The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1916-09-02
THE WHITE ROSE.

Dom Paschal had passed the age of
sixty when, one night in midwinter,
on entering the choir for Mathis, he
was struck with sudden thrill of awe
ON seeing a white rose lying on the
desk of his STALL For this sign, ira
ditional in his Monastery, was wont
to appear when the Master of Life and
Death was about to call one of the
brethren to Himself.
He thrust the rose quickly into the
sleeve of his habit, before the lights
were turned up in the shadoW-filled
church. God forbid that he should be
guilty of causing distraction to his
Ineighbors at such a solemn moment.
(The sense of being in touch with the
supernatural was renewed ON noticing
that the rose, with it's SINGLE green
leaf, had no thorn. For himself, he
had never been so free from distrac-
ton nor relished with such intensity
of devotion the hidden mama of the
inspired words of the liturgy in which
he was probably joining on earth for
the last time. Would that his soul
was pure enough to be admitted with
out long delay to the divine liturgy of
Heaven! Dom Paschal was uplifted
by citation at the near prospect of the
new sphere so far beyond our ken, to
which he was to be raised on behold
ing his Lord face to face. But his
heart sank at the thought of his I'M
worthiness.
He was burning with desire to share
his momentous secret. 1t was the time
of the, Nocturnal Silence, which might
not be broken save with grave neces-
sity. He hesitated whether or no to
speak to the abbot that night. In an
swer to his prayer for light in this
dilemma came the conviction that God
would have him wait till the verse
"Pretiosa in conspectu Domini" of
Prime gave the signal that the solemn
silence was over
The night Office being ended, Dom
Paschal raised his eyes to glance with
tender affection at his brethren as two
by two the cowled figures began to
move from their places and genufiect
before the altar. They would be chant
ing his Requiem Mass sooner than any
of them suspected. The snow now
softly falling would perchance, still be
lying on the ground when they made
his grave.
There was a strange sense of final
ity and significance in the apparently
most insignificant details. 1t seemed
to him that he was seeing things in
their true light and perspective for the
first. time in his life. He must set his
affairs in order without delay.
Having reached his cell, he knelt
down and prepared general confess
sion of his sins. Next he drew out the
pages of his precious manuscript-the
work of half a lifetime-which had alb
sorbed long hours of deep thought
and application. He had hoped time
would have been given him to reach
the end, but since the Author of his
life had ordained to write ''Finis" to
the work of His own Hands, who
might gainsay His will Yet, on ar
ranging and labelling his rough notes,
he could not repress a sigh at the
thought how enigmatical they might
prove to any who had not the solution
in his own brain.
He felt his strength ebbing, and did
not know how soon the summons
might sound. With feverish longing,
he awaited the moment when he could
confide all to the abbot
The dark winter morn had not yet
dawned when the bell pealed for the
brethren to rise for the work of God.
Dom Paschal awoke from the fitful
slumber into which he had fallen to
find himself unable to move from his
hard pallet. Again the bell sounded
the signal for the end of the noctur-
nal silence, and, making a supreme
effort, he gathered up sufficient
strength to totter to the door of his
cell and summon one of the lay broth
ers who was Fastening down to the
Mass. Would Brother Felix have the
charity to beseech Father Abbot to-