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Tuesday August
27
Feast
of Saint Monica
mother of Saint Augustine
Mass readings for St Monica |
The day was now approaching when my mother Monica would
depart from this life. She and I happened to be standing by ourselves at
a window that overlooked the garden in the courtyard of the house. At
the time we were in Ostia on the Tiber. And so the two of us, all alone,
were enjoying a very pleasant conversation. We were asking one another
what it would be like to share the eternal life enjoyed by the saints
You know, O Lord, that in the course of our conversation that day, the
world and its pleasures lost all their attraction for us. My mother
said, “Son, as far as I am concerned, nothing in this life now gives
me any pleasure. I do not know why I am still here, since I have no
further hopes in this world. I did have one reason for wanting to live a
little longer: to see you become a Catholic Christian before I died. God
has lavished his gifts on me in that respect, for I know that you have
even renounced earthly happiness to be his servant. So what am I doing
here?”
I do not really remember how I answered her. Shortly, within five days
or thereabouts, she fell sick with a fever. Then one day during the
course of her illness she became unconscious and for a while she was
unaware of her surroundings. My brother and I rushed to her side, but
she regained consciousness quickly. She looked at us as we stood there
and asked in a puzzled voice: “Where was I?” We were overwhelmed
with grief, but she held her gave steadily upon us, and spoke further:
“Here you shall bury your mother.” I remained silent as I held back
my tears. However, my brother haltingly expressed his hope that she
might not die in a strange country but in her own land, since her end
would be happier there. When she heard this, her face was filled with
anxiety, and she reproached him with a glance because he had entertained
such earthly thoughts. Then she looked at me and spoke: “Look what he
is saying.” Thereupon she said to both of us, “Bury my body wherever
you will; let not care of it cause you any concern. One thing only I ask
you, that you remember me at the altar of the Lord wherever you may
be.” Once our mother had expressed this desire as best she could, she
fell silent as the pain of her illness increased. - from the Confessions
of Saint Augustine
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