I Knew Edel Quinn

I knew EDEL QUINN

1...First Impressions

I was one of the favoured ones who had the privilege of Edel Quinn's friendship. I do not claim to have been her very closest friend but she was my most intimate friend, and I consider this one of the greatest graces of my life.

It is to the Legion of Mary that I owe the happiness of having known Edel. I made her acquaintance in the praesidium of Our Lady of Victories, to which I was introduced by Mona Tierney, the same friend who had brought Edel to the Legion.

About the year 1930-'31 I joined the Legion. I sat beside Edel at the praesidium meetings, but we were never assigned as co-visitors. From the very beginning I felt convinced that I had entered into contact with a chosen soul.

The first thing that struck me was the unusual brightness of her eyes and the wonderful charm of her smile. She was always well dressed, with perfect taste and according to the fashion. She was among the moderns of her time, but was not ultramodern; she avoided such aids as lip-stick. Her clothes were in keeping with the rules of modesty, though without priggishness.

She had a most attractive personality. Her general attitude and manner gave an impression of great friendliness. Her greeting on the occasion of a chance meeting was always brimming over with warmth. She simply "swept you off your feet," such was the wholeheartedness of her handshake and of her cheery greeting "Hello, how are you?" or "What a pleasant surprise!"

One sensed about her a consciousness of living in the divine Presence. She did not talk about it, but her personality radiated an atmosphere of recollection. Yet she was the soul of gaiety, of cheerfulness. That was one of the most extraordinary aspects of her whole conduct: quite naturally and seemingly with perfect ease she combined a deep interior life with all the assets of social success - youth, charm, smartness, love of fun and innocent merriment, a keen sense of humour, a bright intelligence, a talent for music and ability at sports such as tennis, dancing and golf, all of which she loved but gave up to devote herself more fully to the Legion apostolate.

2...Her Plans Reversed

One Sunday morning in January, 1932, Edel and I met in Stephen's Green, Dublin. She was on her way home from Sancta Maria, the Legion Hostel for street girls.

In response to her usual breezy greeting, I reproached her for not having given me the news, which I had just learned elsewhere, of her approaching entry to a convent. She apologised, saying that she wanted to be certain of her entry before letting the word get around. Then she told me she was to enter the Poor Clares of the Colletine Observance in Belfast, and that her entry was fixed for April.

What a surprise then when I heard a couple of weeks later that Edel had fallen ill and had been taken to a sanatorium!

Until that time my relations with her were simply friendly in an ordinary, general way. It was during her stay in the sanatorium that we became close friends. Immediately after her going there, I heard many comments that roused me to a deeper interest. Those of her friends who had previously known her better than I, spoke of her in a manner that surprised me: "No wonder she fell ill with the life she led, fasting, often missing her meals, abstaining from milk, butter and meat."

Such remarks made me decide to try to penetrate more deeply into Edel's behaviour. I felt convinced of her spiritual superiority although she was a year younger than 1. (When we became acquainted our ages were approximately twenty-three and twenty-four respectively.) At the time I was thinking of becoming a nun, though obstacles just then prevented me. I wrote to Edel telling her this and asking her to help me in the spiritual life by giving me advice on how to advance.

Edel refused to act in that capacity; she merely suggested some books I should read. I visited her in the sanatorium at first with Mona Tierney, but then wrote asking her to fix a day on which I could see her without other visitors. She did so and that visit started our real friendship.

3....Joked About Her Illness

We discovered that we had the same confessor, but he did not suit either of us very well. He was a very zealous priest· but overwhelmed with work and we could not receive from him the spiritual direction we felt we needed. I am sure the fault was on our side. We were both rather shy and did not succeed in making known to him our needs and difficulties. Anyhow, we

began praying for a spiritual director and before long we found one.

I went to see Edel at the sanatorium several times. Her conversation revealed a deeply supernatural spirit. She lived quite evidently in a state of constant abandonment to the divine will, making its fulfilment her delight. She joked about her illness although it meant the breaking up of her life and of all her plans for the future.

In the sanatorium all the windows and doors were kept open when an icy wind was blowing. Edel's face and hands were blue with cold, but she was always radiant and full of fun, as though she were having a delightful holiday. She avoided as far as possible any allusion to her state of health and she never complained about her health or about anyone or anything.

As a matter of fact, I do not remember ever hearing her use any expression such as "I am in pain," or "I have been very ill" during all the time I knew her. She told me she was born on the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross and she added, laughing, "It's my feast-day!" I realised clearly that the cross was her lot in life in

many ways. She carried it bravely, but she was far from devoid of feeling. I could see that she suffered from many things even though she never mentioned the fact. At times something deep in her eyes betrayed an undercurrent of pain in spite of her brightness.

Every time I went to see Edel in the sanatorium I found her in the same high spirits, brimming over with cheerfulness and radiating joy all around her. She was usually the centre of a group of patients, and played the piano sometimes to entertain them.

4...The Invalid At Home

Edel was very careful to keep the rules of the institution while she was there. I remember that when she came for a walk with me in the grounds, she was careful not to stay out longer than the time allotted to her for the walk. But when she saw there was no use remaining in the sanatorium since her health was not improving, she asked a friend to take her home. She could see no point in asking her family, who were not too well off, to continue paying for her in these circumstances.

For some time after her return home Edel continued to lead an invalid's life, but not for long. Seeing how useless all the treatment was proving and convinced that she could not he

cured by it, she decided to give it up and devote what remained of her life on earth to some useful activity. She very soon found a job as secretary in Callow's engineering works and took on active membership of a Legion of Mary praesidium.

Her family and friends tried to restrain her zeal, but Edel laughed away all counsels of prudence. She had a talent for overcoming, with a disarming, simple and strong logic, all such well-meant interference. When I reproached her for leading an ordinary life in her physical condition, saying that to me it seemed really wrong, she replied that she had reasoned it out with herself. After having given the doctors a good trial and having found that they could do nothing for her condition, she had come to the conclusion that she was free to give them up and regulate her life as she thought best. It may be that her family's needs weighed with her in this decision. ,

5...Frugal In Everything

She told me that she took a day's rest when she had a haemorrhage from the lungs, but beyond that she did nothing special for her health. Her life during that period was rather austere for an invalid. She would not let illness be an obstacle in her pursuit of closer union with God. She took advantage of the relative freedom from parental control which her position assured her, in order to practise any mortification that circumstances allowed.

When she shared the family meals, she ate what was set before her, although it was rather difficult to get her to eat meat. She would never order it in a restaurant or hotel when she dined out. She told me that she found meat really repugnant; when I told her, before my entering a convent, that our rule forbade meat absolutely, she exclaimed "What a chance!" Edel's spiritual director intervened to moderate her austerity.

She then ate meat because he told her to do so. She was very frugal in everything. I had tea with her often in restaurants, but she would never order anything more than tea and buns, and, of course, in her company neither would 1.

Once, on Holy Saturday, she was spending the afternoon in my home, and I offered her sweets. She took some, but she asked me why she should be offered them. (To eat sweets in Lent was considered self-indulgent). I said that since Lent ended at midday on Holy Saturday, I thought it in keeping with the spirit of the Church to cease at the same time all Lenten privations. Edel laughed, but did not seem to find my reasoning very valid.

6....Spirituality

From the beginning of my friendship with Edel, I used to open my soul to her and discuss with her all the little problems of my interior life. I did so because I found her conversation most helpful in those matters. It was evident that she understood them and she spoke with ease on the various spirituaJ subjects that came up for discussion. She always showed deep interest and usually, almost as soon as we met, would ask me for the "latest news," meaning whether I had any new ideas to discuss with her.

In these conversations she expressed freely her opinions and made known to me her preferences in the matter of doctrine, but she never told me anything about her own spiritual life. I made an occasional effort to draw from her some avowal concerning her prayer and union with God, but she only gave a vague reply to the effect that there was nothing to tell. Of course that must have meant that there was nothing that she wanted to tell.

She was so clearly "at home" discussing the deep mysteries of the Faith, that I felt sure she had a certain experimental knowledge of them. So," although I cannot now remember her exact words in these discussions, I do recall their subject matter.

She spoke most frequently about the in-dwelling of the Blessed Trinity in the soul, having perhaps been led to that by the teaching and preaching of the Carmelite Father who had previously been her confessor. He had particularly recommended some little books which we both read and re-read with great profit, One with Jesus by De Jaegher and From Holy Communion to the Blessed Trinity by Bernadot but also the works of Pere Plus:

God within us, In Christ Jesus and Christ in His Brethren .

7....Favourite Authors

Then we found other books of equal interest : the works of Dom Marmion and St. John of the Cross; and the True Devotion and the Secret of Mary of St. Louis Marie de Montfort. These of course were "daily bread" for legionaries. The Life and other writings of the Little Flower were great favourites. In fact, the book entitled L'esprit de Ste. Therese became one of Edel's most cherished possessions. She had it in French and she evidently applied herself to living constantly according to its teaching.

Other favourite authors of hers were Juliana of Norwich, Elizabeth Leseur, Sr. Elizabeth of the Trinity and Consummata.

She also read works of Vanier, and Tanquerey's A Treatise of the Spiritual Life and many others of which I cannot give a complete list, not to mention the New Testament and The Imitation of Christ which were the most frequently read of all. I tried to make her read The Interior Castle of St. Teresa, but she refused to go beyond the first four chapters, saying that she considered it a waste of time to read about extraordinary graces of which she had no personal experience.

Edel was deeply interested in the manner of conceiving the Divine Presence. She realised how far from reality were all the images and figurative terms used to express analogies between God and creatures, for instance, the offering of a triangle as a symbol of the Blessed Trinity. Similarly, all other figures used as illustrations of purely spiritual realities seemed distracting rather than helpful.

The two quotations from the New Testament that came constantly to our minds were the following: "God is love" (St. John) and "In him we live and move and are" (St. Paul). When we found any writing or heard any sermon that served to make clearer the truths about God or that expressed such truths in terms corresponding to our own ideas on spiritual subjects, we were delighted, and if only one of us made the discovery, she quickly shared it with the other. I remember how Edel's face lit up and her exclamation of pleasure when I made her any communication of that sort.

8...Source Of Her Joy

The idea of the Father as God knowing Himself; of the Son as God, known to Himself; and of the Holy Ghost as the Infinite Love which is God and in which the Father and Son are One in blissful Unity, was a source of constant delight.

There is a very common saying that: "all the world loves a lover." What man in modern times was more universally loved than Good Pope John? He took the whole world by storm, simply by the power of his love. Why then do people not love God? Simply because they do not realise that God is Love. If only people knew better what God is and what He is not, they could not fail to love him.

Edel and I used to talk about that a lot. It was clear to her that all the love in the world, all the goodness and kindness in people, all the noblest feelings of human hearts, from the sublime and heroic self-sacrifice of mothers, to the equally heroic self- sacrifice of missionaries, in a word, all that can be known on earth of unselfish love, is merely there because God has put it there. He has put it there as a weak flickering flame that reflects the unfathomable fire of love that He is Himself. In this infinite abyss of Love we and all creatures live and move and have our being. This was the source of Edel's unfailing joy.

For Edel the whole world seemed vibrating with the presence of God. How true are those words said daily at Mass : "Heaven and earth are full of thy glory." Realisation of this wonderful truth gave Edel the almost superhuman strength of soul that all have admired in her, the radiant smile that lit up her countenance, and the warmth of love she poured out on everyone whom she knew. The seed of the Word that nourished her had fallen on good ground, and therefore yielded the "hundredfold" of the Gospel parable. God was her most intimate friend - the Life of her soul, the Joy of her heart, the Light of her mind.

9 "Spiritual Instructions"

Here are two quotations we liked very much, because they express something of what we felt to be true about union with God, in language stripped of metaphor. The first is from St. Gregory; I can say no more about it. I copied it into a notebook at that time, having probably found it in some book or review, quoted by someone else. It seemed rather like an introduction to the quotation from Blosius that will follow this.

St. Gregory says : "The mind must clear itself of all sense perceptions and of all images of things bodily and spiritual, so that it may be able to find and consider itself as it is in itself; that is, its essence, and then, by means of this realisation of itself, thus stripped of all, it rises to the contemplation of God."

This act seemed to us really the first step towards a perception of the Divine Presence and an understanding of purely spiritual beings and their manner of being present. The human soul is really the best "image" of God that exists on earth and through its realisation of its own spiritual nature, it can rise to the contemplation of the divine Essence, while of course understanding that there is infinity between the two ..

The second quotation is from the work by Blosius entitled Spiritual Instructions. It was likewise copied from an article in a review and formed a subject of conversation between us.

Blosius writes: "Few know of the supreme affection, the simple intelligence, the apex of the spirit and the hidden depth

of the soul. In truth, you cannot persuade most people that this depth is in us. For it is further within and more elevated than are the three higher powers of the soul, for it is the source of these powers. It is wholly simple, essential and uniform. Wherefore in it there is not multiplicity but unity, and those three higher powers are one. Here is the highest tranquillity, the highest silence, since no image can come here.

"By this depth (in which the divine Image is hidden) we are like unto God. The same depth ... is called the heaven of the spirit, for in it is the Kingdom of God ... But the Kingdom of God is God Himself with all His riches. Therefore that bare and unfigured depth ... transcends place and time, resting in a perpetual adhesion to God as its Beginning ... It is the abyss of the soul and its inmost essence. This depth which the uncreated Light continually illuminates, when it is opened to man and begins to shine for him, marvellously affects and attracts him.

10...The Timeless Sacrifice

Edel understood also in a very spiritual way the mystery of the Blessed Eucharist and the Sacrifice of the Mass. Our Lord, as the Word made Flesh, was for her the centre of all reality on earth. She understood that in the Sacred Humanity God was making Himself known in a visible, tangible way to us poor creatures. As Jesus said: "He that sees me, sees the Father." In His Sacred Humanity, the Son taught us in human language all necessary truth and showed us by example how to be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect.

Then, by His supreme sacrifice on the Cross, He won for us the right to become sharers of His own Sonship. The historical events of His life belonged to a point in time at their happening, but the acts accomplished by Jesus belonged to the second Divine Person and, as such, were outside time. Jesus, when He instituted the Blessed Eucharist, made this truth a vital reality for us. By means of the sacramental Sacrifice of the Mass, time and space are no longer obstacles.

The great and tremendous reality of the death on the Cross of the Son of God is rendered present until the end of time. When we assist at Mass, the inner spiritual substance of the one great Sacrifice of the New Law is then present at our disposal, to be offered up by us in our own name and in that of the whole Church. "As often as you shall eat this bread and drink of this chalice, you shall show forth the death of the Lord"

(Corinthians 11 :26). Edel had a keen and vivid realisation of this truth. She once sent me a little picture in which Our Lord on the Cross is shown in a cloud above the Sacred Host held up during the Elevation at Mass; and she wrote: "This is my favourite picture of the Mass. I could assist at Mass all day." She did in fact make a point of assisting at as many Masses as she could.

Edel liked very much Dom Vonier's book A Key to the Doctrine of the Eucharist because in it he explains admirably the relationship between the sacraments and the events of Our Lord's life, the special graces of which they apply to our souls. The ideal of St. Paul "I live; now not I but Christ lives in me" appealed to her strongly. That is why she was so fond of De Jaegher's little book One with Jesus. She strove constantly to realise this ideal, insofar as human nature allowed.

11....Devotion To Mary

Her part of the programme consisted principally in the "now not 1." She tried to "die to self" so as to allow Christ to live in her as fully as He might will to do so. As far as I could see, she did her part well. She seemed really dead to herself; she forgot herself and her own interests completely for others.

A necessary consequence of this form of spirituality was a tender filial devotion to the Mother of Christ. Mary was truly her Mother to whom she turned in any difficulty, to whom she consecrated herself as a slave of love according to St Louis Marie de Montfort's teaching. She was one of those souls who may be described as Marian. The influence of Mary in her soul made itself felt by an exquisite charm and sweetness that only Marian souls possess. She was very fond of the poem of the Little Flower entitled "Why I love thee, Mary."

Edel joined the Legion of Mary in order to serve Mary better and, through her, to bring souls to Christ. She believed firmly in Mary's most powerful intercession - the invincible power of a Mother who is loved as such with the infinite love of God's own Son. Mary was her model, whose virtues and traits of character she tried to reproduce as far as possible in her life.

She thoroughly believed that, as St Louis-Marie says, we cannot choose a better way of going to God than the way He chose to come to us, through Mary. Of course that does not mean that she did not approach God directly in prayer. In the preceding passages I have tried to make that clear. She lived

in God's presence and communed directly with Jesus and with the Blessed Trinity, but she was always conscious of being under the patronage of Our Lady. She presented herself to God asa child of Mary in closest union with Jesus, Mary's child par excellence.

12....The Practice

The means chosen by Edel to help her to reach the goal which she had set herself were those common to all fervent Catholics, daily Mass and Communion, very frequent confession, daily meditation, spiritual reading, visits to the Blessed Sacrament, the Rosary and, I think, the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the constant practice of interior recollections, of selfdenial, fraternal charity and all the other Christian virtues. Enclosed retreats, necessarily very short, and apostolic work in the Legion of Mary were, of course, added on. She rose every morning at half past five, and Mass, Holy Communion, morning meditation and a very scanty breakfast were her preparation for the day's work .••

She was still in the sanatorium when I became acquainted with the priest who was to become her spiritual director and mine, and it was she who, unwittingly, brought about the meeting with him that eventually led to my entering the religious Order to which I have the happiness to belong. It happened that another patient in the sanatorium drew Edel's attention to a statement in a newspaper that the Pope, then Pius XI, had suppressed two convents of contemplative nuns near Rome, and intended to direct the religious activities of women into channels more useful to humanity.

Edel cut out this announcement and sent it to me, and asked me to try to find out from a priest whether it corresponded to the truth. The first opportunity that I had of doing so came along very soon. I was invited as a visitor to a meeting of a praesidium which had for its spiritual director a priest, three members of whose family were in contemplative Orders. He himself had been in Rome not long before, so I presumed that he must know what the Pope thought of contemplative Orders.

After the meeting, I handed him the cutting and asked him what he thought of it. He emphatically denied the allegation and said that, on the contrary, the Holy Father was most favourable to the contemplative Orders.

13...Delicacy Of Conscience

A lively conversation followed, at the end of which the spiritual director drew me aside and asked me why I was interested in contemplatives. I told him that I had the intention of entering a contemplative Order. That led to a discussion about different contemplative Orders, and the upshot was that I decided, though not immediately, to enter an Order that was even more exclusively contemplative than the one I had been considering. I do not think that was too bad, as an effect of that anti-contemplative propaganda!

When, later, both Edel and I placed ourselves under this priest's direction, we usually went to confession to him on Saturday afternoons. Then we would frequently spend the evening together, either in Edel's home or in mine, or occasionally in some quiet spot around Dublin, near the sea.

It often happened that, while we were walking along together after confession, our confessor passed us on his bicycle, saluting us in passing. One day, as this happened, I said to Edel: "I wonder what he thinks of our being so often together?" Whereupon Edel rep1ied: "Oh, it is all right; he approves of our friendship. I asked him." That reassured me, but also surprised me, for it had never occurred to me to ask his approval. It gave me an insight into the delicacy of Edel's conscience.

On other occasions, I could see how she acted according to the rules of perfect prudence and circumspection. Although she was always teeming with playful good humour and ready to laugh heartily at the least provocation, she was really serious in the depths of her soul. She had a deep consciousness of life's seriousness; it showed itself in her very conscientious fulfilment of duty.

14...Faith and Hope

Two expressions of Sacred Scripture seem to me applicable to Edel: "0 woman, great is thy faith," first spoken by Our Lord to the Chananean; and those words of St Paul: "The just man lives by faith." Edel's whole life and being were steeped in faith, the faith "firm and immovable as a rock" that the Legion of Mary desires to see in all its members.

I do not think that she ever suffered from temptations against faith. One day I mentioned to her that I had had at one time temptations of that sort, adding that it seemed like a touch of Purgatory. Edel answered that she thought it must be more like a touch of Hell, and she spoke in such terms that I concluded she probably had no personal experience of such a trial, but that the very thought of it frightened her.

Her hope was as strong as her faith. It had become for her a loving state of abandonment to the Will and care of our heavenly Father. As far as one could judge from her words and actions she lived with God as a child in her Father's house.

I have no clear remembrance of anything she said on the subject except a few remarks touching on the ordinary Christian virtue of hope. It happened that the father of a family known to both of us died, prematurely, leaving his wife and family in great grief. One of the daughters, especially, was quite overwhelmed. The near relatives were worried about her and Edel spoke to me about it in tones of disapproval. In such cases, it seemed to her, we should find strength to overcome our too natural feelings in the virtue of hope, and to exaggerate in grieving over our deceased relatives was contrary to that virtue.

15...Charity

Although Edel's spihtual life, like that of all true Christians, was based on all three theological virtues, it was the virtue of charity that shone out with greatest brightness in all that she did and said. Love of God and of her neighbour filled her to overflowing. She lived entirely for God, seeking only to glorify Him and to prove her love for Him by every means in her power.

God was for her the most entrancing reality. She used to speak in terms that left no possible doubt about her all-absorbing love for Him. She saw Him to be so truly love itself, so infinitely good, beautiful and true, so surpassingly worthy of all love that she simply could not fail to love Him with every fibre of her being.

It was clear to me that the gift of Wisdom was hers in great abundance, that gift which enables souls to "taste and see that the Lord is sweet." Such burning love for God could not remain completely hidden, even though Edel, from motives of humility, avoided speaking to people in general in any way that could reveal the inward flame.

She did not talk about God to people; she gave Him to them. Her fraternal charity knew no bounds. It was simply the outflow of the divine love that filled her heart and soul. She gave herself without reserve to all. Though naturally shy, she was the centre of attraction in any circle where she happened to be present. Everyone felt the irresistible charm of her personality. She was the most popular of all our acquaintances, simply because her unfailing kindness and sympathy were manifest. She was always ready to help others by any means in her power. She seemed never to think of herself.

Edel's weak health was never a pretext for refusing a service. On the contrary, she insisted on helping even when others did not want her to do so, for fear of overtiring her. With charming smile and irresistible power of persuasion she overcame all wellmeant resistance. I remember an example of this when she met me one day on my way to a Legion meeting carrying a rather heavy load of Handbooks. In spite of myself I let her relieve me of it.

16....Gave Of Her Best

She sought always to adapt herself to the tastes and even to the weaknesses of others, making herself "all things to all." When she met casual acquaintances, she would talk about whatever she knew to be of interest to the other. Sometimes it would be the latest in pictures, or sports news, or dress. She gave equal attention and sympathy to all sorts and classes, and no matter how tiring or dull a person's conversation might be, she seemed to find it interesting. Perhaps it would be truer to say that she made it interesting by her personal contribution~ For her, nothing mattered except the opportunity to do good, to give pleasure to others and glory to God. A conversation that gave her such an opportunity was interesting to her on that very account.

On several occasions I was able to observe how she gave of her best to all whom she met. She did not seem conscious of exterior differences in people; whether they were rich or poor, clever or dull, annoying or charming, it was all the same to her. She greeted them and talked to them with equal friendliness. It sometimes happened that her wholehearted giving of her time to others put my patience to the test. For instance, if we met someone who wanted to stop and talk, even if there seemed to be nothing of importance to say, Edel would linger and enter into the conversation as though she had nothing else to do, even when we were rushed for time.

She once asked me to wait a moment while she called on a poor family. I waited patiently for the first ten or fifteen

minutes, but after that every moment seemed, like an eternity. Finally the door opened and I heard the laughing voices of the family and of Edel, as she took her leave so cordially that one could have believed the people to have been her nearest relatives.

17...Sympathy

She always spoke kindly of people in their absence, although she was not above making a joking allusion to some peculiarity of theirs. We both knew a priest whom we reverenced greatly, but who had a habit that we did not much like; at least I did not like it, and Edel knew that. He used to address girls he spoke to as "little dearie."

We knew, of course, that he had contracted this habit as a help in the apostolic field in which he worked' so zealously. Sometimes, when Edel and I met after I had been to a function where she had not been, she would jokingly ask me if I had seen "Iittle dearie"!

Edel had a deep respect for all priests and I cannot recall any word of criticism spoken by her about anyone of them. Her spontaneous reactions came from a deep feeling of sympathy. Once she and I were talking to a young priest who was telling us how he had been beaten in an examination. He and some other University graduates had entered for an examination which carried a valuable money prize for the winner of the first place; there were also two other good prizes .. This priest said he was sure of taking first place because he knew the other men who were entering, and he knew that he was better prepared than they .

There was also a girl competing but he did not worry about her - she was only a girl! Then, to his great disappointment and surprise, it was the girl who came first and he got only the second prize. At that point, simultaneously, Edel and I ,expressed our feelings - so very different. "With a

little triumphant laugh I said: "Serve you right!" but Edel, more sympathetically, just said: "Hard luck!" 18...Eagerness To Help ,

Her most extraordinary quality was 'perhaps her seemingly unlimited buoyancy. When the opportunity came she would display an overflowing energy and brightness in her gift of self. For as long asI knew her I never saw her. looking tired" or dragging her step. On the contrary she was always eager to run around helping people.

I remember being with her at a social evening she had organised for young girls aged about fifteen who were doing a course of training as nursery maids in a children's home. After the tea there were games in which she played a full part, running, jumping or sitting on the floor as if she were the same age as the girls. Yet she was at that time quite ill; it was not long after her return from the sanatorium.

On several·occasions I noticed this apparently overflowing energy. A casual observer would have thought her a young girl in the best of health. I used to marvel at her, while feeling incapable of imitating her, despite the fact that I was in normal health. I was even then convinced that she must have been receiving extraordinary help from God.

I have heard that she was accused of failing in charity towards others by going around while ill with T.B., thereby risking infecting others. It must be understood that in Ireland at that time, at least in our circle, there was no great fear of the contagion of T.B. The general opinon was that there was danger only for those who slept in the same room with T.B. patients, and that grave danger of infection existed only during the last six months or so before death. I am sure that Edel did not think there was the slightest danger for others by being merely in her company, any more than we feared infection when we were with her.

19..Concern For Sisters

At first, after coming home from the sanatorium, she shared a room with her younger sisters, but she pressed her family to change residence so that she could have a room to herself. This was no easy matter because her father was fond of the sea, and the flat in which the family then lived had a fine view of the sea. Mr. Quinn, naturally, did not want to change.

Edel however insisted strongly, and told her parents that if they did not move to another more spacious residence, she would have to find lodgings for herself elsewhere because she could not in conscience continue to share a room with her sisters, thereby putting them in danger of infection. This was enough; the family moved to the house on Monkstown Road now known as her home.

Certainly, if Edel had thought that merely living in her sisters' company was a danger to them, she would have refused to live in the same house, just as she had refused to share their r

oom. Anyhow, the facts seem to be in her favour, for no one, as far as I know, whether friend or relative of Edel, contracted T.B. as a result of having been in contact with her.

Edel did not take very seriously the medical judgments in her regard because she had experienced their uncertainty. One doctor declared her free from T.B., but a fortnight later, her mother, who was dubious, brought her to another man who said her two lungs were affected, one of them seriously.

Edel laughed at that as a good joke, as she did when some people told her she had only a year to live. She did not worry about her future and simply abandoned all that concerned her to God. Her sole wish was to make the most of whatever time remained to her for the glory of God, and the good of souls.

20...Apostolic Zeal

Since ill-health had closed the door to a religious community, Edel decided to devote herself to the Legion of Mary apostolate. From then on this became the work of her life. Although she was no longer assigned to working for the street girls she frequently visited the Sancta Maria hostel to entertain the inmates and to help them to persevere in the good resolutions that had brought them there. She would sometimes spend weekends in that hostel to allow the indoor sisters to enjoy a little respite.

It happened that, on one such occasion, there was a scene among the inmates, a scene more painful than usual, which caused Edel to shed tears. One of the other legionaries who was present at the time spoke to me afterwards about it and said, "You can imagine what it was like when Edel cried; it was the only time in my life I have seen her crying."

Later I spoke to Edel about what had happened but she answered very vaguely, obviously wishing to avoid an unpleasant subject. I forget her actual words but they left me with the impression that what had grieved her so deeply was the sight of the moral degradation of certain souls.

She was always full of enthusiasm when speaking of the Legion of Mary and its work for souls. She followed the spread of the Legion with the deepest interest and gave her time and her strength, without stint, to any Legion work she could do. She willingly undertook Legion extension trips in her spare time, and could always be relied upon to lend a hand for any extra thing that turned up.

I remember her coming along to help the start of a new praesidium in the Dominican girls' boarding school at Sion Hill, although she had no occasion to do so. She would never think of asking herself whether she was under an obligation to do a good work. She was only too delighted to discover the opportunity.

She wrote to me after her short experience of extension work in Wales in 1936, and told me that a lot of help could be given to a priest by a Legionary who would offer to go and live there to share in the work of the apostolate. She added that she herself was thinking of doing it. Now, of course, everyone knows that her destination was changed and that she was to go to Africa.

21...Her Letters

Shortly after her arrival in Africa, she wrote telling me about her first success in the founding of praesidia, and asking for prayers for the work there. She said that the priests in Africa were wonderful. She was always travelling and rarely spent more than two consecutive nights in the same place. She told me how glad she was when she could spend a night in a convent, and spoke of how kind the nuns were. She added that they did her laundry for her. "Tell it not in Gath," she added playfully, "and sometimes a little mending!"

Soon her letters came less frequently. She was evidently much absorbed in her work for the Legion in Africa. Anyhow, it was not long until World War II put a forcible end to all correspondence between us. It was also responsible for the destruction, by obedience, of the letters I had received from her since entering the convent in Italy. The danger of possible indiscretions in letters, in case of a search by occupying army authorities, brought an order to burn all our correspondence, so Edel's had to go with the rest.

The destruction of the far more numerous and more interesting letters that Edel had written to me while I was at home I had considered, before entering the convent, a necessary step towards the fulfilment of my vocation. This may now seem regrettable. During the absence of either of us from Dublin we exchanged long letters - about two or three a week - in which we discussed the ideas that had impressed us in the books we read or the sermons we heard ..

22..."Very Near To God"

It was extraordinary with what ease and certainty Edel decided promptly on all occasions what action she had to take.

She had an unusual capacity for treating with others and avoiding indiscretions. Her wisdom and exceptional capacity in this field had impressed itself so much on her own family that ••• even her parents looked to her for advice on difficult and delicate problems. Her father used to call her "Granny" on that account. When her brother or sisters were being sent to a new school, it was Edel who had charge of the negotiations.

I remember that her manner of acting with such prompt assurance on all occasions roused some misgivings in my mind. I wondered whether it was in keeping with the humility which in all other instances shone out in Edel.

It was Reverend Mother Mary Martin, foundress of the Medical Missionaries of Mary, who gave me the key to this mystery. After the departure of our spiritual director for religious life, Mother Mary (at that time Miss Martin) helped me to find a new director. She put me in touch with a very renowned priest, an expert who suited me, but whose direction Edel could not decide to follow. She did not feel at ease with him since she had to treat with him in connection with her brother's studies in the college in which this priest was a professor.

Anyway, Edel had some difficulty in finding a director and for a while she had none. I spoke to Miss Martin about Edel's difficulty. She was not intimate with Edel; their acquaintance was merely casual; but she said on that occasion that she thought Miss Quinn one of those rare souls who do not need a director because they are under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Then she added: "I have observed Miss Quinn; she is very near to God." These words, coming from such a person as Miss Martin, made a deep impression on me.

23..Example Of Prudence

One day Edel and I went to have tea in a little private hotel, usually the resort of elderly serious people. We wanted to be undisturbed while we talked over our projects. I think it was shortly before I entered the convent. To our surprise, a non Catholic clergyman who had finished his meal came over to us on his way out and began chatting. He evidently mistook us for non-Catholics too.

He asked us whether we were members of his congregation, and he named his church. We said we were not, whereupon he began to exhort us to go there, telling us that two young ladies like us could do a lot of good and draw others by our example.

Edel kept looking at him with a rather amused expression. I opened my mouth to tell him that we were Catholics but Edel quickly pressed her foot on mine under the table to hold me back. The clergyman went off, saying that he would be on the look-out for us in his church the following Sunday.

I asked Edel why she did not let me tell him that we were Catholics. I do not remember her exact answer but it was to the effect that she did not want to become engaged in an argument with him. This was probably more prudent than my attempted intervention would have been.

The only sphere in which EdeI's prudence seemed to me rather doubtful was in the matter of her own health. It may be that she was acting under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and was therefore above the general law of prudence. The lives of the saints give many examples of similar conduct, among the more recent that of her model, the Little Flower. Anyhow, it would seem that God approved of her action, for she lived much longer than was expected.

24...The Valiant Woman

As regards the care of her health, she probably belonged to the category described as "more to be admired than copied." Her prudence was probably of the sort that draws inspiration from the words of Christ, when He tells us that if the grain of wheat dies it will bear much fruit. Still, she was not completely regardless of her health. I recall how one evening when we had to go to the Dominicans of Tallaght, and had not time for our evening meal, Edel bought two large bars of chocolate which we ate on the way out. She would also lean back in her chair when seated because her lungs required that position.

In Edel, justice and love were blended. I never knew her to fail in the virtue of justice. Not only did she strive to give to God and to her neighbour all that was due, but she went far beyond that. She was most conscientious in the fulfilment of the duties of her state of life. I remember having to wait in Callow's garage while she finished the firm's correspondence, even when it was past leaving time. I think of Edel as the "Valiant Woman" of Scripture. It seems impossible to explain such energy and joy of soul in one so undermined by a dreaded disease, otherwise than by the supernatural gift of fortitude. It was truly impressive to see how energetically she behaved on all occasions, not just from time to time, but always.

No less remarkable was her joy and serenity in trying circumstances. Her good humour was unfailing. Moods had no place in her life. During all the time I knew her, I saw her just a little downcast on only two occasions and this struck me as something quite strange and surprising.

25...Clouds-And Sunshine

The first occasion was on the evening of the farewell party given by the Legion in Regina Coeli to Father Boylan before he left to become a monk. Tea was served from large urns by the legionaries. Although Edel was one of the organising committee, it was thought better not to let her help in serving tea because it was feared that the urns were too heavy for her.

Before the party began, a few of us plotted together to get hold of all the urns quickly, as soon as they were filled, so that she could not get one. The plot worked all right and Edel had to be satisfied with sitting at one of the tables and letting herself be served like the other guests. We were well pleased with our achievement until after the party when we were putting on our coats, ready to leave. Then one of the "plotters" came to me and said: "Edel is very vexed with us for not letting her help with one of the urns; she won't even speak to us. Come and see if you can do anything."

I went along and spoke to Edel, but she did not answer. Then I said: "Edel, I am surprised at you!" - and I really was, never having seen her vexed like that before - whereupon she replied in a somewhat lively tone: "You may be."

That was all she said. Evidently her feelings were strong on that occasion. We had prevented her from giving a last sign of gratitude to a priest who had helped her greatly and to whom she felt indebted. Anyhow, she accompanied us on the way home and her little spell of vexation had passed off. Probably her emotion had been too strong to allow her to take part in the conversation.

The other occasion, of a lighter nature, was when I went to visit her one afternoon in her own home. She had not her usual bright smile and her general manner revealed that she felt rather upset about something. I asked her what was the matter and she told me she had been blamed very severely, without any real fault on her part. She considered it unjust and said she felt upset. I agreed with her and said a few words of consolation. After a few moments her smile and cheerful manner returned.

Quite often Edel had fits of coughing while she was speaking, but as soon as she regained her breath her face lit up and she continued the conversation as though there had been no interruption.

She avoided, as far as possible, any illusion to her health. If others raised the subject or asked how she was, she would reply: "Grand, thank you," and change to another subject, sometimes enquiring about the health of the questioner.

When I visited her in hospital a couple of days after she had been operated on for appendicitis, she was sitting up in bed, smiling. I asked her how she was feeling and she said that she felt well as usual. Then she remarked that I had a cold and said, laughing, that I was the invalid, not she, and she gave me advice about curing my cold!

26...Edel At Home

She sometimes asked me to spend the afternoon with her at home when she knew that a certain friend of her mother's was to be there. She wanted my presence to act as a brake on the well meant effusions of this good lady who had a habit of wailing over Edel's poor health and telling Mrs. Quinn all that she ought to do in order to take care of her daughter. Edel found this distasteful, as she did any fuss made about her.

She ate very little and abstained from things normally necessary for an invalid. She thought nothing of missing a meal; this was especially the case in the early stages of her illness. Later her spiritual director told her to eat meat and to rise a little later in the morning, and she did so.

She retired late at night and took her rest on a hard bed. I discovered the latter fact accidentally one day when, in her room, I sat on the edge of her bed on which I leaned with my hand towards the middle. It felt so hard that I exclaimed: "How can you sleep on such a bed? It is as hard as a board."

Edel, who was standing in front of me, looked most embarrassed at my discovery and, seizing me by the arm, drew me away to the other side of the room.

It is quite possible that she had a board in her bed, because some time after this accident she told me how her brother had filled her with confusion. It was the time of the Eucharistic Congress, when a great influx of visitors had occasioned a call on all citizens to offer lodgings insofar as it was possible. Edel had proposed to her brother that he should sleep in her room while she would sleep elsewhere, so that her brother's room, which was better than hers, could be offered to some visitor. Her brother refused, saying, "No, thanks; your bed is probably a plank!" Until that moment Edel thought that her brother knew nothing about her spiritual aspirations or her way of life.

When she and I shared a room during an enclosed retreat in Baldoyle in winter, the nuns put hot jars in our beds each evening. The first thing Edel did on entering the room was to take out her hot jar and put it on the floor where it remained till morning. During the retreat she kept silence perfectly although we were only two in the room. It was I who chose to share the room with Edel on this occasion; she had no choice in the matter. I had organised the retreat and there were so many applicants that the nuns had to put at our disposal a room with two beds, not usually occupied during retreats.

27.....Shedding Joy

Christ told His apostles one day that He would see them again and their joy would be full. He added: "And your joy no man shall take from you." The joy thus promised was evidently the beginning of the "Joy of the Lord" into which the good and faithful servant will be told to enter. It seems to me that Edel possessed a large measure of that joy. Nothing was able to deprive her of it even if, for a few moments on rare occasions, a thin cloud passed over the brightly shining sun of her inward heaven.

I can truly say that I never knew anyone else so radiant in expression, so joyful and so sweet and playful in manner.

One day when I went to visit her while the Quinns were still living in their fiat at Seapoint, I had to wait on the landing outside the living room until the noise the children were making inside subsided. Peals of laughter and little cries of amusement kept reaching me. Evidently a noisy game was going on. Then, when a lull allowed me to make my presence heard, the door opened and Edel came out to lead me to the drawingroom; her face, hair and general air of merriment showing that she had been taking full part in the fun. That was typical of her: she was like a sunbeam shedding brightness and joy all around.

She would laugh heartily at a good joke or at any little incident that had an amusing side to it. Indeed, sometimes it seemed to me that she laughed a little too much over trifling incidents. Once I asked her whether she was like that naturally or whether she cultivated such gaiety as a virtue. She told me that it was three-quarters natural.

I realised then that her high spirits were not merely due to a naturally cheerful disposition, but that probably rather more than the quarter sprang from the Father of joy communicating His own joy to her soul. She evidently cultivated joy as a virtue, probably wishing to resemble in that her heavenly model the Little Flower. Perhaps she laughed more in my company to cure me of being too serious.

28...She Laughed So Much

Before my entering the convent, we were reading the prospectus together, and in it gaiety was mentioned as one of the necessary qualities of postulants. I said to Edel: "I wonder if they will find me gay enough?" She answered: "Oh yes; I think you'd do!" and she added, with a twinkle: "You have improved in that respect, since I made your acquaintance!" She then laughed heartily.

Another day we were in a doctor's waitingroom. We had the room all to ourselves until a cat decided to come in through the window. Edel immediately jumped up and began playing with the cat all round the room, much to my annoyance because I wanted to continue our conversation. After a few moments I remonstrated with her but she did not stop at once; so then I said: "I think that is ridiculous." Edel ceased playing then but she said in a slightly offended tone: "I think you are very rude."

After her operation, she wrote telling me that the surgeon had told her jokingly that now, having had her appendix removed, she was lighter on one side than on the other. She then added playfully: "You always thought me rather unbalanced and now it is un fait accompli." Of course I had never thought her unbalanced. My sense of humour was far from being as keen as hers so I could not always see why she should laugh so much. Perhaps sometimes she laughed simply from sheer fulness of joy. She was probably akin to that ancient Irish monk who was always brimming over with gaiety and who, when he was asked

the reason for his great happiness, said that it was because he possessed God and no one could take Him from him. Edel could have given the same answer to that question if it had been put to her.

I

happened to have the opportunity of verifying that her radiant serenity of countenance was not merely the effect of a desire to be pleasant company. One day when on my way to Dun Laoghaire on the top of a double-decker tram that passed Edel's home, I saw her seated in her room quite near the window, slightly bent towards a table at which she was busy at something, probably writing or reading. She did not see me, but I saw her clearly and I was struck by the radiance of her expression

On that ocasion, as indeed habitually, she seemed to me to be, as it were, clothed with the divine Presence. That was the remarkable thing about Edel: in spite of her lively and playful good humour, she never seemed dissipated. One felt all the time that she was really living in God's Presence. One seemed to "feel" Him in her (if such an expression can be allowed).

29....Union Of Will

Edel had a special esteem for obedience. For her, obedience was not servile submission, but simply love in action; for it assures us of doing always that which is most pleasing to God. What Edel sought in obedience was simply the most perfect possible fulfilment of the divine will. Thus her obedience and her love for God were one and the same.

When she had a spiritual director she obeyed him in all that was necessary for her spiritual guidance. Her director led his penitents to the practice of the virtues of religious life insofar as that was compatible with the duties of their state in life, although he did not allow them to make a vow of obedience to him. He insisted especially on the practice of poverty .

think Edel had made a vow of poverty by which she obliged herself to submit for his approval all expenses she wished to incur for her own needs, except in the case of little things such as stockings. It was rather the sum to be spent that was fixed. Through obedience on this point, she provided herself once with a winter outfit so dowdy and unsuitable to her that her family objected.

She persisted in dressing like that during all that winter, but at Easter she blossomed out in a very fashionable and becoming ensemble. When I met her thus attired I exclaimed in surprise, whereupon she laughed and told me she had yielded to her family's remonstrances. She did not think she could continue to inflict on them the displeasure she had caused them by her winter outfit. She had probably come to an agreement on this point with her director.

Before I entered the convent, we were discussing one evening the Rule under which I was going to live. When I pointed out how all the life of the religious of our Order was regulated by obedience, often even the smallest details, she expressed her lively satisfaction because she believed that in such a life one could be fairly sure of doing continually what was most pleasing to God.

30...The Hidden Gem

Another remarkable trait of Edel's character was her deep humility. In her it took the form of self-effacement. To all whom she met casually or who had only superficial contact with her, she showed herself as a rather light-hearted modern girl, always laughing and joking, taking a great interest in whatever might interest them, whether news or amusements or anything else. She thus tried to put into practice Our Lord's advice, "When you fast ... appear to men as not fasting."

She had a perfect horror of being made an object of special esteem. Realising that some people would pay her this tribute if they knew her way of life, she did all in her power to let as little as possible be known about any practice that went beyond the ordinary duties of all Catholics.

Even her closest friends were kept very much in the dark about her interior life. She never spoke of it to any of us directly, but to a few she did indirectly reveal the riches of her soul. I know only one person to whom she spoke thus intimately in my presence, a nun who had been her teacher at school. She brought me with her one day to visit this nun. When she had introduced me, she said to the nun: "She is one of us; we can talk," and we conversed intimately about God and the spiritual life just as we would have done had we been alone together.

Edel asked me to repeat for the nun a sermon I had heard on the Passion, which I had previously repeated to her. The preacher, a discalced Carmelite Father, had made clear the ever-present nature of the inner substance of the Passion. He had pointed out that, as far as God is concerned, the acts of the Passion are present eternally. Time does not count. We can be present in spirit on Calvary every time we rise above the accidentals and unite ourselves to Our Lord, the Word made Flesh, as the Sacred Humanity suffers and dies for us. This sermon pleased Edel greatly. I cannot now recall it all but it / was in line with one of our favourite themes, already mentioned.

31...Revealed Very Little

Generally she endeavoured to hide the secret aspirations of her soul- even from priests and nuns; perhaps even more so from them because, in their case, the danger of drawing their esteem might have been greater.

I noticed that, after I entered the convent, her letters to me were much more commonplace than those she wrote to me while I was at home. I realised that she wrote thus to avoid revealing any of her soul's secrets to those she knew would read the letters before giving them to me. Of course, as I have already said, even to me she had revealed very little - and that little only indirectly. She believed in keeping the "Secret of the King."

I was always convinced, judging from her conversation and her life, that she received special graces in prayer - graces of light and contemplation, enabling her to gain a deeper than ordinary understanding of the great mysteries of the faith. She was extremely reserved where this was concerned. One felt that she probably had a secret to hide. Like Our Lady, she kept all the interior graces she received, "pondering them in her heart."

It is said that Mary, the most humble of creatures, proclaimed in the Magnificat that God had done great things to her, seeming to infer that there is not necessarily any lack of humility in making known God's graces in our souls. Still is it not worthy of note that Mary spoke thus to her cousin Elizabeth only after God Himself had revealed to Elizabeth the great grace granted to Mary? Previously, with St. Joseph, Mary had kept her secret - and at what cost!

The Magnificat was rather an explanation of that favour, showing that it had been granted to her only by the power of God, who had deigned to look down on her lowliness. Was not Mary's intention that of turning away from herself the honour that Elizabeth had paid her as soon as she saw her? Be that as it may, Edel felt drawn to imitate Mary's silence with St. Joseph rather than her canticle with St. Elizabeth; although she did say the Magnificat in Mary's name every day.

32...Crystal Clear

Edel's whole life and personality gave an impression of transparency; something about her made me think of a diamond. All her words, acts and manners were marked by a transluceny purity.

Never, for an instant, during all the time I knew her, did I see in her anything that could offend in the slightest degree against the most angelic purity, not even as a joke.

She once told me that she liked dances. She expressed displeasure at a wholesale condemnation of dances announced by young priest of our acquaintance. She told me then that she had never found in dancing any occasion of sin for her, or danger of temptation. Later on, the same priest modified his ideas and said that in the light of recent experience (probably confessor) he was ready to admit that dancing was not necessarily sinful. Personally I can give no opinion on the subject for I never went to a dance in my life.

Although Edel was the most friendly person one could meet, and the warmest in her greeting, she showed no sign of sentimentality. Her strong and pure love made itself felt in way that excluded any hint of weakness. For instance, she d not use terms of endearment, nor did she embrace her frien except on formal occasions when, on meeting, a kiss was t conventional greeting, as is sometimes the case between womE

She and I were bound to each other by a very dear frien ship but we never, except on the sort of formal occasion jl mentioned, kissed or caressed each other, nor did the idea doing so ever enter our heads. Neither was there even ; exchange of words of tenderness. Our friendship was simply t mutual communication of our intimate thoughts, our comm interests and our spiritual desires, and the joy we experienc in such communication.

33.........An Ideal Friend

I

Before meeting Edel, I had often longed for an ideal friend with whom I could share my most secret aspirations. My wish was granted when I found her, yet she was careful to avoid letting our friendship be an occasion of hurting the feelings of her other friends. When one of them happened to join us, at

-once with great friendliness she made room for the newcomer between us. This even gave me the impression that I had only a secondary place in her affections ...

It was only on the eve of my departure for the convent that a remark made by EdeI's mother, during a momentary absence of Edel while I was in her home, assured me of the contrary. I then understood that on the above-mentioned occasions Edel had acted by virtue and not by nature.

As I have already said, Edel had sought and obtained the approval of her spiritual director for our friendship. I am sure that if this had not been granted, she would have broken it off.

She came to see me off at Dun Laoghaire when I left for the convent, together with my family and other friends. She made no demonstration of grief, but a few days before, she had made me a present of a large edition of the Little Flower's autobiography and writings in which she had placed a picture with the date fixed for my departure written on the back and the word:

Fiat voluntas tua!

34...A Revealing Discovery

On my way to the convent I spent one night in a religious house. Knowing I would be stopping there, Edel sent me a comic postcard which I received while there. I t almost shocked the good religious who gave it to me. It showed a man at his front door, speaking to a rag-man who asked him: "Have you any old thing that you want to get rid of?" The man replied: "No, not today; my wife is not at home." EdeI's message written on the back of the card was simply one of good news from home. Of course, her intention was to cheer me up, knowing that I would probably, on that day, be feeling nearer to tears than laughter.

It was only years later, on reading Cardinal Suenens'

Life of Edel, that I learned the story of her relations with Pierre, her suitor whom she refused. She had never given me the slightest indication of ever having had an affair of the kind. I was really amazed when I read of it and I understood, better than ever I did while I was with her, the depth of her virtue. It is most unusual for a young girl not to speak to her special friends of any offer of marriage she receives: it is so pleasing to self-love, even if one has no intention of accepting.

I was also rather surprised to read that Edel talked a lot about her family with some people. With me she spoke little about

them but that may have been because I had made their personal acquaintance. I am inclined to think that with some she talked about them in order to please the listener. She always made a point of talking about whatever she knew would be most interesting to the other.

She loved her family very much and used to ask for prayers for any member who was ill or in any special need. She told me how homesick she was and how she used to cry when she had to leave them to return to school. She would also, of course, tell me about any unusual event in the family life, such as, for instance, her sisters taking up new jobs. But she was not in the habit of bringing up her family as a subject of conversation.

35.....Lasting Impressions

Looking back, I can truly say that Edel Quinn left an indelible mark on my life. She was like a bright light that shone on all who approached her, but more especially on her friends. This light gave out not only brightness, but also warmth - the warmth of love. I can still feel its effects. Her friendship was a source of constant joy and happiness. One could not fail to be better for having known her - at least, so it seems to me.

lt was through knowing Edel that I came to a deeper knowledge of the unspeakable charm and lovableness of Our Lady. One day I had an intuition of the beauty and charm of Mary, as an amplification of the spiritual charm and radiance of Edel. At that moment Our Lady seemed to me more wonderfully beautiful and attractive than she had ever seemed previously.

My first inclination was to reject that intuition as being "too good to be true." But then I thought: "Why should it be too good to be true? If she, an ordinary young girl, was so delightfully sweet and charming because of her close union with Jesus, surely the most holy Virgin Mother of Jesus must be incomparably more so." Thus Edel was an indirect and unconscious occasion for me of a loving knowledge of Mary - far greater and, I think, far truer than I could otherwise have had.

I often pray to Edel and I received a very important and precious favour of a spiritual nature which I attribute to her intercession. However, it does not fall into the category of a miracle that could serve to advance her cause for beatification.

What seems to me most wonderful in Edel is the perfection with which she succeeded in blending very contrary elements: the attractiveness and manners of a modern young girl of her

time and a deep interior life; strength of will and an exquisite femininity; the wisdom of old age and the playfulness of a child; a spirit of austerity and a gentle, unfailing kindness - and even indulgence - towards others; an inviolable reticence about her interior life and a spontaneously friendly manner; a delicate sensitiveness and an unfailing patience and sweetness in all sufferings and trials; a physique weakened by disease, and a courage and strength of soul capable of surmounting all obstacles. Finally, an exceptional capacity for consoling those in grief or pain and an unquenchable fountain of joy in her soul's depths - a joy that she could, and did, share with those in pain, without hurting them; for it was none other than the "joy of the Lord," above all sentiment. Her joy was the brimming of deepest love and so could be poured out on a suffering soul, to comfort and to heal.

Here we see Edel Quinn through the eyes of a friend, a contemplative nun who knew her as a fellow Legionary of Mary. Edel was born in Kanturk, Co. Cork, on September 14, 1907. Prevented by ill-health from entering a Contemplative Conventat 20 she joined the Legion of Mary in Dublin and gave herself completely to the Legion apostolate. In 1932, seriously ill, she spent a long time in hospital but decided to resume Legion work.

In 1 936 she was appointed Legion of Mary Envoy to establish the Organisation in East and Central Africa. Working alone, battling against great obstacles, not least exhausing ill-health, she established the Legion on an enduring basis even as far as Mauritius in the Indian Ocean. She mobilised thousands of Africans in the service of the Church, and hundreds of Legion branches and multiple Councils were firmly established.

"What boundless trust we should have in God's love!" she noted down. "We can never love too much; let us give utterly and not count the cost," After eight years of heroic labour Edel died in Nairobi on May 12, 1944. The Diocesan Process, first step towards her beatification. has been set in motion by the Archbishop of Nairobi.

Ad Jesum per Mariam

WHO WAS EDEL QUINN?