A Mother's Spiritual Diary

Portrait of my Husband

"Here is a picture of what my husband was. He was very good, a Christian and a gentleman, honest, correct, intelligent and big-hearted. He was sensitive to adversity, full of tenderness reward me, an excellent father of a family, who had no other diversion than his children. They were his joy and he suffered greatly when they were ill. Very proper in his attitudes, refined, very polished in his manners, very attentive toward me, a home body, very simple, filled with deference and delicacy. He had a strong, energetic character, which, as time passed, he toned down. He showed great confidence in me, (he often spoke to me about his business, asking my opinion, even though it was worth nothing) and an orderly methodical man.

"From the day after our wedding until his death, he let me receive Communion every day. I had laid down that condition on the day of our marriage. He kept his promise faithfully and took care of the children until I came back from church. Later, when he was gravely ill, he told me: 'Go to Communion.' I lived at the time opposite the church of the Incarnation. I left at the moment of consecration and quickly returned to be with him. I never read to him anything I wrote... At times he found me writing my Account of conscience. He said to me: 'They are spiritual matters I do not understand anything about them.'

"It was necessary sometimes to go with him to the theater or the dance, especially when we lived at San Luis. He never went alone.

"He had a great fear of death. When I read him some passages, from the Imitation of Jesus Christ, we often came across the chapter 'on death.' He thought I did this deliberately. Two years before his death, I had the presentiment that he would not live very long. I told him this, begging him to profit by it for the good of his soul.

"He was somewhat jealous. When I was gravely ill, which happened on numerous occasions, he attended me day and night, not wanting anybody else to watch over me. Every Sunday he went to Basilica, the national sanctuary, to commend me to Our Lady of Guadalupe.

"Before dying, he made a general confession and his fear of death changed into perfect acceptance of the divine will. He said: 'To my mind, death is the moment I am failing most to my children but God knows what He is doing and I want to do His will.' I helped him die a good death. At that moment, my forehead resting on the forehead of him who was so good to me, I consecrated myself to God to be all for Him" (Aut. 1, 379-381).