Letter from Mrs. Martin to her brother Isidore CF 42
November 1, 1868.
I wish you could come on the 15th, but I see that it won't be, you'll probably be waiting for the baptism of a new child, because, whatever you say, we'll still have one! That is certain, or else misfortune will befall me sooner. But if the good Lord still wants to take that one from me, I ask him that he doesn't die without baptism, that I at least have the consolation of having three angels in Heaven. I hope it will be so, because I have no idea that I will raise this child more than the other two...
I am not so saddened as last Sunday. I'm not in as much pain, although I still have a sore throat, head and toothache, but it's very bearable. I have a good appetite; only, I do not sleep well, it is at night that I suffer the most. My blood has gone to my head and I have, it is said, a look to be frightening. A lot of people think I don't have long to live. I hope they are wrong, because I have no time to die, I have too much work at the moment.
I asked the Poor Clares to pray for my father
I'm leaving my letter to go to the cemetery, I'll finish it when I get back. The stone should have been placed this week. I didn't buy a crown; there are many who do not. If you have to put one, you tell me, I prefer to have more masses said.
Often, I want you to be there to tell me about my father. How holy he died, this poor father!...
Do you remember when he shook hands with us the day before he died? How he looked like a saint! If the good Lord listened to me, he would put him in his Paradise today; If it was me, I would put it there! This good father, he was not used to suffering; I'm not afraid to go to Purgatory, it seems quite natural to me to suffer. If the good Lord wanted, I would immediately pass the contract to do my father's Purgatory and mine, I would be so happy to know he was happy!
I come back from the cemetery. The tomb is ready; it looks good, but the cross which is above, and for which we paid more, is not my idea. It is much less beautiful than that of my little Joseph. It's wasted money.
