The Life of the Venerable Maria Margit Bogner,
a Religious of the Visitation of Holy Mary of Erd, Hungary 1905–1933
A Violet in the Odor of Sanctity
Translated from the Spanish by a Visitandine
Declared venerable June 28, 2012
by Pope Benedict XVI
Spanish edition by The Monastery of the Visitation, Manizales, Colombia entitled Una violeta en olor de santidad
Notice:
The following pages offer the reader a testimony of the life of a religious of the Visitation, who lived in this century in her native land of Hungary. The text has been composed based on the writings of Laszlo Balassy and complemented with the first biography of the Servant of God, written in Hungarian, by her spiritual Father Elemér Csavossy, SJ, and translated under the title A Tomb near the Danube.
In this way it is hoped that the reader will attain the proper knowledge of the spiritual life of Sister Maria Margit Bogner, all of it consisting in “To believe in Love,” which is so necessary for every Christian in our time when it is necessary to say once again: “Love is not loved.”
With ecclesiastical approbation
On the banks of the Danube, in the state of Fejér, there rise over the right bank, close to the Hungarian capital, the enchanting and delightful hills of Erd.
This land has witnessed the famous pagan festivals of Hamzsabeg, the Turkish “pascua,” and the long martyrdom of the heroic Szapáry. On the hill on which rises the old castle, one sees next to the road that leads to the Visitation of Holy Mary, a modest tomb, always covered with flowers, even during the winter months, a symbol of that eternal spring for which the one whose remains rest here departed. This tomb is like a victorious sentinel that stands guard before the rich plain that extends at its feet near the majestic river running below these green hills and close to the capital, so close that one can see the chimneys and towers. There stands out a small cross with a white plaque that reads: “Here rests Sister Maria Margit Bogner who died on May 13, 1933 at the age of 27.”
In spite of its simplicity, this tomb is like the glorious monument of the victory of the soul of her whose body rests here. It seems as if this freed soul hovers over this region, counting the souls for whom she was the spiritual mother through her prayers, her sacrifices, her charity, her sufferings, and above all through her union with Jesus. With the Little Flower of Lisieux, this humble religious of the Visitation could say of herself “I become a mother of souls through my mystical union with You.”
This zeal for souls was one of the driving forces of her life. It was the legacy she left upon earth with the fulfillment of her ardent desire: “To see Him–Him.” It was thus that she called Him, the Beloved, the mystical Spouse of souls. “We always knew of Whom she was speaking when she said with ardent voice: ‘He’–It was Jesus!” She left us this thirst for souls as a legacy when she left this earth. Before her death she distributed her spiritual goods to those whom she loved. When they named her director she responded, “I leave him my zeal for souls.”
She was the first Hungarian to enter the Monastery of Thurnfeld in Austria, from whence she would return with her sisters and well-loved superior to found the Hungarian Visitation. She was the first to die in this foundation, the first flower which the eternal Father picked from this garden in order to adorn his celestial throne.
**** ****
The ancient biographers of the saints, willingly embellish their heroes with extraordinary gifts from their infancy, even inventing them, and they come close to transforming them into personages who did nothing except pray from the beginning of their childhood, living like disembodied spirits. This was not the case with Sister Maria Margit Bogner.
She left this life about 50 years ago surrounded by an aureola of sanctity. The process of Beatification, begun from that moment and which was only interrupted due to the war, continues to move forward.
They come to her tomb from foreign lands, such as the young man who came from the Carpatica Ukraine with his family to realize an old dream, or the theology student from Vienna who wrote his doctoral dissertation on Sister Maria Margit. And these are but a few examples among many, because the veneration that is shown her extends to countries much further away, not only in Yugoslavia, Austria, Belgium, France and Italy, but also in America and China.
Monsignor Angelo Rotta, who was the Apostolic Nuncio in Hungary for many years, one day said that “he was waiting for the grace that this soul, chosen by the Sacred Heart, would obtain for him.”
It was a real event during the International Eucharistic Congress in Budapest in 1938 when Cardinal Pacelli, Vatican Secretary of State and Pontifical Legate (the future Pius XII) evoked the memory of Sister Maria Margit. In his opening allocation, he expressed his happiness in sharing the pious hope of seeing beatified this soul, so pure, who was elevated by her Eucharistic fervor to a great height of holiness.
Besides these homages by the highest ecclesiastical authorities, we could still cite numerous publications from as early as 1940, such as “Marian Flowers,” and a quantity of articles by the press during that period. According to testimonials, numerous graces have been obtained through her intercession.
Her first biography was written by her spiritual father, Rev. Elemér Csavossy, SJ. A Tomb near the Danube has been published in several editions, all of them out of print. Her spiritual Diary and her correspondence have also been published.
Lastly, Maria Puskeli, has dealt with her life in the book, To Believe in Love, published first in Rome in 1975, then in Budapest with the edition of the Association of Saint Stephen (Szent Istvan Tarsultat), which has also published another edition of her Diary.
If one observes attentively the itinerary of Sr Maria Margit, one will recognize in it the way in which God forms souls and submits them to His good pleasure, whether it be by trials or by consolations. This thought of St. Francis de Sales accommodates itself perfectly to the life of Sister Maria Margit.
**** ****
Adelaide (Etelka) Bogner (her name before entering the Order of the Visitation) was born on December 15, 1905 in Melencze, then in the department of Torental. As there was no Catholic church in this locality, whose population was mostly Orthodox, the little girl was baptized in the neighboring town in Német-Elemer, receiving the names of Adelaide Mary Ann.
Her father, John Bogner, notary of the town of his state, having lost his first wife, married Adelaide Schiller who lovingly educated the two children from the first marriage of her husband. Four children, two boys and two girls, were born from this second marriage, of whom Adelaide, who carried the name of her mother, was the eldest.
In 1906, her father was transferred to Torontal-Torda where Adelaide spent her childhood. Her parents were believers, but without any little devotions. Her mother had a realistic outlook on life. Her faith had nothing about it that was exaggerated. They went to church on Sundays and holy days. They gave a religious education to their children. As for the rest, they lived the same life as any other middle class family.
In the autumn of 1914, something serious occurred in the family. The children were attacked by a violent case of scarlet fever and Adelaide’s younger sister died. Adelaide recovered her health and it appeared that she had not suffered any consequences.
On April 11, 1915, with great joy, she made her First Communion. But a few months later, some disquieting signs appeared. Her right leg was very bad and she could not bend her knee. The doctor diagnosed coxal osteitis (inflammation of the hip). She had to remain in bed for 10 months with a sandbag weighing 3 kilos suspended from her leg. The hour of the first test had arrived but the little10-year-old girl accepted it valiantly.
She exercised an admirable patience in her illness: no complaint ever escaped her lips. Her teacher, Maria Strausz, whom she loved so much, visited her regularly and the little student thus passed her fourth year of primary school, and her exam, in bed. She always kept her happy disposition. When her mother had some preoccupation, Adelaide would start singing in order to console her. She was very interested in singing. She also dedicated herself to small manual labors. She read and did drawings (she was very gifted in drawing and painting). At other times she played with her companions who often visited her. “The door of her room would open and right away a pillow would fly toward the one who was entering,” her cousin Sara Szakall would recount much later.
When she was able to get up, her leg remained in a cast for four months, and for several years she was unable to walk without a brace. In the end, her right leg would remain much shorter and inflexible for the rest of her life. But, her mother recounted, each time she went to church she would force herself to kneel, even on her infirm leg, before the Tabernacle, “since the Lord Jesus had also suffered.”
A new trial came on Octoer 17, 1915. Her father died in a sanatorium in Budapest. All the weight of responsibility for the family, all the care of providing for the necessities and education of the five children, fell on their mother. Little Adelaide helped her as much as she could: now dedicating herself to the household chores, now occupying herself with her two younger siblings. Her brother John took pleasure much later in remembering all the maternal cares with which his older sister surrounded his childhood.
In 1918 the family went to live in Nagybecskerek.
There, Adelaide finished her secondary studies in the home of the Teaching Sisters of our Lady . She applied herself to the study of French, German and even Serbo-Croatian. But, to be truthful, German was never to her liking. She also followed a business course and learned to type perfectly, which, much later, would be very useful in the convent.
In order to have some idea of her character, as her companions saw her, we cite some testimonies from them: “I will never forget the first time I saw her. It was in 1918, a very cloudy autumn day, when a new student entered our class. One would never have thought she was in the third year like the rest of us. Her small stature and weak aspect contrasted with the robust constitution of the rest of the students. She seemed to be a child. One could compare her to a flower. It was not in vain that she loved flowers because her soul was like a flower.”
“Intellectually, she was ahead of all of us. She was an exceptionally gifted child, of lively intelligence and of a very happy disposition. In a short time she came to be the favorite of the class. In music class, while the rest were singing, Adelaide and I would distract ourselves in the last row. One time, we made wedding invitations and placed them in all the desks. But it is better not to speak of what followed.”
On another occasion, Adelaide wrote on the board that there would not be any French class. And effectively, the class did not take place because all of the students, believing the note, returned to their homes. Meanwhile, she walked happily in the park with a girlfriend. No one knew who was the author of that notice.
She passionately loved fishing and she also secretly smoked. With her girlfriend she collected insects for bait which they exchanged for matches. For ten insects, the boys would give them a match and for ten matches a cigarette.
“One day when we wanted to buy flowers for our teacher, we found the old gardener asleep in the patio. Adelaide tickled him in the face with a handful of weeds until he woke up. She was always ready for pranks. She had an extraordinary gift for mimicking the manner of speaking and acting of people and we always had an audience that recognized her caricatures.” She was not just a mischievous young girl; her soul was full of virtues. She had a heart of gold. The sight of a poor person moved her profoundly. She loved her mother intimately. There was no daughter, sister, or friend more affectionate than she. She would sacrifice herself for her teacher. The affection to which her companions witnessed came from her heart. How many times she shared her lunch with a companion who was orphaned and poor. She loved without limits her two older siblings and the two younger, whom she called “big darlings” and “little darlings.”
It was necessary for us to mention these little anecdotes in order to better understand the two principal characteristics of her personality; on the one hand an overflowing serenity and joy that never took anything from the integrity of her character and, on the other, a love for all, without exception.
On June 1, 1923, Monsignor Pellegrinetti, the Apostolic Nuncio in Belgrade, administered the sacrament of Confirmation to her. The meaning of this sacrament appeared in a luminous way in the life of Adelaide through that virtue of Confirmation that makes us really adults causing us to become aware of our Christian maturity. The Holy Spirit had repeated in her that miracle of the first Pentecost, taking full possession of the soul of this young 18-year-old girl who heard very strongly and distinctly the call about which St. Francis de Sales speaks: “Jesus Christ, full of gentleness sweetly invites you saying: ‘Come, very beloved soul . . . Look at the Most Holy Virgin who invites you like a mother and says to you: ‘Courage, my daughter . . . Look at the Saints who exhort you and that multitude of holy souls who with great sweetness invite you desiring to see one day your heart united with those who eternally praise God, and they assure you that the road to Heaven is not as difficult as the world paints it. Have courage, they tell you, because if you consider well the road of love by which we have ascended, you will see that we have arrived at these delights by other delights incomparably more sweet than those of the world” (Introduction to the Devout Life, Part 1, Chapter 17).
From 1924 on, the spiritual life of Adelaide came to be more constant. She participated with fervor in evangelization through prayer. She attended Mass daily and received Holy Communion. She prayed with more confidence and confessed regularly to her Spiritual Director. On the other hand, she did not scorn the life of society. She liked to dress graciously and to entertain herself. She was not devoid of a certain coquettishness and a desire to please. Sometimes, being alert and joyful by nature, she provoked little tensions around her. She did this as a simple pastime, as her biographer Maria Puskely tells it. Also, her spiritual father, Father Elemer Csavossy, speaks of this period in the same terms: “It is possible that in this period there was some vanity in her soul, some desire of pleasing, a certain attraction for the amusements of the world, but this was only a superficial wave which did not reach the depths of her soul. Very quickly she recognized the end or goal of her life and with all her heart and with an exceptional strength of will, she committed herself to the way of perfection, a path she would not abandon from then on.”
From this illumination and of what passed in her soul before committing herself to this path, we know very little. In her Diary, on the date July 7, 1925, she speaks extensively of her “conversion” which would place it at the beginning of the same year. In the month of February, upon leaving church after some religious office, she saw at a distance her confessor. She ran toward him and reaching out her hand to him she said, “Never will I commit a venial sin.” Let us retain well these words. She did not speak of mortal sins. She never committed them. Therefore, she preserved her baptismal innocence until death.
The time arrives for each soul when God does not speak only through signs or trials, but manifests himself in his greatness and closeness. Then the soul is united to him in an irrevocable manner. From now on, this young woman constantly heard his call. She understood it and responded in an absolute manner.
At her “conversion” she pronounced two perpetual vows and one provisional: that of chastity and of striving toward perfection until her last breath and that of doing in all things that which seemed most pleasing in the eyes of God.
She changed this last provisional vow to a perpetual one on May 10, 1926. At the same time, she took as her motto, “Always faithful,” a motto that summarizes her whole life.
**** ****
On August 15, 1925, the feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, she wrote in her Diary the following lines: “Sacred Heart of Jesus, I offer you my whole life as a slow martyrdom, forever, irrevocably, through the Immaculate Virgin, Saint Joseph and Saint Ignatius Loyola. Amen.”
The words “slow martyrdom” are underlined with her blood. “It is significant,” as her Director points out, “that all these vows are offered to her heavenly Spouse through Saint Ignatius Loyola.” (Adelaide explained it in some lines written on July 31 of the same year: “It is the feast of Saint Ignatius Loyola whom I have chosen for my guide and spiritual Father. When my soul was struggling amidst great and strong tempests, he sustained me, he guided and prayed for me, he and the Virgin Immaculate, so that I would not succumb. My Jesus, with the Blessed Virgin, he has obtained for me, the infinite graces of your Sacred Heart, and also that you should give me as a spiritual guide a son of the Company” (Father Elemér was, in fact, a Jesuit).
Evoking the “great and strong tempests” of her soul, allows us to guess that giving a definitive answer to the call of God was not easy for her. She did not make these promises lightly, “by rote,” she did not make a show of having entered the way of perfection. She had to fight hard and ceaselessly. These few lines of her Diary reveal another essential element of her life: veneration of the Blessed Virgin, “a veneration which did not cease to grow as she advanced in the spiritual life” as Father Csavossy points out.
On March 25, 1926, feast of the Annunciation, she consecrated her body and soul to the Virgin Mary “as a slave” according to the spirit of Saint Louis Grignon de Montfort, a great apostle of Marian devotion.
On December 8 of the same year she directed these beautiful lines to the Blessed Virgin:
“My Mother and heavenly Virgin, this morning during the Holy Sacrifice, on this day of your Immaculate Conception,
I presented you to Him as an offering. When his Divine Heart beat in mine, his heartbeats greeted you, my blessed Mother. I prefer to die a million deaths rather than fail for an instant in my fidelity . . . My sweet Mother, the Immaculate Conception, you who have never been tarnished by the shadow of sin, when you see me assaulted by temptations remain at my side to protect me. Am I not yours? Have I not given myself to you forever and irrevocably as slave? From now on I will do nothing except by you, with you, in you and for you.”
In the course of the summer of 1925 she discovered the autobiography of St. Therese of Lisieux. “I have heard much spoken about the Little Flower of Lisieux. I thought I knew her life. Nevertheless, it is not so. Reading her autobiography, I have put my hands into hers, with confidence that she will guide me: ‘My path is sure.’ Yes, she invites all little souls to follow her–the littlest souls that cannot lift themselves to the flight of eagles. With joy I now have this new heavenly teacher and I listen to her lessons with a beating heart. She is always near me and she tells me how I should work.”
Adelaide became acquainted with St. Therese (beatified by Pope Pius XI in that same year) at the most important moment of her spiritual evolution. Apparently, this was not by chance but rather a new step in the precise plan established by God who wished that in this manner the little Adelaide should follow the “little way”toward perfection in the footsteps of Saint Therese.
HER VOCATION
From this moment on, events began to precipitate themselves. There awakened in her soul the desire to enter a religious order. Her delicate health and her crippled leg seemed as obstacles to all her projects. She assaulted heaven with her prayers. She begged her cure through the intercession of Saint Therese and Father Claude la Colombiere to the end of being admitted to Carmel.
Now that she had discovered her Carmelite vocation, she was confronted with temptations more terrible than ever before. In her Diary she wrote that ‘the Evil One’ lay siege against her with his fury in order to attack her by every means and form in order to destroy her peace of heart and transform her soul into a camp locked in battles and sufferings. This phenomenon is neither unheard-of nor rare in souls who tend to perfection because the state of grace constitutes a true challenge for Satan. Let us only think of Saint John Marie Vianney. One day he told his confessor that always on the eve of the days on which he would affect some very notable conversion, the Evil One redoubled his attacks against him. “Last night, Satan bothered me,” he said one day to one of his friends, “which must mean many souls tomorrow.”
In the life of Adelaide there also came closer, though at the time she had no knowledge of it, the realization of her most wanted desire: the religious life. Therefore, the Evil One judged that the moment had arrived to launch a decisive attack. But Adelaide resisted the test and came out victorious. “It is a good sign,” says Saint Francis de Sales, “when the enemy howls and screams at the door, because this signals that he has not gained what he wanted. If he had, he would not cry out; he would enter and stay.” (Complete Works, vol. XII, p. 356–letter to Saint Jane de Chantal.)
This struggle was so strong that it exhausted her and left her as if paralyzed. In that state, writes her biographer Maria P., she made the gift of herself to the Blessed Virgin. Nevertheless, the so hoped for miracle did not happen. Adelaide did not lose hope. She continued to pray, not only for her cure, but that she would do the will of God. She directed this prayer to the Lord: ‘You who penetrate the depths of hearts know how desolate I am on saying: ‘may your will be done…’You on the cross and I beneath it. I lift my eyes to you, and your glance finds me below and you arouse in my soul a real fire and this fire will never be extinguished because from now on I will only look at You and thus the martyrdom of life will be easier.”
Her director was certain of her vocation and tried to get her admitted to the English Sisters. The Superior welcomed her kindly, but the result of her medical exam was negative: “because of her very delicate health Adelaide Bogner would only persevere a few months.”
She returned home and her moral suffering, as her Diary witnesses, was almost insupportable. “I love you, my Jesus,” she wrote, “I give myself to you for ever. I only want what You want.”
At this time, she made a novena to Saint Therese, begging her for a sign that would indicate if some day she would be admitted to religious life. It was then that she dreamed she saw herself dead, very young, in a flaming chapel and dressed as a religious. She only told this dream to her cousin, asking her to keep it secret. Her own mother learned of it only after her death.
To all of these exterior obstacles were added spiritual trials. We have already seen what terrible struggles she underwent at the time of her “conversion.”
On May 18, 1926, embracing the cross, she made the perpetual vow of following Jesus and avoiding the slightest faults, doing always what was most pleasing to Him.
At the beginning of 1927 she fell ill with Spanish flu followed by pleurisy. In order to recuperate, she spent several months in the home of some relatives in Zsidopuszta in the state of Baranya where on a few occasions she had vacationed with her mother.
During this time, her spiritual Father who was the superior for the Hungarian province of the Jesuits visited the Monastery of the Visitation of Thurnfeld (Tirol) and proposed to the Superior Mother Maria Margit Bohm, of Hungarian descent on her father’s side, the foundation of a Visitation monastery in Hungary. The proceedings in that regard continued between Hungary and Thurnfeld. Here Divine Providence worked marvelously. Father Csavosasy brought up the question of the eventual entrance of Adelaide in the Order.
The Superior did not reject the idea and promised to do all that was possible in order to admit the young woman.
A letter from her director communicated the good news to Adelaide: “You are admitted to the Visitation of Thurnfeld.” Her happiness was great. Her Divine Spouse had recompensed all her sacrifices.
Considering things well we observe that all that happened to Sister Maria Margit–first her illness; then the transfer of her Director to Nagybecskerek when he was only a simple ecclesiastic, so many obstacles overcome thanks to her unwavering vocation, the victories obtained over temptations, all the sufferings endured with greatness of soul–all this had a precise meaning. It was written in a plan, the plan of God, where everything is intimately linked.
The first superior and foundress of the Monastery of Erd, Mother Maria Margit Bohm said much later that Providence had revealed itself in a manner so admirable in the vocation of Adelaide that one could say that the Monastery had been founded just so Adelaide could enter. And Father Csavossy adds: “Her holy life in the convent, her punctuality and fidelity in doing the smallest things and the generous and joyful way in which she served God and assimilated the spirit of the Order of the Visitation, all clearly proves that Providence had called her in order that she should carry out a fundamental mission in the foundation of the fist Monastery of the Visitation in Hungary, not so much by her exterior activity as by her example, her prayers and the sacrifice of her whole life.”
With regard to the Order of the Visitation, named such in reference to the mystery of the Visitation, it is necessary to know that it was founded by Saint Frances de Sales, Bishop of Geneva and by his spiritual daughter, Saint Jane Frances de Chantal, on June 6, 1610 in the city of Annecy in Savoy (now France).
The end of the founders is clear: “This congregation has been erected in such a way that no great austerities impede the weak and delicate from entering in order to consecrate themselves to the perfection of divine love.” Persons of “goodwill and strong constitution will have access as well as those who because of their age or some bodily defect cannot enter the more austere monasteries”; the spirit of the religious vocation is “a healthy disposition and being well-disposed to live in profound humility, obedience, simplicity, gentleness and submission.”
In the beginning the founders did not think that their monastery would be strictly enclosed; they planned that the sisters could leave, according to very precise rules, to visit the poor and the sick. In 1616, with the establishment of a Monastery of the Visitation in Lyons, the Archbishop Mons. de Marquement demanded that strict papal enclosure be imposed on the nuns. Saint Francis de Sales condescended to this transformation since the end of the Visitation remained safe: “to give to God daughters of prayer” that “they should consecrate themselves to the perfection of divine love.” In the middle of the seventeenth century, under the pressure of the addition of the education of young girls, they opened boarding schools in the monasteries.
After having been erected into a cloistered religious order (1616), the Visitation very quickly spread to France, then Italy . . . (at the death of Saint Jane de Chantal there were 85 monasteries) and rapidly became popular in all of Europe and even in America. Recently two monasteries have been founded in Africa. They have the same spirit which animated the beginnings of the Order.
A religious of this Order, in the second half of the seventeenth century, in Paray-le-monial, Saint Margaret Mary (chosen much later as the patron of our sister Maria Margit), had the privilege of receiving the revelations of the Sacred Heart.
IN THURNFELD, AUSTRIA
Near the ancient city of Hall, very rich in historical monuments, there rises the mountain Bettelwurf. At the foot of these grandiose rocks, one finds, surrounded by high walls, the peaceful property of Thurnfeld. In 1525 the canonesses of Saint Augustine owned it. That institution was founded by the Archduchess Magdalena. By a singular coincidence, she gave it the name of “Visitation” as if she had foreseen that one day the daughters of Saint Francis de Sales would inherit this property which had cost her so many cares and worries.
In 1859 the Monastery of the Visitation of Beuerberg bought the said property for a new foundation whose foundress was Mother Mary Peregrine Becker. (The Monastery of Thurnfeld still has the altar used by St. Peter Canisius, the apostle of Germany, when he celebrated the holy Mass in Hall.)
On August 6, 1927, Adelaide left the family home in order to head for Thurnfeld by way of Budapest and Vienna. She was accompanied by another young woman, Aranka Obrincsak, who also had asked to enter the Order of the Visitation. Her cousin related much later that Sister Maria Margit had not lost any of her sense of humor nor her wit as shown by the following anecdote. Seeing them, her cousin Ŝanika who arrived in Budapest with a carafe of wine, said to them: “Well, well! How beautiful! You have the gift to act like little celebrities (alakok in Hungarian), to act like good sisters!” . . . To which Adelaide responded in the same tone: “Of course, we are alakok (a word which is pronounced in Hungarian just like Alacoque) of the Alacoque of Saint Margaret Mary.”
Although outwardly very happy and with her soul full of joy, it cost her to leave the family home. She felt a deep pain from the separation. If with great happiness she left “the world,” her loving heart was not insensible to the pain of those who saw her off, making her sacrifice more meritorious. Grace does not suppress natural feelings. Going beyond them, it shines with more splendor and presents them as an offering to God. This pain which was so natural, Adelaide kept to herself. She only spoke of it in her Diary entry for August 6. “On this day so full of graces, at the moment of leaving mother, relatives, homeland, the mother tongue, all that was so dear to me, Jesus made me taste a little drop of the bitterness of all the sufferings he underwent in the Garden of Olives and in his agony.”
Many years later, the Superior recounted how Adelaide crossed the threshold of the Monastery: “her face radiant, almost jumping for joy and expressing her happiness everywhere, even during the night silence. Yet the following day some tears ran down her cheeks as she remembered her beloved mother–tears that appeared once again, in spite of herself and for the same reason, a few days before her death.”
She began her year of trial with an unequaled devotion. In her bearing, there was nothing of exaltation, of sublimation, nothing that stood out. In her everything appeared common, ordinary. If she raised her eyes, she truly contemplated the things of heaven toward which she aspired with determination but always with “her feet on the ground.”
Her correspondence, which greatly surpasses her Diary in volume, witnesses to it. Each one of her lines is full of attention and love for others. Her style is agreeable, imaginative, and in some aspects reveals a certain literary talent. (According to the memoirs of her brother John, her preferred reading was the works of the great poets such as Vorosmarty, Petofi and Arany.)
In her first letter to her mother, she described the Monastery of Thurnfeld: “ the air marvelously perfumed with balsam and the garden very beautiful; we can walk for the space of a half hour without covering everything. It is surrounded by a wall and full of fruit trees, flowers and hermitages. Right in front of us, the forest-covered Alps raise their summits toward heaven. On the other side, a mountain with its pine forest. A great calm and happiness fill me. We live under the same roof as Jesus and we are all His.”
On August 30, 1927, she began her postulancy which was the preparation for the great day of receiving the habit. She adorned with great care the wedding dress which was to delight her divine Spouse. To that end she wrote on January 29, 1928, the feast of Saint Francis de Sales: “Jesus, I promise to always show, with your help, a smiling face. I do not wish to cry even should the crosses you send me be very heavy. I do not want to forget that, from the Sanctuary, you see me constantly and thus I will always have the strength to smile.”
From these words we understand, that in the midst of her joy, Sister Adelaide nevertheless had little crosses. One time she said that in religious life all are obliged to accept sacrifices, that it is necessary to accept them in gratitude for the many benefits and so much joy.
The beautiful day of her clothing was approaching. On April 8, 1928, Easter Sunday, she wrote: “Jesus, my divine Spouse, it is a dream, is it possible? The day after tomorrow we celebrate our nuptials. . . You know what that means!. . . it is amazing, my heart overflows . . . I cannot find words to express such happiness!”
On April 10, her Diary reads: “day of grace and immense joy. Jesus, now I am truly yours; I feel that you have me in your arms. Your hands steer my little boat . . . I embrace your Heart with great confidence; I lose myself in the infinite ocean of your love!”
Radiant with happiness she wore the habit that was so desired. That first day, and all the days of her religious life, she kissed it with devotion and respect. On the last anniversary of her clothing, April 10, 1933, even though she was very weak, she asked them to dress her in it. Then she went to the window to say a silent goodby to the magnificent panorama that presented itself to her eyes. The superior, who accompanied her, understood all.
Thus had Jesus prepared the one who would be the first novice of the first Hungarian Visitation house, its first professed sister and its first victim. The last months that she spent in Thurnfeld, she received new graces and inspirations. Her name was the symbol of her vocation. She received that of Saint Margaret Mary (Maria Margit). Adelaide ceased to exist so that Sister Maria Margit might live.
“I am certain,” she wrote to her mother, “that the good God could not give me more happiness since he has already given me everything. All is mine since I have the love of Jesus.” It is as if we were hearing the words of Saint Paul:
“I live now, not I, but Christ lives in me.” (Gal. 2:20)
On the exterior, a simple life; on the interior, the life of God. Exteriorly, the simple fulfilling of the Rule and the prescribed customs; interiorly, perfect union with Jesus through the most heroic intentions. The Song of Songs was fulfilled in her: “I am the flower of the field and the lily of the valley” and also the words of the psalmist: “The beauty of the King’s daughter is all within.”
Sister Maria Margit understood that the Lord’s yoke is easy and his burden light, because she carried it as a faithful spouse of Christ, as a joyful spouse. Never did one see her sad or depressed even though the cross and suffering were not lacking to her.
The Superior affirmed that it was certain that God had given her a special light concerning the spirit of the Order because in spite of her short life and the little time available to read and study the writings of the Holy Founders, she knew them admirably. Her memory faithfully kept all that she heard or read.
ON THE BANKS OF THE DANUBE
In August of 1928, the Order of the Visitation was established in Hungary. Sister Maria Margit formed part of the founding group that left Thurnfeld on the second of the same month.
During the trip, on new foundations, enclosure is dispensed by authorization of the Holy See. The sisters arrived in Budapest on August 4 and were in Erd that same afternoon. In the interval, Sister Maria Margit was able to spend some time with her family. On her arrival in Budapest, her brother was waiting for her and gave her a box of fine confectionary. Much later Sister Maria Margit made this observation to her mother: “How expensive it must have been. He would have done better buying brooms and baskets. I would have been more content.”
The Monastery of Erd was installed in the ancient Palace of the Counts Karolyi, a palace that had been witness to historical events. Here King Louis II of Hungary rested before going to the famous battle of Mohacs in 1526. Through there also had passed the pontifical army of support commanded by the Polish Lord Gnojenski (who would fall, like the others, in battle) and through there also passed a little later, in reverse fashion, the victorious army of Soliman II marching toward Buda.
Before becoming the Monastery of the Visitation, the castle housed the novices of the Company of Jesus, who later moved to Budapest to the retreat house of Zugliet “Manresa,” where some years later a young man who also strove for holiness, Istvan Kaszap, entered the novitiate .
The consecration of the Monastery was preceded by eight days of prayer. This short period worked a change in the spiritual life of Sister Maria Margit. The desire was fixed in her soul of completing the sacrifice of her life “to enter the House,” that is to say, heaven, and to unite herself forever to Jesus. “O, my Jesus,” she wrote, “I do not wish to scrutinize your holy designs and you know to what point I do not wish to hasten by even a second the moment you have fixed when I shall meet you, but I have the presentiment that the dawn of my life approaches . . . Oh, my Jesus, the dawn of my life . . . You know, the dawn of Easter . . . The day on which you will call me by my name, ‘Maria’, and you will pronounce this word as on the dawn of that first Easter.” Her spiritual Father, to whom she communicated these desires which were inflaming her to the point of consuming her, became worried about her health. He wished to preserve her some time for the good of the Monastery and he ordered her to moderate her sentiments. Sister Maria Margit obeyed and on January 29, 1929 she made the vow, perhaps the most difficult of her life, to offer herself to Jesus for a long life, adding, “if Jesus so wishes it.”
On May 16 of the same year she made her first profession for three years. Four days later she wrote to her mother, quoting Father la Colombiere: “‘To make a vow is, in some way, to die; this destroys all attachments, all bonds that tie us to ourselves and to creatures.’ I, too, feel the breath of this mystical death.” That same day she wrote her last important entry in her Diary, where she expressed her determination to remain faithful until her last breath to the vows of obedience, poverty, chastity and observance of the Rules. “I must become a saint” is what one reads in the last line of her entry. This reminds us of what she said, being still very young, to her teacher: “Aunt Maca, I want to be a saint.” Perhaps it was only youthful enthusiasm, as if she had said: “I want to be a countess” or “I want to be a queen.” Could she not, nevertheless, have understood the meaning of that word? She also asked: How does one become a saint? Then, from the moment she understood it clearly, she no longer lived except to reach this sanctity to which she aspired and to which the Constitutions and the spirit of the Visitation gave her free access.
After having pronounced her vows, she who had been a model novice, became an exemplary professed. All in her manner of living points to her receiving extraordinary graces because ordinary ones would not have been sufficient to elevate her religious life to such a high degree of perfection.
She was constant and faithful in the practice of all the virtues. Her Diary also bears witness that the Holy Spirit filled her with extraordinary graces.
The Visitation, as we have said, is a contemplative Order. On rising, the sisters begin the day with mental prayer, then they chant the morning Office (Liturgy of the Hours) and attend Mass. They spend the day in different employments, spiritual reading, vocal prayer, meditation, Psalmody and recreation. One of the principal characteristics of the Order is simplicity, the legacy of their founders. Besides the exercises of the contemplative life, the sisters, in some countries such as Austria, occupy themselves with the education of girls.
Let us accompany Sister Maria Margit throughout her working day. We shall see for ourselves that spiritual intentions always vivified her acts giving them a great value before God. The superior said that she was a true model of the fidelity demanded by the Visitation. This life of fidelity is a chain of little sacrifices, of abnegation, of employments that continually change from morning to night. Our Sister made from all this a life of perfect love of God even to the least details, a life of charity toward the neighbor in its most delicate nuances. She participated in the educative tasks. She taught typing with so much skill that at her death it was with difficulty that they were able to replace her. The newspaper Est (Evening News), in an article in 1938, spoke of her as the future patroness of secretaries.
She was also exact in what concerned the parlor. When the signal was given for the end of the time for visits, she rose immediately and retired, but she did it with such simplicity and good manners that no one thought of reproaching her.
Her cell was separated from the chapel by only a wall. From her bed one could determine the location of the tabernacle. Whenever she could, she turned toward it to pray. In one of her letters to the Monastery of Thurnfeld she spoke of the feelings which overcame her on knowing herself so close to Jesus. She loved all that had to do with the Divine Office. She carried out with great zeal the charge of sacristan. In spite of the pain in her leg, she always knelt before the Most Blessed Sacrament, as she had done from her youth. She lived in the continual presence of God, contemplating him interiorly. She considered all that happened to her, however small it might be, not according to appearances but in its relation to the invisible, as permitted by God.
When her brother Istvan died on January 23, 1930, she wrote to her mother: “My dear Mama, we must console ourselves with the knowledge that our beloved Pista has reached the goal. Because the Sacred Heart loved him so much, He has called him to heaven and the deep pain caused by his death is also a gift that the Sacred Heart makes to us.”
The Superior of the Monastery of Rouen, who spent several days at Erd and had the occasion to be with Sister Maria Margit, expressed this thought: “I had the impression that each one of her words, of her acts, and all her life was guided according to supernatural criteria.”
She loved poverty. Never did a complaint escape her lips in spite of the numerous material difficulties of the monastery in the beginning. On the contrary, she bore with joy the effects of poverty. She rejoiced in her mended habits or when the most worn went to her. When her brother sent her a package, she wrote reminding him that these were luxurious things not suitable for a poor religious. She said the same to her mother when she bought her some fine clothing; “why not buy something more simple and less expensive? It is beautiful to be poor!” During a visit by her cousin she said, “it is the same to me whether it be potato soup or a cream cake.” Her life was a continual labor because she considered as lost each minute that lacked poverty.
Her relations were always simple and spontaneous. There was nothing of extravagance, of vanity, nor the least suspicion of false piety in her bearing. The most natural was to consider herself a very little thing. She was incapable of noticing any virtue in herself, whatever it might be, not because of false humility but rather because of her intimate conviction. She did not accept any flattering remarks.
Another aspect of her personality was her desire to participate in the evangelization of the world. She exhorted her relatives and friends to attend Holy Mass and to receive holy Communion. She was concerned about their spiritual life and the orientation of their lives.
Paging through the correspondence written to her mother in 1931, we discover these surprising annotations in a letter dated December 13: “We live in difficult times. In order that the world, which is misguided and in turmoil, should renew itself, we must pray intensely.” In another, dated December 26: “Dear Mama, we must pray very, very hard. Very afflicting news reaches us from all parts of the world. May God have pity on this unfortunate humanity which keeps running towards its perdition.” These two observations (which have preserved all their relevance) show that, eight years before the outbreak of World War II, Sister Maria Margit, enclosed in the Monastery, nevertheless followed what was happening and did not remain indifferent.
1932. She prepared herself for her solemn profession with an 8-day retreat. She used the retreat of Father Grou, S.J. Each day she copied some thoughts, especially those referring to abandonment to God and the perfection of love.
On May 16, she pronounced her perpetual vows. It was the last celebration of her life. Her mother, brothers, sisters and relatives where present. Her spiritual Father officiated and gave the homily. Sister Maria Margit was radiant beneath the nuptial crown, but the fever that was to carry her away one year later, was consuming her body, while the fire of love expressed by these lines which she confided to her Diary, “My God . . . my All,” inflamed her soul.
The Sweetness of the
Violet’s Perfume
A spiritual bouquet of the acts and words
of Sister Maria Margit, collected by
her sisters in Religion.
FIDELITY IN SMALL THINGS
“Fidelity” does not consist in doing only what was recommended us in the Novitiate. It consists also, to say it thus, in foretelling the desires of our superiors and carrying them out. Let us observe one of our days. Our Mother is writing in her room; the letters are accumulating on her desk. The work absorbs her. Suddenly she stops and reflects: ‘I am writing, but what are the sisters doing? Will they be faithful? What will Sister X be doing? Will she be exact in little things?’
We should be so faithful that our Mother returns to take up her pen without hesitation. She is very sure of us.
ALWAYS IN THE PRESENCE OF JESUS
“Everything, absolutely everything, comes from Jesus! It is He who sends us trials and all the small occasions of serving Him. Everything contributes to His designs; everything has a purpose. But along with the trials, He sends grace so that the soul comes out victorious. I see Him observing from the tabernacle each soul that He calls. With an anxious heart He waits . . . Will this soul be victorious by corresponding to grace? If it becomes discouraged, He offers it abundant helps to strengthen it, so that it triumphs in the combat, because He knows that this victory will aid in converting a sinner, that it will save a soul from the way of perdition.”
She confessed that one time a service was asked of her at a moment when she felt so tired that she believed herself incapable of it. For a moment she hesitated and wanted to refuse. Then she overcame herself thinking: “Jesus is looking anxiously to see if Maria Margit loves him.”
“LET’S BE JOYFUL”
Jesus loves joyful souls. Let us serve him smiling. Our eyes should reflect our joy. Believe me, it is a pleasure to see a religious who is serene, whose radiant eyes translate the joy of her vocation. Few people understand this. Holiness is not found in sadness. The joyful soul is attentive, fruitful; it easily conquers obstacles. Joy is the companion of generosity. Let us make religious life agreeable to others. Let us show it in all its beauty.
HOLY RECREATION
“She was the sun of our recreations. She always knew how to tell a little anecdote, a story from the missions, in order to entertain us and encourage us to work assiduously.
She looked with great tact for what could reanimate the conversation when it became heavy. We asked her from where she drew this strength and why she put so much importance on a good recreation. She responded: ‘Before going to this exercise I beg grace. I cast a glance toward the tabernacle; we look at each other and we understand each other. I know Jesus desires this, that he finds pleasure in this moment of recreation. So, doing it well, I save more souls. Oh! How many opportunities to save souls are offered us at recreation; let us know how to take advantage of them.’
“She had sayings such as this one: ‘If the body of Christ does not appear on our silver cross it is because we should be there, crucified.’ And yes, she was crucified; no crying and moaning, only smiling.”
Here is another example of her humor: “One day when we were speaking about apparitions of dead persons; she said, half serious and half in jest: ‘After my death I will pass a review on all the Monasteries of the Visitation and where there is disorder, I will appear as a ghost.’”
APOSTOLIC DESIRES
One beautiful summer afternoon, Sister Maria Margit joyfully helped us to water the garden. She had already watered several rows of vegetables. Our Mother was watching us from her window. Our sister saw her and exclaimed: “My Mother, how many Chinese babies I have baptized!” This thought made her forget the heat and fatigue.
“The field of action of a Visitandine does not have frontiers.” “Today I baptize in China, tomorrow in America. Everywhere I sow the seed of faith. I also have the missions of Europe, today here, tomorrow there. Wherever the Visitandine passes, hearts light up like lamps in the night. She should traverse the world conquering souls by her small sacrifices in order to take them to Jesus. He counts on us. Let’s not cause him illusions. He should recognize us in souls. Our vocation is the salvation of all our brothers and sisters in the world.”
During her illness while teaching me how to darn habits, she said to me, “When I mend the habits of our sisters I offer each stitch for the wearer of the habit.” “And why not for souls,” I asked her? “Because we will save more souls through a religious filled with the love of God. Yes, we will have one more seeker of souls.”
To a sister who was rubbing the iron: “When I see you rubbing it, I say to myself, she erases the sins of souls!” Her missionary zeal was above all for China. She collected with great devotion stamps and tin foil.
FERVENT DESIRES
One day we were speaking about zeal for souls. Her cheeks became inflamed and, as if transfigured, she said: “Let us not refuse anything to souls. At every moment we should give souls to Jesus. Our life appears simple, but beneath this simplicity there is hidden the sublime.” I asked her if her work for souls ceased during the night. She put her large interrogating eyes upon me and responded: “Oh, no! During the night I ask God that each breath may be a spiritual communion and each beat of my heart the spiritual rebirth of a soul. Thus we communicate, and each spiritual communion carries life to a soul.”
“I believe that in heaven we will have no greater happiness than to contemplate Him, to admire his majesty, his glory, his joy at the sight of the souls that we saved; and to see these souls who will receive us full of gratitude because they owe their salvation to us. How many souls await their happiness from us! How sad it would be if, through our negligence, a soul glorified God less throughout eternity. Jesus wishes to form saints for heaven, saints who increase his joy and his glory and who will be his crown. I am sure that He will give to each Visitandine the same graces he gave to our sister Saint Margaret Mary and our other holy sisters if we would ardently desire holiness. Yes, we should be saints. Let us be cornerstones, columns of the Order!”
THE SUPERIOR
“The soul of a Visitandine should be in continual union with her superior and this union should be accompanied by a filial confidence. That religious is happy, who like a little child, abandons her soul to God and to her superior! She advances along a good road.” She had a great confidence in her superior, whom she loved with a filial love but also supernatural. She kept this love until her death. Her last word was for her superior. Already in her agony, she called her and said to her: “Thank you.”
THE GREAT MONASTIC SILENCE
When she found herself in the hours of the great silence, she pressed her silver cross against her breast. We guessed the intention of her apostolic heart which sang: “I love you, Jesus; for you and for souls.” All these acts rekindled our zeal. Her constant fidelity and her love for souls animated us. Their sparks flashed here and there, setting us on fire with the same love.
“During the great silence,” she said, “we should abandon ourselves to the Lord. He makes his designs known to the soul. Let us not put barriers to his intentions. Let us banish every useless thought so that nothing may disturb this mysterious silence. We should let Jesus speak.”
THE SANCTUARY OF THE SOUL
“It is necessary to see Jesus and to love him in each soul! Let us love, moreover, the indifferent souls that do not wish to open the door of their sanctuary to the light. Let us love also the one who is lukewarm or whose sanctuary is untidy. Let us adorn it. Let us adore God in it and, day by day, let us slowly stimulate it to conscious love.” One day when she carried the ciborium in which the Blessed Sacrament was reserved during Holy Week, she pressed it against her heart and said: “It is necessary to love our sisters thus. They also are His tabernacle.”
Her tender love for the Eucharist carried her to paint on the wall of the cloister a small monstrance to indicate the place where Jesus remained in the tabernacle of the Chapel.
JESUS WOULD NOT DO THAT!
We found ourselves in the parlor. We were speaking of the holiness and the justice of Jesus Christ. Sister Maria Margit lifted her eyes to heaven and said peacefully, “I am so small that the good God will not have the heart to throw me into the fire. Why are you anxious? Of what are you afraid? Embrace your divine Spouse. He will cover you with his mantle and protect you. Do not become discouraged because of your faults. Do like a little child who after having fallen cleans his hands on the apron and continues running and singing.” And on another occasion, “When we have committed a fault, we must turn to Jesus and say to him with filial confidence: My good Jesus, it is I. Forgive me, I will be attentive so as not to fall again. I beg you to forget everything! Let us imitate the child that gets up as soon as he falls, cries and runs to his mother and, after having been caressed, he returns to his game content without thinking any more about it!”
THE PILLOW FOR THE INFANT JESUS
“It had been recommended to us that we use all the little pieces of thread in order to practice holy poverty. In this our sister also distinguished herself by her fidelity. We admired with what attention she gathered even the tiniest pieces and one good day she made a little silk pillow and carried it to the Novitiate. She placed it under the head of the Infant Jesus in the crib in order to warm him with her acts of virtue.”
CONFIDENCE — LOVE!
“I wish to aspire in everything to a perfect life and to arrive there as soon possible with wings of love.”
“Charity illumines the road that leads to You; if I wish to follow You by love, I must be a victim of your Love!”
“Whatever may befall me, my confidence in you will not diminish. I will always take refuge in your arms. I will repose upon your heart like a child who expects all from you . . . and there I will confide to you my desires which embrace the whole universe. Nothing is impossible to the boldness of love. I turn to you with an unlimited confidence and I am sure that even if you should make me die you would accomplish my desires.
“My soul is invaded by a torrent of graces and love. You cannot give me more and I, what will I give you? All belongs to you. My only good is my misery. I give it to you. You accept it, isn’t it true? You must take it because you know that my union with you depends on that.
“I wish to give to souls a little of that which fills me to overflowing. My Jesus, give me in abundance. The MAGNIFICAT will be the answer to all to which you invite me, O Jesus, and my lips will not permit any complaint to escape, even though nature rebels. Most holy Virgin, teach me then to sing the MAGNIFICAT with all my heart!”
And as to why the Church is beautiful in souls like this one, we complete this little spiritual bouquet with a phrase of the illustrious Cardinal Wiseman which is worthy of consideration: “A community that lives the spirit of Saint Francis de Sales will arrive infallibly at the summit of perfection.” There are so many nuances in this holiness like the stars sparkling in the firmament. One of these stars, whose brilliance knew how to captivate the attention of all those who crossed her path, is the beloved Sister Maria Margit, who in spite of having been snatched away too quickly from her religious family, knew how to fill a long road, imprinting her unforgettable memory on all those who had the happiness to come in contact with her.
SUNSET
In spring, the sunset is splendid on the hills of Erd. All the sky is resplendent and the twilight remains a long time illuminated by shades of rose.
It is a symbol of Sister Maria Margit’s departure from earth, but her memory lives in the souls of those who knew and loved her. The supernatural enchantment of her virtue radiates from on high and penetrates the veil that separates us from eternal happiness.
One week after her profession, the community climbed the hill during recreation. Sister Maria Margit arrived very flushed and exhausted because her bad leg made the climb very difficult for her. One of the sisters pointed out to her that she should not fatigue herself so. “I always want to be with the community,” was her reply. They took her temperature and it was 102o. Sister Maria Margit was confined to bed. Tuberculosis had invaded her body. In the middle of July the doctor stated that there was no hope. On September 10, she received the Anointing of the Sick, but the Lord was in no hurry. She must drain the chalice of slow suffering like her model, Saint Therese. Her illness lasted one year. She was always found joyful as well as gracious. On one occasion, being asked about her health, she replied smiling: “Very well, I live on the heights, at 102o.”
On September 15, the feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, her spiritual Father wrote to her: “Remain calm in the hands of Jesus. Do not be troubled. Sanctify each moment. It is the best preparation for death or for health.”
The good God tried her in many ways. She suffered several infirmities at the same time. Her last days were very painful. One night she imagined that her mother had died of sorrow because of her illness. Only with difficulty could they convince her that her mother was still living.
When her headaches became insupportable, she thought about the missionaries who spent themselves under the burning sun of the tropics and offered her sufferings to ease their fatigue. In the midst of the devouring fever, she said that at least she could warm the glacial regions and the cold hearts of men. “I am like an oven.”
She desired that upon her tomb they would plant her favorite flower–the violet. But she added that if they dug it up, to do it with care so as not to damage the others that were near it.
When the Superior reminded her that the anniversary of her holy profession was approaching, she answered her: “I wish to celebrate it in heaven.” Our Lord heard her wish. On the morning of May 13 she said: “this will be my last day.” She received her well-Beloved in Holy Communion. We can imagine that it was with indescribable affection. An hour later, her pain became extreme, the most terrible of her whole illness.
Toward 5:00 she said to the Superior: “I don’t see anything!” And a few minutes later, in a weak voice, she said: “Thank you!” That was her last word. Now only a slight murmur of breathing could be heard. The Superior helped her to hold the blessed candle in her hand while she (the Superior) recited ejaculations. They called the sisters who were making their afternoon meditation in the choir. They gathered around the bed of their dying sister. Just minutes after 5:30, she breathed her last. Her soul flew to Him whom she desired and whom she had loved so much. The rays of the setting sun, which rarely illuminated her room, this afternoon gilded her cell, a symbol of the eternal sun that would shine for her from now on.
It was a Saturday in the month of May, the same day on which, in 1917, the Holy Virgin appeared for the first time in Fatima; the same day on which, fifty years earlier, Saint Therese had appeared to cure her; lastly, the same day on which, in 1920, Saint Margaret Mary, her protector and sister in religion, was canonized on the Feast of the Ascension of the Lord. Surely, the Most Holy Virgin received her in heaven.
A profound peace was reflected on her transfigured countenance. She was beautiful. The faithful came in groups to contemplate her laid out in the choir. The virginal body which had been inhabited by so pure a soul was covered with white lilies. The sisters chanted the psalms according to the custom of the Order. She was buried on the morning of May 15, at 10:00. Her mother, brothers and sisters were present. The faithful filled the chapel. Before closing the casket, the Superior changed her silver cross for a more simple one of wood as is prescribed in the Rule. With a fervent “until we meet again” the casket was closed. Sister Maria Margit now received from Jesus the first look of his divine eyes; that look which she had desired all her life; that look which is the joy of the blessed. For the first time, she really saw his divine eyes which she had contemplated so often here below in front of the tabernacle.
The casket was removed from the choir through the window in the grille and placed before the altar.
“To die of love,” she had written in her Diary six years earlier on this same date. During her last retreat she had copied this thought of Father Grou: “I cannot die by myself, God must do it. He must consume his victim in the fire of love.” All was finished on this day.
Her grave was the first in the cemetery of the Monastery, on the hill of Erd, near the road that leads to the Monastery. After the monastery was destroyed, her remains were moved to the place where they are found today, beside the Church of Erd-Ofalu.
Mr. Versits, an old inhabitant of Erd, related much later that returning from their vineyards on that same day, he and his wife had the impression of seeing a strange light in the direction of the monastery. They did not know that Sister Maria Margit, with whom they were not acquainted, had died exactly at that hour.
From 1950 on, the ancient castle which had harbored the monastery and which witnessed her life of sacrifice, fell into neglect. The furniture was pillaged and even its stones were dispersed by vandals. But Sister Maria Margit’s reputation for sanctity and the veneration shown her are still alive and growing each day.
Some time ago, the documentation related to her beatification, as far as what concerns Hungary, was finished. All of the documents have been in Rome for some decades for their proper examination.
“The earthly sun of Sister Maria Margit reached its sunset the day of her death,” wrote Father Csavossy, “but her celestial Sun rose that day never more to hide Himself.”
As for us, it is ours to pray that we may one day be able to count among the women religious saints she who lived in the Visitation and left behind her a large, luminous wake, an authentic witness of the contemplative life.
“I WILL NOT FORGET YOU”
That was always Sister Maria Margit’s answer to those who asked her to pray for their intentions and to intercede for them in heaven.
The letters which the Monastery received immediately after her death are a testimony of those who invoked her in their necessities. One after another, full of gratitude, they affirm that God “listened” through the intercession of the “Little One.”
Sister Maria Margit once asked the out-sister to caress the tabernacle in her stead since it was not possible for her to do so, being behind the grille. “And she recommended that she also do it after her death.” These words are like her testament. It was a way of expressing her love for Jesus and she wanted others to share in it. Each flower on her tomb sings this love and invites us, also, to love purely and ardently the one who reposes there. It is like a canticle which rises from the banks of the Danube, dominating the noise of the waves and which repeats these ineffable words: Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!
ASIDES
From the 1934 circular of the Monastery of the Visitation of Hungary, with respect to Sister Maria Margit, we read:
“Among the loved intercessors in life eternal we see a little Angel who was ours until May 13 of last year. This loss has deeply afflicted us. Nevertheless, we have the feeling that with her death, her true mission has begun because the small tomb is as the cornerstone that must support our nascent foundation. It is the sacrifice that the Savior has asked of us in order to secure our future and to fulfill his designs of love on this beloved family. . . . We only consecrate a few lines to her memory since the story of her soul, written by her director, the Rev. Father Csavossy, former provincial of the Jesuits, is at the printer in Hungary.
We will try to have it translated into French in order to print it and make it known.
V + J!
“Our angelic Sister Maria Margit Bogner, born in Melencze on December 15, 1905, was the first flower picked by the Divine Gardener in our humble garden. As much as we feared to lose her, Jesus was in a hurry to take pleasure in his “Little One”.
Her family, for whom she was the favorite, sacrificed a portion of their livelihood for the health of this beloved child, who in spite of the cares and affection of which she was the object, did not hesitate to fly to her so loved Visitation in order to run with invincible enthusiasm the way of fidelity. Beneath the veil of this fidelity were hidden an uncommon virtue and a love for God carried to heroism, a love that secretly consumed her.
She began her novitiate in Thurnfeld. She came to Erd with the sister-foundresses and was the ray of sun of the small community, for which no sacrifice frightened her. Along with this love, she nourished that for the foreign missions as her zeal embraced the entire world.
The spirit of our holy Institute was innate to her. She was a soul transparent to her superior; of a childlike simplicity; a blind obedience, as she was before for her spiritual director.
In her last illness, she was a model patient, always joyful even in the midst of the greatest sufferings.
She died on May 13, 1933 and was buried on the 15th in the Monastery cemetery.
Immediately after her death, several people affirmed that they were heard in their prayers, which does not surprise us knowing the purity of her virtue and the special graces that God had bestowed upon her.
Our so loved little sister was 27 years and five months old and was four years professed.”
D.S.B.
PRAYER TO OBTAIN THE BEATIFICATION
OF VENERABLE MARIA MARGIT
Lord, you delight in humble and little souls and you use them for great things. Glorify your little flower Sister Maria Margit. Make shine very soon over her head the aureola of beatification, for your glory and our spiritual good. Grant us the grace we implore you through her intercession. Amen.
**** ****
Note – The laity of Hungary wish to obtain this beatification and His Holiness John Paul II is very favorable to it. In a Wednesday General Audience he spoke to the pilgrims from that country, presenting Sister Maria Margit Bogner to them as a model of holiness (1985).
Pope Benedict XVI declared Sister Maria Margit Bogner venerable on June 28, 2012.