's
explanations: one thought only filled my mind--I must reach the
arena.

We are told in the Gospel that St. Mary Magdalen remained close to
the Sepulchre and stooped down constantly to look in; she was
rewarded by seeing two Angels. So, like her, I kept stooping down
and I saw, not two Angels, but what I was in search of. I uttered
a cry of joy and called out to my sister: "Come, follow me, we
shall be able to get through." We hurried on at once, scrambling
over the ruins which crumbled under our feet. Papa, aghast at our
boldness, called out to us, but we did not hear.

As the warriors of old felt their courage grow in face of peril,
so our joy increased in proportion to the fatigue and danger we
had to face to attain the object of our desires. Celine, more
foreseeing than I, had listened to the guide. She remembered that
he had pointed out a particular stone marked with a cross, and had
told us it was the place where the Martyrs had fought the good
fight. She set to work to find it, and having done so we threw
ourselves on our knees on this sacred ground. Our souls united in
one and the same prayer. My heart beat violently when I pressed my
lips to the dust reddened with the blood of the early Christians.
I begged for the grace to be a martyr for Jesus, and I felt in the
depths of my heart that my prayer was heard. All this took but a
short time. After collecting some stones we approached the walls
once more to face the danger. We were so happy that Papa had not
the heart to scold us, and I could see that he was proud of our
courage.

From the Coliseum we went to the Catacombs, and there Celine and I
laid ourselves down in what had once been the tomb of St. Cecilia,
and took some of the earth sanctified by her holy remains. Before
our journey to Rome I had not felt any special devotion to St.
Cecilia, but on visiting the house where she was martyred, and
hearing her proclaimed "Queen of harmony"--because of the sweet
song she sang in her heart to her Divine Spouse--I felt more than
devotion towards her, it was real love as for a friend. She became
my chosen patroness, and the keeper of all my secrets; her
abandonment to God and her boundless confidence delighted me
beyond measure. They were so great that they enabled her to make
souls pure which had never till then desired aught but earthly
pleasures.

St. Cecilia is like the Spouse in the Canticles. I find in her the
Scriptural "choir in an armed camp."[10]