Good Friday, 1950

Extract

It was dark. Looking up from the floor towards the window I could feel, rather than see, the dawn breaking. But to try to sleep now was useless, even though the old priest in the next cell had at last become quiet. All night long his groans had sounded through the wall between us, getting more like a mad nightmare as the night wore on and as their echo rang up from the floor on to my ears and nerves. Old priests and old nuns left lonely in their cells during years of trial; it is not often that one has the grace of being so close to them, so I had asked God to let me share the old priest's pain; and the night had been long. The darkness lay heavy upon me, shutting me m upon my own emptiness.