‘At Poperinghe we spent all our time making badges of the Sacred Heart for the wounded soldiers. Almost every day we went to visit them. This gave us the greatest joy. The first time we entered the large room No. 1, where they lay, some on beds, others on stretchers, we were struck with horror and pity. There they were, young men and middle-aged, from every department of France; some had been struck on the head, others on the chest, back, or shoulders, or else wounded in the legs. And yet not one complaint escaped their lips--only one poor fellow, who was delirious, called out as we passed by: “My head, my head! oh, if you only knew what it is to have such a headache.” Another soldier, just twenty-one, said to us in the patois of the South of France, “Franche! Franche! shall I ever see thee again!” We went from one room to another, speaking to each, and cheering them up. We gave them pears, and it used to be our greatest pleasure to peel them, cut them in small bits, and now and again we would put them in their mouths, when they were unable to move. They were as simple as children, and loved our visits. “Sister, you’ll come back to-morrow won’t you? It is so nice to see you, it cheers us up!” I remember one incident, which shows their simplicity. Dame Walburge and I had been going round, distributing small bits of pear, which they much relished as very comforting to their parched lips; but there came a time when we had exhausted our last pear, and still many soldiers had not had a bit. Of course next day we would serve them the first; but Dame Walburge whispered to tell me one poor fellow had been watching me so anxiously for some time. I turned towards him to say a little word of comfort, but he interrupted me, saying in a fretful, childish way: “Oh, Sister, and you have given me no pear, and I wanted one so badly!” In vain we searched our pockets, all the while promising he should be served the first next day. He repeated: “It’s to-night I wanted it.” We left the room sadly, wishing, for once in our religious lives, that we had a penny to buy him a pear. But Almighty God, Who is all-powerful, heard the prayer of His children; for hardly had I told this story to one of the nuns of La Sainte Union, than she gave me a pear, and though it was already dark, we ran back joyfully to our poor wounded soldier, who seemed dumb for joy, but his happy face rewarded us beyond words. ‘The unselfishness of the soldiers towards each other was marvellous; once, while peeling a pear for a soldier--one who was eating a piece of bread--he said to me: “Sister, I am sure my neighbour would also like a piece.” I turned to the other, who answered timidly: “Yes, I should like it; but see, Sister, I have a little bit of meat on my bread, and he has none, so give it to him!” Needless to say, I divided it between them.