The Marian Martyrs of Rosica

142 The Marian Martyrs of Rosica versions. A stream of beauty was flowing through him from God to the people. We cannot grasp the magnitude of sacrifice and the huge scope of grace activated through his priestly mediation. He was a good channel of graces used by God. They now went to perform the last act of the magnificent drama. The blood sacrifice would soon be complete. Somewhere off in the distance, a stable was on fire, and terri- ble shouting, wailing, and crying rose up to heaven. A living human torch burned. A mass of people was aflame. Individual torches, individual pyres, were not in fashion then. “Modern” culture could afford collective torches as gifts to “the Great Fuehrer.” Hamlets burned. As far as the eye could see, there were fires everywhere. The sun was veiled with smoke. The cemetery of human evil and bestiality smoldered. And finally, the villages and bodies were reduced to embers. Unburied corpses looked into the winter sky with blind eyes. An entire countryside was covered with the silence of death. O God who art in heaven. Extend Your hand of justice. Virgin of Good Counsel, O Virgin Mary, what should we do? A PRIEST IS SAVED In the chapel in Zaszczyryn, Father Laszewski knelt in prayer. He and the others there could see the smoke rising since morning. It was not an accidental fire. It was a purposeful action. It was the expedition, rumors of which had been com- ing from Latvia. The frontier was near. Shall I run away? He wondered. Oh, no. I will not leave the people. I will not aban- don them. I am their shepherd. Mother of Good Counsel, please support me with your wisdom and kindness. He left the church and went back to the rectory. A pale-looking Sister was there walking around as if blindfolded. “Sister, please run away to Latvia. It's close.” “And you, Father?”