet to be paid for sins. Where do we get such generous men, women and children who will intercede on their behalf? God raises them up, and the Church promotes their growth until it is their turn to hope for mercy. With all this in mind, I’d like to share a story a former parishioner sent me today honoring such souls, those in purgatory and those who intercede for them. These are lovely truths indeed, even if only in story form (though I believe the story is true), for we all are part of the heart and soul that is called the Catholic Church.


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A poor servant girl in France named Jeanne Marie once heard a sermon on the Holy Souls which made an indelible impression on her mind. She was deeply moved by the thought of the intense and unceasing sufferings the Poor Souls endure, and she was horrified to see how cruelly they are neglected and forgotten by their friends on Earth.


Among other things the preacher stressed was that many souls who are in reality near to their release -- one Mass might suffice to set them free -- are oftentimes long detained; it may be for years, just because the last needful suffrage has been withheld or forgotten or neglected!


With her simple faith, Jeanne Marie resolved that, cost what it might, she would have a Mass said for the Poor Souls every month, especially for the soul nearest to Heaven. She earned little, and it was sometimes difficult to keep her promise, but she never failed.


On one occasion she went to Paris with her mistress and there fell ill, so that she was obliged to go to the hospital. Unfortunately, the illness proved to be a long one, and her mistress had to return home, hoping that her maid would soon rejoin her. When at last the poor servant was able to leave the hospital, all she had left of her scanty earnings was one franc!


What was she to do? Where to turn? Suddenly, the thought flashed across her mind that she had not had her usual monthly Mass offered for the Holy Souls. But she had only one franc! That was little enough to buy her food. Yet her confidence that the Holy Souls would not fail her triumphed. She made her way into a church and asked a priest, just about to say Mass, if he would offer it for the Holy Souls. He consented to do so, never dreaming that the modest alms offered was the only money the poor girl possessed. At the conclusion of the Holy Sacrifice, our heroine left the church. A wave of sadness clouded her face; she felt utterly bewildered.


A young gentleman, touched by her evident distress, asked her if she was in trouble and if he could help her. She told her story briefly, and ended by saying how much she desired work.


Somehow she felt consoled at the kind way in which the young man listened to what she said, and she fully recovered her confidence.


"I am delighted beyond measure, " he said, "to help you. I know a lady who is even now looking for a servant. Come with me. " And so saying he led her to a house not far distant and bade her ring the bell, assuring her that she would find work.


In answer to her ring, the lady of the house herself opened the door and inquired what Jeanne Marie required. "Madam, " she said, "I have been told that you are looking for a servant. I have no work and should be glad to get the position. "


The lady was amazed and replied: "Who could have told you that I needed a servant? It was only a few minutes ago that I had to dismiss my maid, and that at a moment's notice. You did not meet her?"


"No, Madam. The person who informed me that you required a servant was a young gentleman. "


"Impossible!" exclaimed the lady. "No young man, in fact no one at all, could have known that I needed a servant. "


"But Madam, " the girl answered excitedly, pointing to a picture on the wall, "that is the young man who told me!"


"Why, child, that is my only son, who has been dead for more than a year!"


"Dead or not, " asserted the girl with deep conviction in her voice, "it was he who told me to come to you, and he even led me to the door. See the scar over his eye; I would know him anywhere. "


Then followed the full story of how, with her last franc, she had had Mass offered for the Holy Souls, especially for the one nearest to Heaven.


Convinced at last of the truth of what Jeanne Marie had told her, the lady received her with open arms. "Come, " she said, "though not as my servant, but as my dear daughter. You have sent my darling boy to Heaven. I have no doubt that it was he who brought you to me."


~ Excerpt from Read Me Or Rue It by Fr. Paul O'Sullivan, O.P.

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