Francisco Castelló [Francesc Castelló] didn’t have an easy life. His dad died when he was only two months old. His mom and two sisters moved to be near family and his mom worked to raise the three kids. Just before his 15th birthday, his mom died too.
By then he was finishing up high school and headed toward studies in chemistry. He went on to become a chemical engineer.
Then, when he was just 22, his homeland erupted in bloody, violent civil war. Soon, he would become a martyr.
“Yes, I’m Catholic”
The young man had always been notably intelligent; his religious sensitivities were also strong. He participated in youth groups and was an apostle from a young age, attending to the poor of his town, and later on, sharing Christ with his coworkers.
Growing up as the “man of the house” undoubtedly gave him a maturity that marked all of his decisions.
In July of 1936, at the start of the Bloody Terror, he joined the army. Only 20 days later, he was arrested with eight of his companions. He spent 10 weeks in jail, subjected to torture.
Eventually taken before the “court,” he was accused of being a Fascist, which he denied, But then accused of being a Catholic, he emphatically, but simply, affirmed, “Yes, I’m Catholic,” which resulted in his death sentence.
Around 11:30 pm on September 29, 1936, in the cemetery of Lleida, he was shot and killed. His feast day is celebrated September 28.
3 Letters and a minor miracle
From prison, he was able to send letters to his sisters and the aunt (his father’s sister) who had cared for them, to a Jesuit priest who was a friend and spiritual guide and with whom he’d done the spiritual exercises, and especially, a final love letter to his fiancee.
The story of these final letters is itself a small miracle. A local Catholic in the town where the fiancee spent the summer, Puigverd de Lleida, got his hands on them as the so-called Republicans were tearing through the region, destroying churches, religious statues, and of course religious people.
This Catholic happens to be the backyard neighbor of a Spanish Aleteia contributor, who knows of this story firsthand.
The neighbor was worried the letters would be destroyed, and decided that he would hide them until things calmed down. Availing of the manure pile in his corral, he buried the letters, figuring they would be safe there until it was possible to retrieve them and turn them over to Church authorities.
That’s how it happens that we have the last three letters written by Blessed Francisco.
How do you spend your last moments?
The content of the letters is an invitation to reflect on the Last Things. When one knows he will face death in a matter of hours, what comes to mind?
For Blessed Francisco it was the absolute joy of heaven, and yet, there was no disdain for the goods of earth.
This chemical engineer took some of his final moments to draw a sketch of his idea for inventing an ammonia compressor. He told his priest-friend and spiritual guide that he had a booklet of similar sketches — his “intellectual will and testament” — and wanted it to be delivered to him. It’s the longest paragraph of the five short paragraphs he wrote him.
“I’m tranquil and content, very content,” he wrote the priest. “I hope to be able to be in Glory in just a short time.”
To his sisters and aunt, he requests that they transmit greetings and good wishes to a handful of people and he offers a word of encouragement to each one individually. He tells them:
They have just read my death sentence and I’ve never been as calm as I am now. I have the certainty that tonight, I will be with my parents in heaven. I’ll wait for you there. […]
My mission in this life has been completed. I offer to God the sufferings of these moments.
The letter to his fiancee is particularly tender, as he wrestles both with his own supernatural joy and the awareness of his beloved’s suffering.
Dear Mariona,
Our lives came together and God has wanted to separate them. To Him I offer, with all possible intensity, the love I profess for you, my intense, pure, and sincere love.
I feel your affliction, but not mine. You can be proud: Two brothers and your fiancé! Poor Mariona.
A strange thing is happening to me. I can’t feel any sorrow at my luck. An internal, intense, strong joy is invading me completely. I wanted to write you a sad good-bye letter, but I can’t. I’m entirely taken up with joyful thoughts like a foretaste of glory.
I wanted to speak to you about how much I would have loved you, of all the tenderness I had stored up for you, of how happy we would have been together. But for me, all of this is secondary. I have to take a big step.
One thing I do want to tell you: Get married, if you can. From heaven, I will bless your union and your children. I don’t want you to cry. I don’t want that.
I hope you’re proud of me. I love you.
I don’t have time for more.
Francisco.
Inspiration from a holy youth
Here are a few quotes from Blessed Francisco, to meditate with.
For each setback, a smile.
Never gossip. Rather, look at all the good things there are. Life has so many marvels to contemplate! Look to the sky, the birds, the trees, the plants …
In the apostolate, never let the sofa or the easy path be a temptation. Be people on your feet. (Here the young martyr uses a reference to the traditional shoes of the region woven of durable straw soles.)
If you have to correct someone, do it alone, and with love. Tell them that this defect is something that anyone could have, and I could too, but that I’ve been able to break free of it and experienced great joy.
Souls have to be won with work and prayer
And today we celebrate...