The Irish standard., 1912-09-07
Daughter of Nathaniel Hawthorne
Now is Mother Alphonsa of
Servants of Relief.
After the Death of Her Husband
Became Dominican Nun to
Soothe the Afflicted.
She Inherits the Literary Genius
of the Great Puritan Author
of New England.

From the home circle Of New Eng
land's-indeed.' Americas greatest
romancist, from the literary and ar.is-
tic life Of two continents. to withdraw
to the narrow rooms of a cancer hos
ptal, and there minister in cheerful
ness and devotion-such is the life
history in brief of Mrs. Rose Hnw.
thorne Lathrop, the daughter of Ma
thaniel Hawthorne. whose former
identity is now merged in the reltg.
Gus name OF a Dominican nun. She
Is Mother Alphonsa, the Mother Supe-
rior of the Servants of Relief, an order
which she founded to be devoted to
nursing free of charge, the incurahle
cancerous poor. To do this, says Ma
bel Potter Daggett in The Woman's
herself from long line OF Puritan an-
cestors and withdrew from the Unita-
rianism professcd by her immediate
family to enter the Catholic church
and take up this lifework." This xtep
was taken fifteen years ago. Her pri-
vate fortune and the contributions of
friends enabled her to establish the
little Cancer Home in Cherry street,
New York. where tarly for a short
time the stricken procession OF the
dying and the dead. It's history
is told in the simple language OF the
children who play on the sidewalk be-
fore 1t. Every day the ambulance is
bringing sick ones and always the un-
dertaker's wagon is taking dead oaes
away" Mrs. DaEgett writes:
1T Is a. little old fashioned three
story brick building on Cherry street.
in the shadow of the tall tenerncnts
where Mrs. O'Harrigan and others
sometimes sweep the Railways at the
sign Of the overf1owing garbage cans
by the doorWays.
But the Cancer Home itself, set In
this district of poverty and dirt and
disease, is immaculate, like the spot.
less white muslin curtains that hang
ut it's windows.
"a ring for admission is ans wered
by the FORTRESS. who first looks out
through the tiny sliding panel In the
door. In the reception room little tsp
ers a7oat in olive-oil in red glass
tumblers burn dimly before the reli-
glous pictures on the wall. and the
carved figure Of the Christ hangs on
the cross above the mantel.
TN the rooms of the upper floors lie
the white-facel patients to whom This
charity ministers. They are suffering
death in life. and a misery one OF the
most awful that humanity is heir to.
The stiffness in the little home is the
stiffness of endured pain. 1t Is broken
by the sound of low moan of an
guish.
prayers in the chapel. where the Sis
ters. repeating with tense lips their
Ave Marias. are beseeching the saints
to intercede In compassion and soothe
the pain of their helpless charges
IL waited. After time she came.
The silver crucifix cleaned brightly as
it dangled from the black beaded ros-
ary hanging at her side. It was d
Dominican nun in the rough cream
colored serge habit Of the order who
extended her hand In greeting.
But 1t was Rose Hawthorne Lath-
rop. whose wonderful eyes flashed
from beneath the black-veiled head.
dress.
Strange to say, she has not lost her
smiling.
Sorrow and self-denial and self
sacrifice in the service of humanity,
all the burdens that the troublous
years have laid upon her, have not
been able to silence the joy-note that
still dominates the key In which her
life was originally written"
In all New York there is no other
free home for this class Of sufferers
AS soon as they are pronounced in-j
durable. the other hospitals must turn
them away. "Blackwells Island.
which to some who know Dantes In Y
ferno on earth, is their final dest!na-s
tton." But the woman who proyidsds
the first means OF relief has now SEEM