The Marian Martyrs of Rosica

141 Memoir Anthony approached them, pale and tired. He tried to smile. He held a cross in his hand. He blessed them once again and gave them general absolution. Through a tight throat and tears, he called: “My dear children, goodbye. I will see you in heaven.” Crying, wailing, and shouting started. “Father, save us! Merciful Jesus! Why are they killing us! We are innocent.” “Have courage, dear ones. It is just for a few moments. Then God is with you.” Father intoned the song “He is hanging from the cross.” It reverberated from the rafters. Meanwhile SS men herded them out as they wailed and sobbed. They did not go far, just to the edge of the village. The echo of the shots resounded in the ears of those still living and reverberated painfully in their skulls. Others were already still and lifeless. The door opened again as the soldiers came for a new group. Mothers with children and old men dragging their feet went out. Father bid farewell to everybody, just as he had with the first group. He gave them courage before the terrible moment of death. Finally, Father’s own time came. Only the last group remained in the church. Father distributed the Holy Eucharist. The tabernacle was empty. There was no more Jesus-Host. He was now residing in people-hosts, which would soon become bloodied as He had been on the cross. The body of an old man who had died at night lay still by the wall. The door opened. All were ready. Lord, it is time. You have called me to a painful roll call. So, I am coming. Please accept my life for this miserable earth, doused with tears and blood. Let the innocent victims that You are taking today bring forth a harvest. Let our blood be the seed of new life, the life of Faith. The priest took a last look at the church. He had experienced so much in it. He had served Christ faithfully in it, especially during those final hours which had been full of miraculous con-