On Thursday morning, January 29, it was the feast day of St. Francis de Sales, gentle patron saint of journalists. I had cleaned my pipe and had lighted it for my morning walk when a German soldier entered with a new order. I had to hand over tobacco and cigars, pipe and matches. I was not allowed to smoke any more.
Luckily I happened to think of the mild Francis de Sales, otherwise, I might have said something unkind. I emptied my pipe and gave it up. The soldier said in pity that it was not his fault. I understood. To comfort me, he said that I could keep the other things—books, paper, and so on—which is very fortunate. They will profit me more, though I miss my pipe and cigar. I deleted “smoking” from the daily timetable and the day went on.
Blessed Titus Brandsma
Letter from Scheveningen Prison
Saturday 31 January 1942
I wish I had been clicking on links to see the full articles before! I have just downloaded 21 pages of his letters. What treasures!!!
Aren’t they, though? That’s why we share those links… so that our readers can do the “deep dive”
Many thanks, I will do more of it now.
“…and the day went on.” Wow, what serene acceptance – the other face of the next day’s post on the Magnificat. Accepting the things we cannot change, but ‘going to town’ to change those we can, under God, seems to be the message… as in the famous prayer; “trusting that He will make all things right, if I do but surrender to His Will…” I love the unassuming, “…I happened to think of…” – that “happened to” was the fruit of many hours of solitary spiritual reading of the Saint, in meditative prayer, I have no doubt at all, in his own room hidden from acclaim, in Carmelite fashion. And still he doesn’t mention it.
Blessed Titus teaches us what detachment really looks like, spiritually.