When the door closed, Frau Frieda broke down in tears. Her last portion of barley had just been taken, the only food left to sustain her and her young niece. Where could she turn for help now? Little Sofia had the solution!
A mixture of excitement and joy had taken hold of the village. Families hurried to put their houses in perfect order for the arrival of the preachers, and children eagerly decked the trees with little coloured ribbons. It was the custom in this little village lost amid the mountains to adorn itself with jubilation to hail the annual missions week with all due pomp. The missions were a time of processions in honour of the Blessed Virgin, special Masses and sermons, and a great renewal of piety and devotion among the villagers.
Watching the hustle and bustle from her window, Frau Frieda let out a deep sigh. She could not forget the good old times when she herself had organized the preparations on her street… But now, the years of struggle and work had so drained her health that she could scarcely stir from her home. Ever since her husband died, victim to a terrible epidemic, she had toiled diligently to gain a living for herself and her nine-year-old niece, Sofia, who had also lost her loved ones in those fateful days. Sofia was a delightful child, whose heart, sorely tried by suffering, had become generous and resigned in the face of the greatest difficulties. And it seemed that her troubles were far from over…
Leaving aside her nostalgia and her memories, Frau Frieda turned away from the window to survey the poor interior of her home. It had few worn pieces of furniture, two or three pots hanging upon the wall – dusty from lack of use – an old table with backless stools, and two simple beds. The only food remaining for them to live on was a bit of barley, which would probably be used up in that night’s supper. “Well,” thought the poor woman, “we have nothing left but confidence in God and His Blessed Mother …” In the most difficult moments of her life, she had always prayed, and Providence had never abandoned her. But now she was indeed in a desperate situation. Where could she turn for help? This was the question that was weighing upon her mind when a cheerful Sofia interrupted her thoughts:
“Hello, dear Auntie Frieda! I brought you something for our little altar!”
And, offering a spray of wildflowers, somewhat wilted from the heat, she gave her aunt a big hug. At that moment, Frau Frieda thought to herself: God would never abandon a heart so pure and generous.
Her train of thought was again broken, this time by three loud knocks on the door… who could it be? Opening it, she encountered a friar of venerable appearance:
“Good afternoon, Madam! We are collecting food for the most needy. We will distribute baskets with the donations at the end of the missions. Would you be able to contribute?”
“Oh, no… I am sorry, Father, but we are poor, too, and don’t have anything to give…”
“But, Auntie – interrupted the girl – We mustn’t lie! We do have food… are you forgetting the barley?”
And, before her aunt could say a word, Sofia ran to fetch the almost empty sack.
“Here you are, Father! It’s not very much, but believe me, it comes from the heart!” said the little girl, presenting her meagre offering to the missionary.
The friar gave his blessing, thanked them for their generosity and carried on his way.
Frau Frieda could not contain her tears. This was too much for her! The other poor folk could count on help from the friars, but who would come to their aid?
“Don’t cry, Auntie; let’s pray a Rosary and ask Our Lady to send an Angel to save us!”
Swallowing her grief with an effort, Frau Frieda accepted the proposal. They sat before the little shrine of the Virgin Mary and set to praying fervently.
While this scene unfolded at poor Frau Frieda’s home, a very different one was playing out, not far off down the road…
“Oh, come on, Burly! Come on! Let’s go! Let’s go!”
In vain, Lawrence shouted at his donkey, which had come to a stubborn standstill due to the over-heavy burden on its back. The exasperated fellow had gotten leave from his employer to visit his family in the neighbouring village and was trying to take along a huge basket he had filled with the finest and most varied foods.
However, Burly refused to budge in any direction… With that, Lawrence plainly saw that he could not continue his journey without giving up the basket, and just then he recalled little Sofia, whom he had spotted short moments ago picking flowers in the field.
He once again pulled at the disobedient donkey’s reins, and, seeming to guess his good intentions, the animal now relaxed its stiffened legs and lumbered off towards Frau Frieda’s house.
Soon, another three knocks on the door interrupted the recitation of the Rosary at the humble woman’s house.
“It’s the Angel!” cried Sofia, full of innocent confidence.
Mystified, Frau Frieda went to answer the door while Sofia peeked out from behind her, somewhat awed at the thought of coming face to face with an Angel… But she only saw Lawrence who, in a few words, explained that he wanted – in fact needed – to give them the load that was making his trip impossible.
No sooner had the visitor hauled in the basket and placed it on the table than Frau Frieda burst into tears, and Sofia, jumping for joy, told Lawrence everything that had happened. He was struck the little girl’s faith and his donkey’s well-timed halt. And, realizing that Our Lady, loving Protector of the helpless, had made use of him to remedy that sad situation, Lawrence was so touched that he, too, shed a few tears.
As the mountain peaks surrounding the village were gilded by the final rays of sunlight, Frau Frieda watched the good Lawrence depart, mounted on his plodding donkey. And she rendered thanks to The Blessed Virgin: “I thank Thee, my Mother, for once again proving that, even in the worst situations, God never forsakes those who trust in His care!” ◊
