To break the monotony of each day following the same routine as the last, Dr. Plinio took his mother from time to time for a walk along Alagoas Street,1 where they lived. He never took her so far as Buenos Aires Square, thinking it unwise to cross the extremely busy Angélica Avenue with her. Therefore, he followed a street opposite to the square, much quieter at that time than it is today, where there still stood many beautifully landscaped homes.
Remembrances from the last walks
As the glare of the sun began to wane, the two would head out, very slowly, carrying on a light conversation. As they strolled along, Dona Lucilia marvelled at the flower gardens, always contemplating the noblest aspect worthy of admiration. It was the delicacy of one rose, or the vivid colouring of another, the pleated petals of a carnation, or the sweet fragrance wafting from some other bloom.
In this way, pondering the countless fine points of everyday life, she kept her mind always turned to higher things.
Coming upon a garden whose flora pushed past the boundaries of the fence surrounding it, allowing some beautiful little flower to bend over within her reach, she would examine it with delight, inhale its scent and comment upon it to her son. He would agree, but thought that his mother’s soul was much fairer than the flower itself.
Essentially, with her detailed, articulate and wonder-filled commentaries, Dona Lucilia was making implicit allusion to the Divine Creator of these little marvels.
Final visit to “her” Sacred Heart of Jesus Church
It had been a long time since she had visited Sacred Heart of Jesus Church, the place where she felt so at home, the setting for so many conversations with Our Lord, and which she referred to as “my” church.2One day, Dr. Plinio proposed taking her to this shrine to pray as long as she wished. She immediately accepted the invitation.
Dona Lucilia’s unspeakably respectful intimacy with her Divine Master took on its warmest hues when she crossed that sacred threshold. The solemn and sacral atmosphere of this church lends itself to meditation and reflection, for which the pleasing proportion between the height, width and length of the beautiful structure all contribute.
The stained-glass fills the church with an agreeably diffused and multi-toned luminosity. There is a hint of balsam in the air; the discreet aroma of perfumed olive oil gives a note of gravity and affability to the setting, which seems to “whisper” to the faithful: “You have suffered, and you will suffer yet more. But here you will find solace. Such is life! Yet within these walls you will find aid in your suffering.” This church also harmonically communicates an assurance of relief, of help, and the favouring of conditions that bring Christian joy.
The grave yet kindly countenances of the images emerging from the shadows soothe and protect those who look to them.
At the front of the lateral nave, on the Gospel side, is found the expressive statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus: sacral, dignified, serene, and compassionate, but sorrowful because of man’s ingratitude.
On the opposite side, that of the Epistle, is the pure white statue of Our Lady Help of Christians – triumphant, virginal, pure, gracious, kind, and also compassionate. The supernatural inner harmony of the sublime soul of the Virgin Mother of God seems to overflow from this image.
This church could be called a true treasury of blessings in which grace seems to be shed like a fine rain, a light mist that spreads out and covers souls like dew…
A recollected pilgrimage
Stepping into the church accompanied by her son, Dona Lucilia devoutly made her way to the various altars, although every step cost her dearly. She prayed at length. From time to time, she could be seen beseeching forgiveness, discreetly striking her breast. She paused with special emphasis before the image of Our Lady Help of Christians.
Then she crossed over to the other side, making a deep bow before the tabernacle of the main altar where the Blessed Sacrament was reserved, as her physical condition did not permit her to genuflect. Afterwards, she paused for a long time at the foot of the statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
Here was the focal point of Dona Lucilia’s interior life. Her soul sighed to meet the final end of its own affection in her Divine Redeemer, and so ardent was her longing that had she not known Him, she would have sought Him. And having found Him, she would have immediately recognized Him as the One whom she had sought.
In Dona Lucilia’s long meditations before that statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, which symbolized all that He suffered in His Passion for the sins of men, she was modelling her soul according to her Divine Master.
Concluding her pious colloquy with Our Lord, Dona Lucilia then moved on to the grouping of sculptures located near the end of the left aisle (on the Epistle side), representing the finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple among the Doctors of the Law.
For almost fifty years now she had prayed insistently before this figure of the Divine Child requesting abundant graces for her son, that he might be victorious in his struggle for perseverance and sanctification, as well as in his ideological combats against the enemies of the Church.
Dona Lucilia a few years before her death; previous page, Sacred Heart of Jesus Shrine in São Paulo
With her gaze, Dona Lucilia paid her respects to the other images, and surveyed the stained glass windows whose coloured light tinged the columns on the left side and the magnificent organ along the back wall. Then, with a contented soul, she took her leave, leaning on the arm of her filhão.
It had been a visit of farewell and preparation for eternity. When they left, the sun was emitting its last golden rays; they had spent several hours within the church.
Within the atmosphere of the Sacred Heart
At the foundation of Lucilian goodness we find an inner identity with the Sacred Heart of Jesus, which conveyed the immensity of Our Lord’s love to others, as if with the words: “See, there are so many reasons to trust Him. Ask, for you will be heard; the gates of mercy are open to you.”
In imitation of the Sacred Heart of Jesus pierced by the spear of Longinus, Dona Lucilia knew how to point out a fault to a wrongdoer with firm and compassionate affection. The statue’s lips seem to issue the admonition: “Look at what all sin means – what men are doing. Look at the sea of sin into which humanity is casting itself! Are you going to join the cohort of those who offend Me?”
It was a kindness that did not favour moral laxity, but rather true compunction and perfect awareness. It was an eminently upright and virtuous kindness, proper to the balance of a Roman, Catholic and Apostolic soul.
Dona Lucilia lived immersed within this atmosphere surrounding the Sacred Heart of Jesus, pierced with sorrow for man’s sins, and filled with the desire to forgive them. Just as a good disciple somehow resembles his Master, it could often be observed that she inwardly lamented, deplored, suffered and forgave, in unison with the Sacred Heart of Jesus. ◊
Taken, with adaptations, from:
Dona Lucilia. Città del Vaticano- Nobleton: LEV;
Heralds of the Gospel,2013, p.605-608
Notes
1 Street in the Higienópolis neighbourhood in São Paulo.
2 Shrine of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, located in the Campos Elíseos neighbourhood.
