"THE STIGMATIC
FROM WOONSOCKET, RHODE ISLAND"
Marie Rose Ferron –American Mystic, Stigmatic and
Visionary (1902-1936)
Sources: “Crucified with Christ” by Herbert George
Kramer S.M., P.J. Kenedy and Sons, 1949 and also the
excellent book “She Wears a Crown of Thorns”, by Rev O.A.
Boyer S.T.L Benzinger Brothers, 1949.
Early Years
Marie Rose Ferron, affectionately known as “Little
Rose”, was born on May 24th, 1902 in St Germain de
Grantham, Quebec, and was the tenth child of a family of
fifteen children. In 1906 when Rose was 4 ½ years old,
her family moved to Fall River, Massachusetts. Then, on
May 25, 1925 they moved once again to Woonsocket, Rhode
Island where she remained the rest of her life.
At the age of six, Rose had already had a vision of the
Child Jesus. "I saw Him with a cross," she said, "and He
was looking at me with sadness in His eyes."
When she was seven, Jesus taught her a French prayer
which she recited daily until her death. It reads:
"Lord Jesus, when I reflect upon the words You have
uttered, 'Many are called, but few are chosen,' I begin
to tremble for those I love, and I beg You to look upon
them with mercy: and behold, with infinite tenderness,
You place their salvation in my hands, as it were; for
everything is promised to him who knows how to suffer
with You and for You.
"My heart bleeds under the weight of affliction, but my
will remains united to Yours, and I cry out to You:
'Lord, it is for them that I want to suffer!' I want to
mingle my tears with Your Blood for the salvation of
those I love! You will not turn a deaf ear to my cry of
sorrow and You will save them."
Even at a young age, Marie-Rose showed an unusual piety,
devotion and a grasp of heavenly and spiritual things.
It was not at all difficult for her for example, to
listen to and follow a sermon just as a grown¬up does.
And when Mass was over, she did not rush out to play,
but preferred to remain at her place to prolong her
thanksgiving.
When Marie Rose reached thirteen, she became seriously
ill as a result of carrying dinner to her father on a
slushy early-spring day. Her right hand and her left
foot now seemed paralyzed. Remarkably however, her hand
was cured when she took holy water one morning after
Mass two years later. In an instant it opened and once
again she could freely move her fingers. But her foot
never healed, and for twelve years she was unable to
walk without crutches.
Understandably, Rose saw herself destined to be
handicapped for life, and thus a air of sadness and
loneliness held sway over her girlhood. One summer
morning, when she was seventeen, she felt her misery
more acutely than usual. Writing about the occasion
years later she recalled how she felt. It was a Sunday,
and from her window she could see her sisters and their
friends chattering and laughing as they left for church.
"The life that overflowed from these girls, seemed to be
the best that the world could give, and I contrasted
myself with them. I felt crushed. I saw myself
miserable, destitute and abandoned by God; I thought of
my infirmity, of my crutches, I was heart-broken and I
melted into tears."
Another affiction that affected Rose deeply was her
inability to attend school. "I felt as if I were blind,
groping in the dark," she said. "I had nothing to look
forward to, no hope of bettering my condition. I beheld
my ignorance ever before my eyes, and that discouraged
me more than my infirmities. Time, that softens
everything, even sufferings, increased my own: they
broke my heart."
The “La Sentinelliste” affair
In 1922, the Bishop of Providence R.I., Reverend William
Hickey, launched a million dollar campaign for the
construction of several new high schools in his diocese.
It was at a period that favored the raising of funds for
such a worthy cause. But, although the bishop did not
expect any collection to be endorsed in all quarters, he
never surmised that this drive would meet a wave of
bitter opposition from the ranks of the French-speaking
Catholics, so traditionally loyal to the Church. They
did not debate the validity of the drive. They
questioned his right to assess their parishes, which
already supported their own elementary French schools,
even though the drive was for high schools.
By 1924, a leader had arisen to crystallize the movement
around a weekly newspaper called “La Sentinelle”. The
paper spared no words in attacking the bishop, and its
circulation grew. By 1927, its followers had become so
obstinate that they refused all financial support to the
Church. The bishop was now obliged to resort to drastic
action. He ordered his priests to refuse the sacraments
to all who persisted in their opposition and he was
obliged to excommunicate the fifty-six leaders.
At the height of the unhappy episode, the broken-hearted
shepherd of the Providence diocese looked for someone to
give him supernatural assistance. He knew he needed a
victim soul to suffer for the division that was
separating the flock entrusted to him. Knowing of her
extraordinary piety and devotion, he chose Marie-Rose to
make reparation for the dissenters and to spiritually
assist him in bringing them back to the fold of Christ’s
Church.
And a victim soul was indeed Marie Rose mission. Marie
Rose’s mother, Delima Mathieu Ferron, was of a rare
virtue. From her first pregnancy she had dedicated each
of her newly-born children to a mystery of the Rosary
and having fifteen children she had thus completed all
fifteen decades. Marie-Rose, or simply Rose, as she was
often called, was destined to be the child dedicated to
the tenth mystery, the Crucifixion, and it was she whom
Bishop Hickey called upon in his distress.
A few years before, Rose met a priest who taught her how
to suffer and sacrifice out of love for God, so that by
the time Bishop Hickey called on her, when she was
twenty-five, she had completely accepted the mystery of
suffering for herself, and could even say that she
hungered and thirsted after it, and that suffering was
to be her state of life. And, by this time she had been
bed-ridden for five years.
And so, the bishop called on the Ferron home because he
knew he would meet there a victim who would be willing
to offer herself as a living holocaust for his diocese.
On her part, Rose recognized "a good heart" in the
bishop. He felt so much at ease in her presence that all
resistance broke down and he wept bitterly. "My child,"
he pleaded, "will you suffer for the Diocese of
Providence, for its priests, and for those I was obliged
to punish?"
"I will do whatever you ask," answered Rose without
hesitation. "I am willing to suffer as you wish and for
the return of those you have excommunicated. I accept at
once. It will be my mission to pray for their return."
The bishop thought that Rose should reflect some time
before complying with what might become a veritable
martyrdom. He accordingly left the room for a few
minutes, in order that she might consider the full
import of her acceptance. When he came back, Rose
reiterated her consent.
Calm began to settle slowly over the Sentinelliste
battlefield. Many thought it was the calm before a fresh
storm. A lone victim was however obtaining graces for an
entire diocese through unusual, mystical suffering. Once
in ecstasy, she was heard to plead: "Take away my
speech, if that will help. Take my eyes! Take my mind!"
And with her eyes glistening with tears, she added:
"Take everything I have and cherish. I am ready to
suffer until the last one is converted, even one hundred
years if You so wish it!" And later she said- "This
affair will bear good fruit for both sides, and with
Jesus I rejoice because of it."
Remarkably, one by one, all fifty-six rebel children of
the Church bowed in submission and obedience to their
Bishop.
One day, when Rose was twenty-two, the house was filled
with the odor of freshly baked bread. Her younger
sister, who was munching a crumb, invited her to have
some: "Oh, Rose, it is delicious!"
"I can't," answered Rose, who already knew the
exigencies of her stomach. "If I do, I may die."
"To die from eating or from hunger-what's the
difference? Try at least."
Rose tried and suffered as if she were actually to die.
When all was over, her left hand was deformed. It was to
remain crippled until her death.
What is even more remarkable is that thereafter she
partook of no more solid food. Rose herself attested to
this fact, as did also her mother. For eleven years,
until her death, Rose took only liquid food and even
this she was at times unable to keep. Realizing that she
could receive Holy Communion, a priest once gave her
some tiny unconsecrated particles. They promptly made
her ill. Moreover, four years before her death, she did
not even drink water during a period of three months.
But Rose felt hunger and thirst, as all who dwelt in
contact with her very well knew. It was at the price of
long and protracted craving for food that she was able
to subsist on a diet that would have been insufficient
for an ordinary person.
"Little Rose," had begun her role of victim without
foreseeing what type of suffering was in store for her,
nor what unusual signs God was to work in her martyred
body. Her abstinence from food and drink was only the
beginning of many extraordinary mystical phenomena and
of deep suffering. Throughout it all, she remained
docile to authority, both medical and spiritual, and
with delicate discretion tried ever to avoid publicity.
A detailed biography is not the object of this brief
sketch of the life of Marie Rose Ferron. Her trials, her
love for suffering, her stigmata and the content of her
ecstasies and visions will be treated somewhat in
detail, because they alone bring into relief her
intimacy with Christ crucified. Other phenomena of her
mystic life can be found in the excellent biography "She
Wears a Crown of Thorns" by the Reverend O. A. Boyer.
Suffice it to state here in passing that while in
ecstasy she could not be lifted, even by 4 grown men,
although she weighed not more than seventy-five pounds.
Moreover, her body remained rigid, except when she spoke
or wanted to use her hands while in conversation with
Christ.
Her Devotion to the Eucharist
Bishop Hickey authorized a private oratory next to
Rose's room. When Mass was said there, especially on the
feasts of the Blessed Virgin, Rose would drop into
ecstasy at the opening prayers but she always revived at
the moment of Communion. Generally, the instant she
received the Sacred Host, her head fell back and she
again drifted into ecstasy. Not the slightest movement
of her throat muscles indicated that she was swallowing
the Host, although It disappeared instantaneously. Many
priests noted this fact, even one who did not to believe
in the mystical authenticity of Rose's experiences.
In fact, Rose's love for the Eucharist was intense. She
had been accustomed to the daily reception of Communion,
when suddenly it became impossible for her to
communicate more than once a week. Rose suffered acutely
from this isolation from her Eucharistic Lord. Once the
priest was absent for two weeks. She was counting the
days one by one until the Saturday when he was again to
bring her the Blessed Sacrament, only to be told that
morning that he was not coming. "When later she spoke of
the incident," writes her biographer, "her eyes fiIled
with tears and as they ran down her cheeks, the intense
pain that they betrayed was revealed in her words. The
words were simple and few, but they could move a dead
man's bones. I am not sensitive, but this time I felt an
acute pain all through me. . . . I shall never need a
greater proof of the martyrdom that girl suffered when
deprived of the Blessed Sacrament."
When the priest learned that Rose lay constantly on a
board to which she was tied, he was so profoundly
impressed that he made arrangements for bringing her
Holy Communion twice a week. During this same period,
Rose became completely separated from the three priests
from whom she had sought spiritual direction. Her
isolation from them and the infrequency of the
Eucharistic visits of her Spouse lasted several years.
They were years of living by pure faith, amid deep
sufferings, both physical and mental. For the remainder
of her life, she was to wonder how she had been able to
survive without having lost her mind. But she clung to
the anchor of Faith and the Providence of God and found
security in utter docility to her confessor's authority.
Her Stigmata and wounds of the Scourging
Rose Ferron was one of the most completely stigmatized
persons on record. Whereas perhaps only thirty or so
have borne the five wounds and the crowning of thorns,
Rose had all of these, as well as the shoulder wound and
the bleeding from the eyes.
The wounds of Christ's scourging had appeared now and
then during the latter part of 1926. But it was during
Lent of 1927, a few months before Bishop Hickey sought
in Rose a victim for his diocese, that these wounds
began to appear regularly every Friday. The red and
purple stripes were clearly visible on her arm, which
seemed to have been lashed with whips. The wounds
swelled and hurt like burns.
Two days later, before the eyes of her biographer and
another priest, the wounds of the nails appeared in her
hands. Her feet too bore the marks of the nails. Rose
had the sensation that her blood did not circulate
beyond the stigmata in her feet, but the blood "streamed
forth" from them. In describing the piercing of the
muscles of her hands, Rose explained: "I feel them
tearing apart; they seem to separate into shreds and to
be drawn aside."
A priest who examined these wounds in 1930 wrote:
"The blood gave a sweet-smelling odor unkown to me,
somewhat like a perfume; my hands became saturated with
it....It was not a transitory smell, since the odor
persisted till the following morning."
The stigmata of the heart began during the Lenten season
of 1929. They brought such sharp pains to Rose that she
sometimes fainted into unconsciousness. She said that
the interior pain was "frightful." At times the pain was
felt intensely in her back, "where the lance seems to
have stopped.", she said.
The wounds of the crown of thorns resembled, in the
mother's words, "two heavy cords that encircle her
head." The holes made by the thorns themselves made Rose
feel "as if her head were breaking open." These thorn
stigmata never disappeared completely. They were still
visible after her death, as shown in the photograph to
the left
Finally Rose suffered from the shoulder wound, which
likewise brought her acute pain.
The five wounds and the crown "came to stay," but the
others appeared every Friday and disappeared on Saturday
as rapidly as they had come, without leaving a trace. On
Fridays, when the bleeding would begin, Mrs. Ferron
would lock the doors of the house and would admit only a
few visitors who had obtained special permission.
Rose was embarrassed at feeling herself an object of
study and would keep the stigmata under cover. Some of
the visitors fainted upon seeing Rose in agony. Such
incidents caused great annoyance to the bereaved mother.
"It is hard to keep the people out," she once remarked,
"but when they faint, it's far worse to nurse them
back."
The capacity for victim-suffering in this poor little
Rose, crushed under foot as it were by her divine
Gardener, was not yet filled. Like Him she had suffered
from a scourging, from being pierced as if by nails,
wounded in her heart, crowned with the piercing of
thorns, and bruised on her shoulder. Yet had she to shed
still more blood in order to fulfill her mission as
victim in union with Him. But then, He had preceded her.
Meek as a lamb, He Himself had been led to slaughter. In
Him therefore Rose found strength. She found even love
for the passion He was completing in her reduced body.
As the story of pain unfolded with the months and the
years, the realization that she was a victim grew more
vivid. She knew that she was being tortured in the place
of others and she accepted her vocation of bearing in
her own body the physical pain spared them. In that,
too, she resembled her Master, whose love prompted Him
to bear mankind's punishment in its stead.
"Dear Rose," a priest once asked her in a lapse during
her Friday ecstasy, "you suffer so much! How is it that
Jesus whom you love so much, as you told me yesterday,
treats you in such a severe way?""
"The caresses of Heaven are not like those of earth,"
she said simply, and then fell back into ecstasy and "in
undescribable suffering."
The flow of blood from her eyes and mouth- her
conformity to the Holy Face
"Tell Father Boyer that the night before last, for the
first time, Rose's eyes bled and the blood dropped like
tears." Thus spoke Rose's sister to a friend to whom she
telephoned one day in August, 1929, referring to the
most impressive, the most heart-rending, sufferings of
Little Rose.
In the same month, the physician attending Rose was
overwhelmed with emotion at this sight and exclaimed to
all present: "It is terrible! Believe all you see! She
is a wonder." Rose was also bleeding profusely from her
mouth at the time.
Rose once asked of her mother and a couple of visitors
near the bed: "How is it that I lose so much blood, when
I have so little?"
Hardly had she uttered this question when she lapsed
into ecstasy and began to speak: "Oh! It is Your Blood
that gushes from me! As for me, I am nothing, nothing,
my Jesus!"
At the end of this month of August, a friend wrote in
testimony of these unnatural hemorrhages: "After seeing
my dear little Rose this morning, my heart is oppressed
and I am thinking only of her. Oh, if you were to see
her! This morning at seven o'clock, her mother called me
and asked if I could come over. I arrived at 7:45 A.M
.... , and I heard her say to me: 'Don't fear, Madame.'
She was simply one blot of blood; her poor eyes were
bleeding; her entire face was unrecognisable ... ; she
suffered so much that she could not keep her head still.
It is the assistant who brings her Communion. He is so
affected that he cannot speak and leaves right away. . .
. Recognizing the doctor who substituted for the regular
physician, I told him before he entered: 'You will be
surprised at seeing her this morning; she is all covered
with blood.'
How surprised he was! He could not speak and Rose told
him: 'Don't talk about it, Doctor, please.'
'No, certainly, don't fear,' he answered, and she
removed her headdress to show him her head. . . He could
not and did not want to speak to her. It was all he
could do to tell me a few words.... This evening I
returned at eight o'clock.
. . . She was worse than this morning. . .. Rose
represents the Holy Face-it is the same thingl"
A few days later, a gentleman who had visited Rose put
his experience into writing: "I have never been so
surprised in my life. It was truly Christ's face, such
as it is seen in the pictures of the Holy Face. Her face
was covered with blood; a person could not see anything
more pitiful. One feels like dropping on one's knees
when seeing her."
In June, 1930, the same man wrote again: "I was there
last Saturday. She was in a frightening state; she had
been like that since Friday. . .. I had never seen her
like this before. There was so much blood on her face
that one could not see the cavity of her eyes. All she
could say was: 'My Jesus!' ... I cannot write about it
without weeping. . .. I wanted my wife to see her in
that state. So Sunday at about three o'clock, we went to
see her. ... When we arrived, she was as beautiful as
she could be, but very weak."
There are various descriptions of Rose's sufferings on
Fridays, during which the progress of the crucifixion
could be followed. She would repeatedly ask the time,
clearly awaiting the hour of deliverance. As three
o'clock approached, she would begin to tremble and ask
all to leave the room in order that she might be alone
with her dying Savior.
Father Boyer has described Rose's agony on a Friday of
November, 1929: "At 11:00 A.M., the cavities of both
eyes were filled to the brim .... The night before, I
asked her why she did not wipe it away. She answered,
'By wiping it off, the skin is often taken along with
it; but, if I leave it, the blood dries and scales off
the following day.' And still by leaving it, she felt
the blood burning, as though it were an acid."
"The right eyebrow was split open while I was there, and
as the wound enlarged, the surroundings of the eye
became blue, yellow and black .... I have seen many
bruised eyes; but that one was the worst I have ever
seen. The very sight of it was painful. The right side
of the lower lip, also, was split open, and as the
swelling increased, new wounds were formed on the chin
....
"After dinner time, she entered into ecstacy, her right
arm straightened out; if her left arm, which was tied to
her body, had stretched out in the same way, she would
have been in the form of a cross. Shortly afterward, she
writhed with pain, her lips clenched and trembled and I
could hear the muscles snap, as the arms seemed to be
pulled out of their sockets .... Suddenly the movements
stopped, her head jerked backward and while she was
gasping for breath, I heard the sound, "krish, kroosh,...krish,
kroosh," at short intervals .... Was it the tearing of
the muscles that made that sound, as if the limbs were
pulled out of their joints? As I heard them, they seemed
to me as though the pains of Christ echoed from Calvary
.... Rose felt as though her bones were out of their
sockets, but still touching one another on ends. To
avoid the pain, she did not dare move. . . . At times,
Rose would clench her teeth to overcome the torture. The
chill of death made her shiver, and cold sweat would
appear. At that moment, she said: 'I thirst.' They gave
her water to drink .... Rose repeated a second time: 'I
thirst,' and the third time she added: 'I thirst for
souls.'
"Finally ... her chin dropped, her mouth remained open
and the pallor of death suggested a corpse."
A physician from Massachusetts assisted Rose at a number
of these crucifixion sufferings. After the ecstasy, he
helped her bring the dislocated arm back into its
natural position, for the joints were out of their
sockets. Explaining the situation in his own words he
stated:
"This sometimes took half an hour to perform and was
accompanied with excruciating pains. Two weeks before
her death I did this three times the same afternoon. . .
. I never could understand how that girl could suffer so
much!"
The inevitable question of official medical observation
finally arose. We have Rose's own description of her
acceptance of this proposal in August, 1931:
"In July, I bled every day as on Friday. It was
terrible! I felt that if the authorities were to do
something, it was the time. I had no repugnance to being
examined at the time and was willing to submit to the
ordeal. But on the first of the month, the Friday on
which I bled so regularly and for so long a time, on
that very day, there was no trace of blood and even the
wounds could hardly be seen. That day, Father called to
tell me that I would be examined in two weeks. On seeing
me, he said, 'What! Today, Friday, and there is
nothing?' It's strange, but since then my wounds have
not bled."
Rose was pleased at the temporary relief afforded her
parents, for their helplessness over their daughter's
torments allowed them little peace of mind. She had even
asked her director if it were wrong for her to pray for
the removal of all exterior signs of the stigmata.
During an ecstasy she had prayed: "Oh my Jesus, I wish
to suffer more and more, but spare my parents. Increase
my sufferings, if You will, but allow no one to see
them. Put a smile on my lips and a ray of Your glory in
my eyes and show them that I am happy."
Her sincere and humble prayer was answered. During her
last five years on earth, she bore no stigmata, except
those of the head. But her sufferings did not cease.
Every Friday, the blood rushed to the members that had
borne the wounds and caused even greater pain "than
before. Rose wondered if she should not ask for the
wounds to reappear, to which a priest replied, "God has
brought them about and God has taken them away. If God
wants their return, He can do so without being asked."
The official medical investigation was never made.
But Providence has seen fit to leave ample medical
pronouncements on Rose Ferron's case to convince persons
of open mind. A truly valuable testimony is that of one
physician who died before Rose:
"I have had all kinds of doctors examine Rose," he
averred, "and none of them can explain her case on
natural grounds. To me her case is supernatural, because
no one could have lost so much blood during the years
and live." Referring to the very small quantities of
liquid food which were her sole nourishment, he added,
"She is sustained by God alone. I am thoroughly
convinced the manifestations are supernatural."
Equally valuable is the statement of one of Rose's
physicians seven years after her death. Having in the
meantime made a thorough study of Bremond, Tanquerey and
other masters of mystical science, he stated in a letter
composed at his own initiative, "Would that I had had
the preparation when I treated Rose Ferron. However, I
feel honored when I think of the many phenomena I
witnessed, and it is with pleasure that I now can affirm
that Rose was a genuine mystic. I can see the stages she
went through to the ultimate spiritual marriage and
complete union with her Jesus. I now admire her complete
abandonment to God and her simple humility. Her stigmata
are ever fresh in my memory, as well as her great thirst
for souls."
The little victim of the diocese of Providence knew no
more repose here below. Not only was her body and mind
racked with pain, but she seems not to have slept for
years, except perhaps when she would swoon into
unconsciousness from sheer pain. From midnight until one
o'clock, Rose kept her "Hour of Reparation." Then for
three hours she busied herself as well as she could with
her little crafts. She had learned to make book marks,
to braid, and to repair rosaries. "I cannot remain
idle," she once remarked. "My little Jesus wants me to
work."
And when someone questioned how she performed her tasks
with but two fingers and her mouth, she replied, "My
little Jesus comes and helps me." After four o'clock,
she "dozed" for two hours. But Rose insisted that she
did not sleep. In fact, she was aware of all that
happened in the room.
Such a life of hunger, pain, and helplessness, with no
promise of early relief in sight, was a supreme test of
patience. The most providential of witnesses to Rose's
spirit of long-suffering was perhaps a Protestant friend
who attended her faithfully to the end. Two days before
Rose's death, she wrote as follows:
"Little Rose was truly a martyr; she always wore a
smile, however great the pain and agony she suffered. I
have cared for her day after day, week after week, year
after year . . . ; I have seen the wounds she carried,
the wounds which resembled the wounds of the crucified
body of Christ.
"On Friday, the wounds were more prominent and would
always bleed. During the Lenten season, as Holy Week and
Good Friday approached, her sufferings were much greater
and the agony which she suffered at times was beyond
human endurance and the bleeding during this period was
much greater.
"... I can say that she never complained, she always
smiled, although in agony.... I have been blessed beyond
expression by her friendship."
Her humility
Such patience is hardly conceivable in a stigmatist
without deep-rooted humility. Rose's humility shone
forth not only in her constant effort to avoid
popularity and exhibition, but in many details of her
life, as for example in her simple acceptance of
complete poverty during the Depression, when her aging
father had no work, when doctor bills could not be paid,
and when she depended entirely upon public charity. Even
in her ecstasies, she remained a little Rose. In one of
them, our Lord seems to have proposed that He raise her
to the honors of the altar, for she responded: "Be on
the altars? I am too little for that!"
Rose's humility, her reserve, her smile amid agony, "a
smile full of frankness, a childlike smile which
ravished one's heart," were so many tones vibrating into
an ensemble of noble charm that was not unlike the
attractiveness of Saint Therese of Lisieux, the Little
Flower. In fact, a priest, who had lived in Lisieux and
as a boy had known the Carmelite saint, testified that
"Rose has not only the physical resemblance of the
Little Flower, but she has also her power of attraction;
when we are with Rose, we don't know when to leave and
when we are gone our hearts irresistibly cling to her
memory. That is why the Little Flower influenced me and
all the children of my age who visited the Carmel. Her
personality impressed us so that she seemed to follow us
wherever we went.... During and after my visits with
Rose, I went through the same experience as I did years
ago when I visited the Little Flower. She inspired me
with the same confidence and I really have the same
veneration for both of them."
Many visitors to Rose's home shared this priest's
impression. If some came out of mere curiosity to see
her sufferings, still more came to meet "a soul of
crystal" in which they perceived the most beaming
reflections of the supernatural they had ever
encountered. They loved hearing her speak because of the
mingled serenity and abundance of heart that filtered
through her words. While she was in ecstasy, her prayers
aroused in the bystanders deep emotions of contact with
the supernatural. This crippled girl, who had formerly
felt herself an outcast because she had no education,
expressed her thoughts with a careful apropos that
astonished visitors. Her constant and intimate union
with God had supplied whatever human education had
failed to furnish her.
However as with all mystics, her lot was not without its
brunt of calumny, gossip, and ridicule. But she was too
generous of heart to retaliate. "Even were I to try to
hate and blame those who work against me, I could not do
it," she explained. "It seems that I love them still
more; and I have a desire to pray for them."
The true explanation of Rose's tenderness towards
others, even those who slandered her, was her tremendous
love of God. "0h Jesus, the happiness I have in loving
You outweighs the martyrdom that I endure," she once
exclaimed.
Her ecstasies
Little Rose was joyful amidst her sufferings, and she
was radiant in the intimacy with her Divine Spouse. "How
sweet it is to rest at Your side, 0 my Jesus!" she
repeated during an ecstasy in 1934. "You know that I
love You!"
At times during her ecstasies, often in the middle of
the night, Rose sang hymns in French to Jesus, Mary, and
Joseph. They were not hymns that others knew. She
composed the melody and words in rhythmic prose as the
emotions of her soul progressed. Several of these hymns
were copied by her friends. In 1929, a priest from
Montreal recorded the following in French:
"Oh Jesus, yes, I love You,
and I want without a cloud to love You more than myself.
Oh! It is for You, my Jesus, that I wish to suffer.
O Jesus, it is for You alone,
for that would be my heavenly Father's will."
This lifelong love for Christ in suffering led Rose
instinctively to prefer devotions that honored His
Passion. The month of the Precious Blood was for her,
who had bled so much in her own victimized body, replete
with inspiration. "It would take so many lives like mine
and others," she said admiringly, "to make up for just
one precious drop of His Blood."
Rose's preference among pictures and statues of Christ
was definitely for those that depicted Him in suffering.
She loved above all a statue of the Scourging, because
it held graphically before her eyes the price of wounds
and blood that the Man of Sorrows had paid to redeem
mankind. Blessed Brother Andre Besette, the Brother of
the Congregation of the Holy Cross who radiated sanctity
far and wide from his porter's room at Saint Joseph's
Oratory in Montreal, Canada, was likewise impressed by
this statue on a visit he paid to Rose in 1931. For
twenty minutes he studied it thoughtfully. That evening
he expressed to a friend his desire to have a statue
just like it. When Rose heard of it, she reflected in
prayer over Brother Andre's wishes. "If giving my statue
to Frere Andre would give Jesus more souls, why should
His Little Rose not make the big sacrifice?" she
concluded. On the Brother's next visit, Rose made "the
big sacrifice."
While in ecstasy on April 13, 1929, in the presence of
six visitors, Rose asked her Saviour how long she had
still to suffer, and then she repeated aloud the answer,
"Seven years!" She began to count the age she would have
after seven more years, and stopped at thirty-three.
Christ seemed to ask her if that were too long, for she
said with great eagerness: "Oh, no! Come and get me
whenever You want. I am ready to suffer one hundred
years, if You want it. It is my sacrifice to stay."
As was revealed to her previously, Marie-Rose Ferron
died in 1936 at the age of thirty-three. Death alone
released her from the suffering that pursued her day
after day. "God and the victims are the only ones who
know what is meant by the word 'Cross,' " she had
remarked, and her last two weeks were filled with the
overwhelming realization of the truth of this statement.
Rose could no longer see. She suffered such pains in her
head that the least sound was like a blow, and any noise
caused her to faint. On the last day of April, 1936, she
lost her hearing and speech completely. There was no way
of knowing what she wanted.
On May 6, Father Boyer called at one o'clock in the
morning. "I walked into the room," he wrote in his
biography, "and when I saw the condition in which she
was, I was moved with pity. I could not recognize her,
she was so changed; her face was not only disfigured,
but wrenched out of shape. Her eyes were half-closed and
in their corners thick blood was gathering; her
complexion was copper red and her skin appeared coarse
and swollen; her breathing was painful; her mouth was
open and twisted with a heart-rending expression. She
was like a dying crucifix, waiting for the consummation
of her martyrdom."
Rose lived five more days. In death she still had "the
expression of anguish imbedded in her face." But as the
women, whom she herself had appointed for preparing her
body for the coffin, were washing her face, its
frightful distortions disappeared. A change came over
her features at each stroke of the towel. Her
countenance emerged wreathed with a charming smile. She
was so natural that a doctor was called specifically to
ascertain her death.
In fact, Little Rose's beauty had long impressed her
visitors. In their testimonials of her phenomena, they
repeatedly commented upon it. When they saw her writhing
and bleeding in the atrocious sufferings of the Passion,
they failed to note the beauty of her features.
"Yesterday she was so beautiful," wrote one priest,
"today she is covered with blood."
Surely it was the inner beauty of her virtues that
radiated in her external countenance.
She was clothed in the habit of the religious
congregation she had founded after her Lord's
directions, although she died without seeing it progress
beyond the approbation of Bishop Hickey under the name
of the Sisters of Reparation of the Sacred Wounds of
Jesus. "Jesus will need this community before long," she
had said. As the thousands now filed past her body,
nearly fifteen thousand signed the guest book, they
broke out in admiration at her chaste beauty. The
editorial writer of a newspaper wrote:
"There are things one can never forget; for us it is the
radiant face of Rose Ferron. She was beautiful, but hers
was not a natural beauty, but rather a mystifying one: a
slight luminous emanation seemed to escape continually
from that angelic face."
~Marie Rose Ferron, pray for us!
________________________________________________________
"Oh Jesus, yes, I love You, and I want without a cloud
to love You more than myself. Oh! It is for You, my
Jesus, that I wish to suffer. O Jesus, it is for You
alone, for that would be my heavenly Father's will."
-Marie Rose Ferron

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