Odile was ripe for heaven. Whether the state of her health announced it,
or God gave her a secret presentiment of her approaching end, on the 13th
of December (S. Lucius’ Day) she called together her companions in the
Chapel of S. John the Baptist, which had become her oratory, and, after
begging them not to be afflicted at what she had to say, she sweetly
announced to them that she was near the end of her earthly pilgrimage, and
her soul, ready to quit its prison of clay, would soon enjoy the liberty
God has promised his children. Then the holy abbess exhorted them to
remain faithful to the Lord, not to allow their fervor to relax, to resist
with all their strength the temptations of the adversary, and to submit
their wills to that of the Almighty.
While she was speaking to them her three nieces, Attale, Eugénie, and
Gundeline, shed floods of tears. Our dear saint, seeing their profound
grief, turned towards them and said: “Weep not, beloved children. Your
tears cannot prolong my existence here below. Go rather, all of you, to
the Chapel of Our Blessed Lady, pray together, recite the Psalms, and beg
for me the grace of a happy death.” As soon as all the community had gone
out to obey her wishes, the saint fell into an ecstasy, in which she had a
foretaste of heavenly joys. Her companions, returning from the chapel and
finding her insensible, began to express their sorrow that she had
departed without receiving Holy Communion. The saint, aroused by their
sobs and groans, opened her eyes and said: “Why have you returned so soon,
my dear children, to disturb my repose? I was in the presence of the
Blessed S. Lucius, and inexpressibly happy; for, as the apostle says, the
eye hath not seen, nor the ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart
of man to conceive it.” She then expressed an ardent desire to receive the
most Sacred Body and Precious Blood of our Lord. All at once, says the old
legend, a flood of dazzling light pervaded the chapel. The saint fell on
her knees, all the Sisters imitating her example. A celestial ministrant,
radiant with glory, appeared at the altar. He approached the dying abbess,
placed in her hands a wonderful chalice, and then reascended to
heaven.(68) She communicated therefrom, murmured a last farewell to her
children, joined her hands, and then the eyes, once opened by a miracle,
closed for ever to the light.
According to her wishes, her body, extenuated with fasts and other
austerities, was laid on a bear’s skin, and exposed for eight days in the
Chapel of S. John the Baptist, on the Gospel side, and with the feet
turned towards the altar. During this time a sweet odor spread throughout
the abbey. Her children felt that, instead of weeping for her who had
fought the good fight, and never been wanting in her fidelity to God, they
should rather rejoice that she was called to receive the crown of
righteousness, and they to imitate her example and seek through her
intercession for as happy an end.
Thus died, on the 13th of December, 7—,(69) Odile, eldest daughter of
Adalric, Duke of Alsace, abbess of the convents of Hohenbourg and
Niedermünster. Her mortal remains were covered with mastic, which, at
first soft, became hard; then placed in a tomb of stone, which is still to
be seen.
The inmates of the two monasteries celebrated her obsequies with all the
solemnity due to their abbess and foundress, and with the recollection due
to her sanctity. All the people of Alsace flocked to Hohenbourg to look
once more on the face of her to whom the unfortunate and the afflicted
never appealed in vain. Her inexhaustible charity, her zeal for Christian
perfection, her austere and penitential life, and her good works without
number, had during her life rendered her the object of public veneration.
As soon as she was dead a particular honor was paid her, first at
Hohenbourg, then throughout the whole province, which to this day invokes
her as its patroness. This honor has been sanctioned by the church. Her
venerated sepulchre is in our day the most frequented place of pilgrimage
in Alsace.