Today is the feast of St. Jerome, Doctor of the Church. Jerome has a (deserved) reputation for being a bit of a testy curmudgeon, but, as sometimes happens with curmudgeons, he also got along very well with women, with several of whom he kept a close correspondence. The following is from a letter to Eustochium, the son of Paula, one of Jerome's closest friends, shortly after her death:
Be not fearful, Eustochium: you are endowed with a splendid heritage. The Lord is your portion; and, to increase your joy, your mother has now after a long martyrdom won her crown. It is not only the shedding of blood that is accounted a confession: the spotless service of a devout mind is itself a daily martyrdom. Both alike are crowned; with roses and violets in the one case, with lilies in the other. Thus in the Song of Songs it is written: my beloved is white and ruddy; for, whether the victory be won in peace or in war, God gives the same reward to those who win it. Like Abraham your mother heard the words: get out of your country, and from your kindred, unto a land that I will show you; and not only that but the Lord's command given through Jeremiah: flee out of the midst of Babylon, and deliver every man his soul. To the day of her death she never returned to Chaldæa, or regretted the fleshpots of Egypt or its strong-smelling meats. Accompanied by her virgin bands she became a fellow-citizen of the Saviour; and now that she has ascended from her little Bethlehem to the heavenly realms she can say to the true Naomi: your people shall be my people and your God my God.
I have spent the labour of two nights in dictating for you this treatise; and in doing so I have felt a grief as deep as your own. I say in 'dictating' for I have not been able to write it myself. As often as I have taken up my pen and have tried to fulfil my promise; my fingers have stiffened, my hand has fallen, and my power over it has vanished. The rudeness of the diction, devoid as it is of all elegance or charm, bears witness to the feeling of the writer.
And now, Paula, farewell, and aid with your prayers the old age of your votary. Your faith and your works unite you to Christ; thus standing in His presence you will the more readily gain what you ask. In this letter I have built to your memory a monument more lasting than bronze, which no lapse of time will be able to destroy....