TOM DONNELLAN'S ROSARY

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXV, Issue 48, 28 November 1907, Page 5

TOM DONNELLAN'S ROSARY

,•„ 1 Donnellans lived in a comfortable farmhouse set low h?n a Ut i% COUn .J- r £ J« st . at base of the WickwL 11' x J h +t a dlstant view of the sea shimmering bluely through the trees and shrubs that grew before the porched hal Moor. They had a- broad farm of many acies, and the trim little homestead, with its tiny lawn its wide, snowy-curtainod windows framed in ?a-^? a -^ ng roses awd wo o*ine, its flower-beds filled iTi£ +« DS ?S m ° f + every hue and variet y, gatve' a s-afe the M.JSU fatness and cleanliness prevailing within -tne house, as well as to the care and unremitting labors bestowed on the farm outside. unremitting

Mrs. Donnellan was a pleasant-faced woman, who though well past middle age, in her bright eyes and fresh complexion— 'the, result of long years of -early hours and a busy, happy life largely spent in the open, amongst her calves and poultry, her bees and flowers' and vegetables — still bore traces of the youthful tte&uty which had caught Tom Donnellan's heart thirty short yea,rs ago and held, it captive ever since. She felt herself to be a very lucky woman, and thanked Crod every day in her heart and on her knees for "Rer . • pleasant home, her good husband, her five tall, strapping sons, and the little blue-eyed daughter that had been the last and best of heaven's gifts to them. And yet, despite all their prosperity and comfort, she had one great " care, one great sorrow which, though she , seldom "spoke of it— and then only to little Eily and* to Patrick, her eldest and wisest boy— kept constantly gnawing at the heart of her happiness. Little Eily Donnellan was the one great treasure of her parents' lives. Coming as she did, the long-wished-for girl, at a long interval after her five- big brothers, she seemed to Mrs. Donnellan to have teen sent as a special gift from God in answer to her prayers. Tom Donnellan had not prayed for her, had - not known, indeed, the need of a- daughter . Yet her coming had made all the difference to him, and as he strode hoire from his work in the evening, the sight of the dainty little maiden who came down the shady boreen, fringed with ferns and primroses and violets and a myriad wild flowers, running with glad outstretched arms to meet him, seemed to her loving father's eyes a vision almost too sweet and beautiful to be real. But this was Mrs. Dohnella'n's sorrow : ■ her husband, such a good and tender husband, the loving father of her children, and himself the child of , pious Catholic parents, was yet that pitiful thing, an unbeliever. Unfortunately for himself this man, born and reared on , kindly Irish soil, had felt in his youth ' the curse of Hhe wandering foot.' Discontented with his surroundings, he had left Ireland while -yet in his teens, « and had travelled through England and America, where, , through increasing- neglect of his religious duties and constant intercourse with men of little or no belief, he came at last to forget the faith of his fathers, and to look on the tenets of the old religion as the merest rank 'Superstition. Tired of his wanderings, and finding little peace or contentment wherever he went, he returned at length to the country of his birth and bought a comfortable farm with the savings of his years abroad. And when the gentle Eileen Hennessy, an-" old neighbor's daughter, whom he remembered as a little flaxen-haired girl ten years his junior before he went away, consented after a swift wooing to become his- bride, Tomi Donmellan felt that indeed he had aIL the heaven he wanted. Owing to his industry and practical use of up-to-date lessons in farming acquired abroad, things prospered with him' from the beginning: Yet he never ' darkened a church door, ' never went to Mass or the Sacraments, never knelt down morning or evening to thianfe God' fpa: His mercies, or tio ask Him for a "blessing or- forgiveness. Even his going to chapel to be married by a Catholic priest had been more or less of a concession to the conventions, granted all the more readily since he lcnew_that Eily could not otherwise become his wife. He never interfered with her religious beliefs ; yet he disliked finding her on her knees, and expressed once or twice an irritable wish • that she and . the boys would get their praying done while he was out of sight and hearing. As the boys grew up, he even sometimes thought himself weakly "' good-natured in allowing them to accompany their mother to Mass. But with Eily it was different. Religion, he argued, was meant for women ; and what, after all, would they be without it ? Of his many good qualities— and not his worst enemy could deny that Tom Donnellan was a good man, brave, honest, pure living, industrious, kindly though strict with those about him— not the least lovable was a great reverence towards women, a •loving tenderness for children and all things weak and helpless. The little girl who of all his children was nearest and dearest to his heart, seemed at times an -angel-vision too fair and lovely for any earthly home. And now as he farmed his broad acres and tended his cattle with increasing care, he put fresh heart into his work because of his Eily, for whom more than any of the others the fruits of his labor mus% henceforth be laid by. The little girl grew up slender and beautiful, with winsome happy ways made none the" less cheerful and bright because of a very real piety and a- strong sense of duty inculcated 'by her* mother's teachings. Mrs. Donnellan had a great devotion to the Holy Rosary,

and whilst all the boys their sister were yet young, had made it a custom that they and she should ' every morning recite the Rosary for- - a special intention, which intention, she arid Eily alone knew, was that God might bring back the heart -of. the^iusband and father once "more to Himself . Lest the hearing of it should -annoy or inconvenience 'him in any way, they always took care to get this devotion over while the father _ was yet out in the fields. Sometimes .he caught .the whisper of the .murmuring voices 'as he passed by the parlor window, and the sound latterly, since Eily had 1 grown so dear to him, filled him- somehow with a new sense of loneliness. When Eily was jataout fifteen, a great sorrow, the -keenest he had ever known, came into Tom Donnellan's life. The child was suddenly stricken ill ; some strain or hurt, contracted they could not tell how, affected bedside _jnd kept her in bed_week after~ week, month after month. , That happened to be a very warm .summer, and the great beat and the close confinement to her room 1 weakened and wasted the frail young body, till at last ,she seemed the merest shadow of herself. "With anxious, miserable 'forebodings, her father watchedrher from day to day. There was the taint of consumption in his own family ; his sister Mary, when about Eily's age, had faded out of life just in the same way that his" dear little "girl seemed now likely to do. During those weeks- when he was not at Eily's bted- . side, he wandered about the- fields like one half-idazed with sorrow and fear. The farm, his yet unfilled haggard, his prize, cattle, his thoroughbred horse and foal, all had -ceased to interest him. Where was the use of anything if Eily were to go ? With a stifled groan of agony he stole to the door of her room', feeling a sudden fresh stab of " pain as the murmuring, voices, rising- and falling in prayer within, sank into silence at the sound of his knock. His wife got up from her knees as he entered, the pale face of his little girleen seemed filled with a sudden confusion and alaxm. Stung " with a new sense -of self-reproach, he flung himself on his. knees at the hfedside, taking the two little hands, reluctant for once to meet-, his,, into his own. Around the thin white fingers the beads -of her Rosary -were twined, in her soft moist little palm a slender silver crucifix lay hidden. With a pitiful, heart-broken civy he. let his head drop, covering hands, crucifix, and- all with tender, remorseful kisses. 'Go on, go on, my pet ! ' he said" at last. " ' You must not stop your prayers for me. Let me 'say them with you, child— if I only remember- how ! ' A strange look of happiness came into the young) face, lying so white on its pillows, flushing it to a delicate wild-rose color. ' That .will be beautiful, father,' she said. ' Shall I begin it again ? Mother and I were only at the first mystery.' - He nodded assent, and she began. As he listened to the sweet girlish, voice, ringing with a new sound of joy and happiness, and dwelt with a mind as collected -as might be on each wonderful mystery, repeating the 'Paters ' and ' Ayes ' " unforgotten of his youth, the whole joy and peace, the purity and tender solace of the religion he had cast aside came back as if borne on angel wings, and settled down on his soul. That was but the 'first of 'many Rosaries which' Eily's father offered up' for his child's restoration to health. , Every night from that onwards the entire family gathered round the sick girl's bed and said the Rosary in unison. In every beautiful mystery there was something to appeal to the 'man's, always kindly nature. As if in answer to his prayers, helped .doubtless by her own, and the ardent- joy which her father's new dispositions gave her, Eily's health improved from' that day forward with wonderful rapidity. Very soon she was able to go, first driving, then walking proudly oy her father s side, to Mass or Confession to the little chapel. lorn Donnellan is now the most earnest and exemplary of Father Dunphy's flock, while his daughter is as healthy and blooming a specimen of young Irish maidenhood as may be found in any three parishes. All this Mrs. Donnellan puts down to one thing only, the wonderful power and efficacy of the Rosary. There is little fear, either, that th» pious custom will ever be allowed to lapse in their house, for sometimes when Eily ouirof roguishness pretends to be forgetting; all afcout it her father, will delight her by asking, with a half-reproach-ful glance, as he lays aside his book or newspaper : . Now, Eily, my love, isn't it about time we'd think of . saying the Rosary ? '— « Irish Messenger '

- • The publication of an advertisement In a Catholic paper shows that the advertiser not only desires the patronage of Catholics, but pays them the compliment of seeking it through the medium of > their, own relipious journal.' So says an esteemed and wide-awake American contemporary. A word to the wise is sufficient....