Until the time that the Oblates began to receive new members in the foreign missions in the late 1840’s, Eugene had a personal relationship with each of his missionary sons. In his correspondence we constantly see how he loved and watched over them with a father’s heart. When one of them contracted a life-threatening illness, Eugene would drop his activities to spend time as much time as possible at his bedside and keep vigil. In the case of some of the young ones who he had known and guided since their adolescence, he had a deeper bond extending over many years. Marius Suzanne was one of these who was very special to him. Unable to be with him at the beginning of his serious illness, Eugene wrote to Hippolyte Courtès:
I write to comfort my heart, being unable to be at the place and beside the bed of our sick one so as to take care of him. I think only of him and it is with more painful feelings than when I see him.
I pray and have prayers said but I would need above all to ask for and obtain resignation. It costs me nothing when it is for my own sake but for you and whatever concerns you it is another matter.
Letter to Hippolyte Courtès, 16 February 1827, EO VII n 262
Struggling to resign himself and accept the situation, he invites others to pray with him.
“Prayer is an act of love; words are not needed. Even if sickness distracts from thoughts, all that is needed is the will to love.” Saint Teresa of Avila
If ever there was a man who knew his heart, the depth of it; whose self-awareness freed him to give himself in great love – it was Eugene. “I write to comfort my heart, being unable to be at the place and beside the bed of our sick one so as to take care of him. I think only of him and it is with more painful feelings than when I see him.” This is what an open heart looks like, the image of a great love.
I came here this morning empty but glad, knowing and expecting that here God would give me something to focus on, would open my eyes to myself a little wider. The title alone allowed my heart a small leap of joy. Reading and thinking of the solid truth of what Eugene is saying and describing. There are times when prayer becomes many words and others when there are no words. Prayer becomes the breath of our being, who we are and how we live. An image appears before my thoughts that is like a great light being turned on. The image I have this moment in my prayer is of a picture (I do not know the artist but the picture can be found in many Oblate houses) of Jesus on the cross looking down and below is water, a lake and a boat. I am sure that with myself on the ground there beside the boat that if I were to look up at the very eyes of Jesus looking down at me I would look directly into the eyes of love, full of compassion and an invitation to enter into… If ever there was an act of love for others most surely this is it. Prayer, more than just a plea for help, it is an entering into…
This morning not a time to dwell on the imperfection of my prayer but rather a time to be grateful; to look up into those eyes and enter in and just be.