Fianna and Samuel were my grandparents, and I’ve inherited a boxful of letters that tell their love story. It’s a simple story from a century ago, but their joy and their sorrow is timeless, a tale of love and faith in the midst of pain, a tale for today.
Their romance began in college. There they saw each other daily in classes and clubs, at chapel and in the dining room. She was slender and graceful with a quick smile, and he was handsome with dark curly hair. With similar family backgrounds, a similar sense of fun, and a shared religious commitment, they were well-matched. Samuel reflected later how their union was “the result of much prayer and careful thinking.“
Soon after Samuel finished college, they married and began their life together. A year later a baby boy arrived, and, before long, he had a little sister. Samuel worked in a bank and farmed while Fianna cared for the children and managed home, garden, and chickens. Contentment and happiness filled their home.
Then came the hard times. Fianna became mysteriously ill. She coughed a lot, had a persistent fever, and lacked energy to care for the children or do her work. The doctor called it pleurisy and advised rest, but she didn’t improve. Eventually they consulted another physician and discovered the truth.
Fianna’s trouble was one of the world’s oldest killers: tuberculosis. In the early 1900’s there was no cure or effective treatment. A few people survived though, and that kept hope alive for others. (Even with today’s antibiotics, this disease yearly kills a million and a half.)
Fianna and Samuel decided that she’d go to White Haven Tuberculosis Sanatorium, an isolated mountain facility far from their home. There, with rest and a special diet, she might have a chance. The regimen there (sleeping on the balcony in the snow! raw eggs and milk!) and the life among strangers was hard for Fianna. She remained cheerful, but she longed for her family. For Samuel, life at home without his beloved was painfully lonely.
Samuel’s first visit was at Christmastime. He brought gifts, their little son, and all his love. What joy it was to be together again! Although Samuel thought Fianna looked better, the doctors were not encouraging. Filled with both fear and hope, Samuel turned to prayer. “I walked out one day and back of the Sanatorium I found a path leading to the top of the mountain which overlooks the highest hills far and wide. When I came to the top, the occasion and quietude moved me to kneel on the pure snow and pray earnestly for the recovery of her who brought so much sunshine in my life. What more can I do than to pray, Lord I believe help thou mine unbelief.“
Fianna remained at the Sanatorium for three months, but her health steadily declined. Finally, the doctors told Samuel she would not recover. They encouraged him to take her home where she could be cared for by her family and surrounded by a community that knew and loved her.
Together Samuel and Fianna prepared for the long separation. They discussed how Samuel’s life would unfold without her. “She took much interest in my and the children’s future.”
Fianna’s gentle gratitude for the care she received and Samuel’s tender steadiness as he cared for her touched those around them. After a house call one day, her family doctor spoke about “her cheerful spirit” that continued in the midst of pain. Fianna’s sister wrote that “a day before she died, she said to me, “If there is an ideal home ours was one.“
Fianna’s last words were to Samuel. “I am going to my beautiful heavenly home.” He responded that he and the children would also come sometime, and Fianna whispered, “I will wait for you inside the gates.“
In The Prophet, poet Kahil Gibran wrote, “Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.” But I say unto you, they are inseparable.” May we, like Fianna and Samuel, face our grief and pain with courage and steadfastness, recognizing such times are woven into the tapestry of our lives as surely as is joy. May we trust, as Samuel wrote, “our God who can see both the sunshine and the shadows.”
NOTE: Moved by the joy and sorrow I found in my grandparents’ letters, I have written their story into a book, Fianna’s Story. It is available from Masthof Press or through Amazon. Click here to learn about it.