DEVOTION TO MARY MAKES A MAN COURAGEOUS

Long ago, among the Trappist monks of Sept-Fons, in France, there lived a very old and infirm lay brother who always held his rosary in his hands. He was Brother Theodore, who had once been a valiant soldier.

In 1812, when the defeated French army was retreating from Russia, Theodore's column, exhausted by fatigue and hunger, came face to face with a Russian battery blocking their escape route.

Despair seized everyone: officers and soldiers threw their weapons to the ground. What were they to do? It was the dead of winter, and they had marched for long hours over snow and ice. What were they to do? Turning back was impossible. Moving forward? The powerful enemy battery stood in their way. Remaining where they were? That would mean condemning themselves to die of cold and starvation.

Suddenly, an officer stepped forward:

— Let the brave men come with me!...

A rare occurrence in the annals of our military history: not a single voice answered.

But I stand corrected. One man, just one, Brother Theodore, stepped out of the ranks and said:

— I will go alone, if you wish, sir.

With that, he removed his backpack and rifle, knelt in the snow, made the Sign of the Cross before everyone, and prayed a decade of the Rosary with unprecedented fervor. He picked up his rifle again and, with his head bowed, charged forward at a run, with as much confidence as though ten thousand men were following him.

He was about to reach the enemy battery when the Russians, believing that the French intended to attack them from behind while they were occupied with a single enemy, abandoned their guns and equipment and fled.

Master of the battlefield, our hero remarked with admirable simplicity:

— There you have it! There is nothing better than praying the Rosary to get out of a difficult situation.

The enthusiastic officer rushed toward him, took off his own Cross of Honor, and pinned it to the young man's chest, exclaiming with tears in his eyes:

— Brave soldier, you deserve it more than I do!

— Commander, replied Theodore, I have done nothing more than my duty.

Fifty years later, wearing his Trappist habit, when he spent most of the day kneeling in prayer, even in the harshest winter, he loved to repeat:

— I am doing nothing more than my duty!