Now the convent building was completed, plaster and all, and the Sisters gratefully took possession of a neat snow white home. By this time the community of Sisters was reduced to two. On 3rd December, 1883, four months after their arrival, Sister Paul Joseph was already worn out by the cruel heat and privations of missionary life in a wilderness. She had to return home to France.
Sister Francoise Marie and Sister Louise Augustine, devoted labourers of the first hour, heroically stood by Father Simon and the Oblate Fathers through joy and sorrow, through sunshine and shadow, till death called them Home.
Augustine Duvernois, in religion Sister Francoise-Marie, had never felt any attraction for missionary life. If she came to the Missions in the most desolate stretch of South Africa, it was solely because she had vowed obedience to her superiors, and obey she would for love of her Saviour who had been obedient unto death, unto the death of the cross.
Still, on the eve of her clothing, she writes these intimate lines in her private notebook, pouring out her heart to her God: “My good Jesus, for more than a moth we have now been at Pella and I just cannot get used to it. Time seems so long. I want to go back to my community in France … Why, oh why should I feel this way, seeing it is You who sent me here by the orders of my superiors. It should be just the contrary.. Yet, in spite of all, I feel I could never stay on here. If I could but feel that true happiness which fills the soul on the eve of being clothed as the Bride of Christ! To think that for seven long years I have been looking forward to this day! Oh, if only I could be with our Father, our Mother and our Sisters. But here, six thousand miles from Troyes everything seems so hard, so painful Oh, Lord Jesus, my soul is sad. What will become of me, if you do not come to my aid? I would not leave the Convent for all the riches in the world, but, I cannot resign myself to remaim here …”
Then this final cry from the depths of her heroic soul: “But, oh God, if you will it, help me also to will it.”
God did will it, and Sister Francoise Marie stayed on, accepting in advance all that could crucify her soul to the cross which had borne her Saviour.
For forty two years she lovingly toiled for souls in Namaqualand, and her work brought forth fruit in abundance. She alone did not realize it. Bishop Simon, a daily witness of her virtues, paints a true picture of this courageous missionary.
“Sister Francoise-Marie’s motto was ALL FOR MY GOD AND SOULS. She was faithful to it till death. Her conversation with all those who came in contact with her, either catholic, protestant or heathen, rich or poor, white or black, led them closer to God and made them love Him as she herself loved Him. She was Straight and outspoken, firm yet gentle like her holy Patron, Saint Francis de Sales. One did not argue with Sister Francoise-Marie when she had spoken, you humbly acknowledged your fault and meditated on her words.
She was heroic when tending the sick. She did not wait to be called, but hastened to the sickbed at the first symptoms of a serious illness. She immediately diagnosed the ailment and administered her own medicines which always brought relief and sometimes radical cure.
Sister Francoise-Marie knew no bounds when it came to the care of incurables. Though the body was doomed, she reckoned, the soul could be saved. Whether it was for contagious or the most repugnant malady, she never failed. Where others less noble, would recoil in fear and disgust, she would hasten to offer her services and love, lest, she said, she would not be worthy to be called the Bride of Him who shed the last drop of His life blood for love of us.
A poor heathen was suffering of cancer. His nose and lips had been eaten away and his eyes protruding from the sockets, retained only by the optic nerve, hung down to the level of his mouth. It was a repulsive sight. When even his closest friends and relatives abandoned him, Sister Francoise-Marie spent hours at his side, instructing him. He became an exemplary Christian who in the hour of death, would praise God and thank Him for sending him a comforting angel who had taught him to love his sufferings and had opened the Gates of Heaven for him.
Those who had the privilege of seeing Sister Francoise-Marie at the bedside of the dying, will never forget it. Even in the last years of her life, when she could hardly walk, she would never think of leaving one of her children alone in his last struggle. Tenderly she would wipe his brow and whisper a prayer or bring the crucifix to his lips. Then it was as if she awaited the departure of the soul, to receive it and to lead it herself to the throne of the Supreme Judge.
Thus Sister Francoise-Marie devoted herself to the spiritual welfare of her people. For all that, the material interests were by no means neglected. An inborn economist, she did wonders at times of famine and drought. In the good years, few and far between, when Namaqualand “felt the benign touch of rain”, the convent pantry was rich with preserves and bottles of peanut oil, products of her ingenuity and the envy of our modern cordons bleus.
If sometimes her less mortified Brothers in Christ complained of weak coffee, watered down soup or threadbare garments, she would smile and wave them off with a cheery: “Keep your chin up. The good times are coming.” Such lightheartedness in the face of dire poverty, could but inspire her fellowmen to follow in her steps on the road of self-abnegation.
May God send us others like Sister Francoise-Marie and we shall assuredly gather an abundant harvest of souls for Heaven.