Another prodigious occurrence, not unlike that we have just related and not less wonderful, happened very soon after. The same woman who had brought the flower to the saint was bidding her farewell on another occasion, and asked her again if she needed anything. Rita thus answered the charitable question: 'Since you are so kind, I beg that you will go to the same garden, where you will find two figs, which you will have the charity to bring me.' This time the woman did not hesitate a moment, but as soon as she heard the words hurried home, and in a short time was in the garden mentioned. There, on a leafless tree, she found the two ripe figs, which she plucked with renewed wonder and pleasure, and carried immediately to the sick nun. At the sight of this second wonder Rita broke forth into new acts of gratitude and love to the Lord, in which her sisters joined. The fame of these miraculous events was spread throughout the neighbourhood, and wonder seized on all the people, and they conceived a great veneration for the dying saint, whom they clearly perceived to be beloved by God. Thus compassed about with flowers and fruit, like the bride of the sacred Canticles,[1] Rita felt that she was languishing with love, and by this growing weaker, she eagerly desired to be free from the ties of the body, and at last take flight to enjoy for all eternity her Uncreated Good. Her chaste sighs were not in vain, for her Divine Spouse Jesus, accompanied by the most holy Virgin, appeared to her to announce the joyous tidings that in three days she should be taken from the world and from pain, and received into Paradise to receive the reward due to her virtues and sufferings. The vision disappeared, and joy inundated Rita's heart, and well was this known from that extraordinary and angelic serenity of her countenance which she preserved till her last breath, in spite of the pains and sorrows of death. The nuns alone wept as they stood around her bed. In these last moments of hers, profoundly moved by her tranquillity and the wonders they had seen, they had come to know her better, and to appreciate more perfectly her extraordinary virtues. In the midst of these tears the saint turned to her dear sisters, humbly asked pardon of all of them for any offence she might have given them and for the trouble she had caused, left them in remembrance of her beautiful words of peace, obedience, and piety, and then asked the blessing of the Superior. Her desolate sisters wanted, too, to get a blessing from her as a pledge of that charity with which she had always loved them, and with which they besought that she would love and protect them when she was in heaven. Rita blessed them, tried to console them, and then had no thought for anything but eternity.