ORDER OF PREACHERS
The Dominican Family
Trinidad & Tobago

THE DIARY OF FR. COTHONAY, O.P.
Missionary Priest from France

PART ONE

October 1882 – January 1884

CHAPTER 3

St Joseph de Oruña — Baptism of a Dying East Indian —
First Communion of a Poor Leper

St Joseph de Oruña
January 20, 1883.

St Joseph de Oruña

This time I am writing to you from the ancient capital of the island where I am acting parish priest. For almost a century Port of Spain has supplanted it and poor San Joseph is only a small town of a thousand inhabitants. Together with the districts depending on it the parish has from 3,000 to 3,500 Catholics. Port of Spain, being a seaport, has all sorts of commercial advantages over it; but Saint Joseph, as regards beautiful situation, healthy surroundings and coolness, is certainly a better place. This former capital of the colony is only about ten kilometres from Port of Spain. The Spaniards, being men who knew what they were doing, chose an excellent site. From the presbytery one can see the immense plain which extends on one side as far as Mount Tamana and on the other down to Chaguanas and beyond it. Behind the village is the beautiful valley of Maracas which stretches for ten kilometres into the chain of mountains in the north of the island. The river which runs along it, clear as crystal, has a waterfall in its upper reaches of which even the Swiss would be proud, then it flows gently under an arch of bamboos which the rays of the sun cannot penetrate.

I have now been nearly a month in charge of the parish of Saint Joseph, whose venerable parish priest [Abbé Orsini] has just died. He was a protonotary apostolic and a tertiary of our Order, and in consequence one of our best friends. The people were very fond of him and mourned for him as they would their father. He was a Corsican by birth and was parish priest of Saint Joseph for eighteen years where he did great good. In particular he built, almost entirely at his own expense, a convent for the sisters of Saint Joseph of Cluny, who have a boarding school here as well as a large school for the children of the district. These nuns are, for the most part, Irish.

Some years ago they had a superior who was very anxious to find postulants among the young Creoles of Saint Joseph parish. She prayed to Saint Joseph, patron both of their congregation and of the parish. She reminded him that St Teresa had placed an obligation on him when she wrote that nobody prayed to him without being heard. So she told the great patriarch: “As compensation for the many sacrifices this establishment has cost us when we set up our little community here, we make a solemn request for seven good vocations from among the young Creole girls of this parish of which you are the patron.” What do you think the good Saint Joseph did? He generously complied. In less than two years, seven young girls of the parish entered the Congregation of Saint Joseph. One family provided three. Convents who are looking for vocations, please take note!

Baptism of a Dying East Indian

Yesterday, on my way back from a sick call, I saw a poor Indian stretched out in a ditch on the road. He seemed to me to be very ill. People were passing by without paying any heed to his miserable condition. Wishing to follow the example of the Good Samaritan I went over to him. He was a beggar, almost naked, with only an empty sack beside him. He seemed to be dying. I sent for a policeman and asked him to have the poor man brought to the hospital. He could not refuse me as he would be breaking regulations, but he consented with very bad grace. The hospital was a good distance away and it was getting late; so it was decided to keep him in the police station. This morning I went to see what had happened. The chief of police immediately said to me: “Reverend, this East Indian cannot be brought to hospital; he would die on the way.” That was what I thought too. Then I asked the Indian whether he would like to be a Christian, telling him that in order to save his soul it was necessary to believe in one God, the Creator, the Redeemer, etc.; in eternity, the punishment of the wicked and the rewarding of the good, assuring him that if he would believe what I myself believed and be baptized, his soul would be cleansed from sin and God would make him happy after his death. The poor man said he believed and he wanted to receive holy baptism. After a brief instruction, as you will understand, I baptized him and gave him the name of Saint Avit, the patron of my native place. He died some hours later. May he rest in peace.

First Communion of a Poor Leper

At present I am preparing for first communion a Negro who has leprosy. Leprosy is a real scourge in Trinidad. I have visited the leper hospital. There are almost one hundred and eighty there. They are cared for and have their sores dressed by the heroic daughters of Saint Dominic. But all the lepers are not in hospital. It is estimated that there are about five hundred in the island. Those who have the means have themselves looked after at home, as in the case of the man I mention. His resources are certainly very limited. All he has is a patch of land on which there stands a miserable cabin of about ten square yards and nine feet high, roofed with palm fronds. For furniture he has two badly fitted boards which serve as a bed, a small bench, calabash in which charitable neighbours place food, a jug and some rags. A devoted person has taken an interest in the poor man and has been instructing him for quite a long time so that he can make his first communion. Pierre (the leper) is very anxious to atone for the negligence of his youth and to receive his God.

He is a big man of about thirty years of age, and he contracted his disease five or six years ago. Up to last year he could still go out but now he is confined to his hut, and will not leave it until he is brought to the cemetery. Almost all of his fingers and toes have fallen off and the leprosy is gnawing the stumps. His face is so covered with sores that it would be impossible to place the head of a pin on some unaffected place. His sores which extend to the ears and cover his whole neck are purulent, bleeding and give off such a vile odour that to remain near the poor man, I can assure you, needs the help of religious faith. Nature shudders with horror and finds it revolting. If grace were not there to sustain it, it would not stand the test. I know nothing more repulsive, more frightful than a leper who has arrived at this advanced stage of the disease.

Still poor Pierre is perfectly resigned. I have asked him if he suffers much. “Yes, Father,” he replied, “I am suffering, but death will soon come to relieve me.”

“My poor friend, will you offer your sufferings to the good God, in union with Our Lord Jesus Christ who died on the cross for you?”

“Oh, yes, Father, I have greatly offended God.”

“Are you very anxious to make your first communion?”

“Oh, Father, I think of nothing else, day and night. When shall I have that happiness?”

These are some of the things I have heard Pierre say. Poor man! He is in such an awful state that I have become attached to him, and I struggle with myself to go and see him as often as possible, so as to complete his instruction and be able soon to admit him to holy communion. And yet, sin makes us more unsightly than a leper, and the Son of God deigned to be compared to a leper.

The clock has just struck ten and I ask permission to leave you for the moment and get some sleep.

Yours devotedly and affectionately ....