Hi, this is Kylie. Thank you all for listening to Lent with the Saints and for sending in your questions. I loved hearing from you. I will be answering three of your questions in a bonus episode this weekend. This special episode comes out on Sunday at LentWithTheSaints.com or wherever you listen to the podcast. It's 1808. With the success of the Girls' School in Baltimore, Archbishop Carol has sent Elizabeth and her followers to rural Emmitsburg to formally establish the Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph. But when illness strikes again, Elizabeth's faith will be tested like never before. The Saints. Adventures of Faith and Courage. Elizabeth Ann Seton. Episode 5, Maryland. Listen to all the episodes and discover new shows at thesaintspodcast.com. Tell me again about Stonehouse. Oh, to be six years old with endless energy again. Sheep, white? Yes, Beck, and chickens too. And our very own chapel. How far away are the boys? Just a few miles away at Mount St. Mary's. We will see them three times every week at the very least. Look, the Stonehouse. It'll be perfect for us. Mama, may we go explore? Yes, Cat. Don't let Beck out of your sight. I won't. Come on, Beck. Mother Seton, welcome to the Stonehouse. I am glad to see you, Father Dubois. Happy to be here. You can look inside, but the plaster partition for the chapel isn't finished yet. You'll have to stay a few days at the mount until it's ready. Yes, Bishop Carroll told me that might happen. It'll be delightful to have our very own chapel for mass every day. Anina, are you all right? Mama, there is blood on my hand. No. Oh, dear God, please help us. Mama, there's only one bed. Who gets to sleep in it? I want the bed. Anina will sleep in the bed. What about us? Do you see the mats in the corner? We will sleep on those with lots of blankets. Why don't you set up our beds while I make Anina comfortable? Yes, Mama. Here, Anina. It's time for bed. I like the Stonehouse, Mama. It will be all we need. Come, climb into bed. Are you comfortable? Yes, I'm ready for sleep. Look, Mama. Very nice job, girls. Are you ready to sleep now? I guess so. Come. Good night, kisses, and then it's off to bed. Good night. Good night, Mama. I like my bed. It's like a little nest. I'm a bird. A little snuggly bird. Hush back. It's time for sleep. Do birds sleep? Yes. Well, then I will too. Mama, what are you doing? I am writing to Aunt Julia. Tell her I say hello. I will, Cat. Now go to sleep. Yes, Mama. Dear Julia, after a year in Baltimore, Maryland, my family and the women who joined me there have been sent off to Emmitsburg, a popular social headquarters for sheep, but not for people. We arrived late this afternoon, just in time to cook our dinner over an open fire in a makeshift lean-to beside the house. Oh, I miss my Manhattan stove. We have 260 acres of land with a little Stonehouse. They tell me we may be snowed in during the winter. Our neighbors are the priests and boys at Mount St. Mary's a few miles away. My dearest friend, please don't come visit. I have no bed to put you in as much as I'd love to see your face. You ask about Annina. She is my little saint, suffering with great faith. But her health only grows worse. The doctor says there is nothing to be done. Tuberculosis, just like my William. I don't know what I will do if I lose her. Dear God, make her well. Heal her. Thy will be done. Mother? Yes, Cat? The train bell rang. The girls will be arriving for their lessons in a minute. Sister Margaret said to tell you she'll try to keep them quiet. Don't. I like to hear them laughing and talking. All right, Annina. I'll tell her. Oh, Father DuBois will be here soon. We'll stop lessons as soon as he arrives. So, I'll tell you. I'll tell her. I'll tell her. I'll tell her. I'll tell her. I'll stop lessons as soon as he arrives for Mass and Annina's vows. Soon I'll be a sister of charity of Saint Joseph. That's all I want before I... Yes, my love. I'll bring Father DuBois in as soon as he arrives. Thank you. Are you comfortable, Annina? Yes, Mother. Thank you for holding me. You've gotten so small and fragile. God is making me into a little saint for him. If I could have taken you somewhere warm... No, Mother. This is the work God asked of you. You must be a mother to many. But I am your mother first. This work is all second to that. It isn't too late. We could leave and go. Go to Julia. She will do anything for you, my darling. Don't give up. I want to be here in this stone house. Our Lord is in the chapel on the other side of the wall. Where could be better than near Him? My brave, brave daughter! You are so wise for a girl of 17! Father DuBois is here to say Mass and hear Annina's profession of vows. Thank you. Annina is too weak to move. We will follow the Mass from here. Yes, Mama. Come, girls! It's time to go to the chapel for Mass. Open up your hymns and we'll sing Adorote Devote. I love this stone house. We are so close together. One heart, one soul. A heart with one heart. A heart with one heart. A heart with one heart. A heart with one heart. In response to the call of Christ, Who invites you to follow Him and be a witness to His charity to the poor. Do you, Anna-Maria Sitan Renow the promises of your baptism and vow to God for one year, chastity, poverty, and obedience, and to devote yourself to the corporal and spiritual service of the poor? I do. Receive this gold ring as a symbol of your commitment to God. Is she a sister now, Mama? Yes, Beck. She looks so beautiful. She looks so beautiful. There has never been a lovelier baby girl. She has dimples. You are fearfully and wonderfully made, Anna Maria Seton. Will you call her that? Both names? William calls her Amina. Oh, I like that. So do I. She will be our best friend and confidant. Oh, she giggled. Did you hear that, Julia? I did. Certainly a giggle. She's laughing at you. Oh, she's just too perfect. Can you say mama? Oh, what a giggle. Mama. Mother Seton? Mother Seton, I gave Anna her last communion. It is time to say goodbye. Goodbye, Anina. When you get to heaven, tell Papa I... I miss him. Why don't you go fix your mother something to eat? Mama. Yes, my love. Keep the school going. I don't know if I can. Not without you. Hazard. Yet. Forward. Yes. You're just like your father. Yes, Anina. You're like your father. Do you remember? Do you remember your fifth birthday? He made you a rocking horse. You loved it. He was more excited than you. Mother Seton, Anina is with God in heaven. No. She's with me. Let me take her. You should go get something to eat. No. No, she's a baby. She's my... my baby. Bishop Carol, I understand your impatience from Mother Seton to return to her teaching work. As her spiritual director and the school's chaplain, I must insist you give her more time to heal. Her head is too disordered for daily duties. Many mornings she still cannot make herself get out of bed. Her grief is such that I fear she will lose her senses if she is rushed. She needs time, Bishop, and the grace of God. How was today? I taught the morning lessons today. Beck is learning to read, and Kat has a natural talent for languages. We have a few girls who want to be boarders. Sister Margaret says we need a new building to fit everyone. She is right, of course. I am glad you are back at your work. If I was not obliged to live for these dear ones, I should unconsciously die in her. You are needed, Mother Seton. The church needs your vocation. I want to give up, Father. Please. Think of Anina, how she loved the Stone House, and think of William. Yes. I will come again for Mass tomorrow. Good night, Mother. Good night. Lord, wherever you go, I will go. Keep me close to you. Teach my children to fight it out as their mother did, relying on your providence and remembering what lies beyond the grave. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Mama! Mama! Beck, what's the matter? Mama, I have a bad dream. Hush, little one. Mama's got you. Pray with me to your heavenly mother. She will keep you close to Jesus, tucked inside her mantle. Yes, Mama. Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among us. Hazard yet forward. When Elizabeth died in 1821, her sisters of Charity of St. Joseph had opened schools for girls in Philadelphia and New York City, as well as Emmitsburg. Elizabeth's work was like a mustard seed, planted by God in Maryland, and it bore great fruit. Her work laid the foundation for today's Catholic parochial school system. St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, pray for us. Mary Beggars is the entertainment division of relevant radio.
