Due to her magnanimity of soul, Dona Lucilia easily adapted to the will of others. Nothing disturbed her well-ordered inner equanimity. It was reminiscent of certain characteristically Brazilian rivers of the Amazon Basin. Tranquil in their banks, they serenely surround and cover the obstacles that arise along their course.
Peace of soul in face of the gravest setbacks
Those who lived closest to Dona Lucilia never noted any trace of impatience in her, however slight.
When life presented some grave setback, such as the loss of one of her properties to fire, or an illness that beset her with acute pain, her confidence in Providence gave her the solace to conserve her interior peace, without tormenting herself about the future. Even in her management of the house, she never let the minutiae of domestic concerns – at times, quite consuming – perturb her spirit, always maintaining her calm, like the crystalline surface of a mountain lake.
Her son, who accompanied her closely until the end of her days, was able to unreservedly affirm: “Over 60 years of company with Mama, I never once saw her subject to a caprice.”
What self-renouncement, what mastery of her own will was necessary over her long life, to merit this comment – so simple, and yet a testimony of such inner poise!
Three photographs, three facets of her soul
From the day on which Dona Lucilia reached 80 years, her virtues became even more manifest to those who had the privilege of observing her.
Looking back on the varied aspects of her nuanced soul, we could say that perhaps the most beautiful of them was a harmonious contrast: on one hand, her great kindness, which shone in her gracious treatment of others, ever inclined to doing them good; on the other hand, her firmness, seriousness and unbreakable fidelity to the Catholic way of being. She drew all of these qualities from the Divine Teacher.
By providential circumstance, in three photographs taken on her great-grandson’s birthday, on February 4, 1956 – and therefore, a little before her own – we see evidence of these magnificent sides of her soul. We find her, on this occasion, at the house of her granddaughter, Maria Alice.
Dona Lucilia on February 4,1956
A respite amid a life of crosses
In the first photograph, (above) we see Dona Lucilia holding little Francisco Eduardo. It is one of the few pictures that captures her speaking; her communicative demeanour almost seems to convey movement. Her eyes are expressive, and her overall appearance denotes a marked desire to please those around her, as only she knew how to do.
At the same time, her expression is of one who is experiencing an interlude of contentment and respite in the midst of a life where crosses are not lacking. For someone who oriented her existence by fidelity to Our Lord Jesus Christ, those 80 years could only have been a Via Crucis. What recollections of every kind must have passed through Dona Lucilia’s mind that day!
The steadfastness of a contemplative in a decadent society
The second photograph (at the beginning of the article) reveals another side of her spirit. Her profound and pensive gaze is lifted to high horizons, in whose depths God is found. She almost seems to be a contemplative living in the blessed cloister of her monastery, turned entirely toward celestial things. But no; we see that this gaze is framed in the face of a traditional Paulista lady living in society, in the mid-twentieth century.
Her bearing also transmits a striking assertiveness. Her way of closing her lips is that of someone who affirms that she does not yield, shrink back, or transgress even slightly in matters of principles, not even to win a smile. Her path is chosen, and she is determined to follow it to the end.
The same attitude of soul is visible in photographs taken of her on other occasions, markedly in those from Paris. These make up a collection clearly demonstrating the strong psychological continuity of her life, which no vicissitude was able to alter.
Many years after Dona Lucilia’s death, her son would remember that day with nostalgia, commenting on the memories evoked by the second picture:
“Many times in life I saw her perplexed, with something of this look. She would maintain her facial expression, without furrowing her brow, her gaze fixed on an undetermined point and, so to say, absent from the face itself, meditating. It was a sign of inner concern, and she was calmly pondering on how to act.
“When she judged that her apprehensions had been confirmed, she surrendered herself, resigned and trusting, into God’s hands. At these times, what I most admired in her was her calmness in the midst of apprehension.”
Affection and delight
The last of these photographs gives interesting proof of Dona Lucilia’s kindheartedness, that quality of soul that so marked her life.
Dona Lucilia on February 4, 1956
Beyond her elevated distinction, one notices her extreme pleasure at having her great-grandson in her arms, to protectively surround him with her capacious affection. ◊
Taken, with minor adaptations, from:
Dona Lucilia. Città del Vaticano-Nobleton: LEV;
Heralds of the Gospel, 2013, p.537-542
