Little Francisco Marto was only ten years old when he died, occurring a year after the death of his sister Jacinta. While Jacinta seemed oriented mainly on prayer and sacrifices for ‘poor sinners’, Francisco’s main focus was consoling God. Although, unlike Lucia and Jacinta, little Francisco never heard words during the apparitions, the boy was fully aware of what was said and had seen the fantastic light of God as it was shed through the Immaculate Heart of Mary to the earth. Like Jacinta, he had absolutely no fear of death. This was a boy, truly, like no other. “Francisco spoke very little,” wrote Lucia in a series of memoirs during the 1930s and 1940s. “He usually did everything he saw us doing, and rarely suggested anything himself. During his illness, he suffered with heroic patience, without ever letting the slightest moan or the least complaint escape his lips. One day, shortly before his death, I asked him: Are you suffering a lot, Francisco?’ ‘Yes, but I suffer it all for the love of Our Lord and Our Lady.
After the monumental 1917 apparitions, Francisco often wandered alone behind brush for hours on end, constantly praying the Rosary. “Our Lady told us that we would have much to suffer, but I don’t mind,” he said. “I’ll suffer all that she wishes! What I want is to go to Heaven!” What hurt Francisco the most, when influenza prevented him from attending church, was the inability to spend time with the “Hidden Jesus” in the Blessed Sacrament. It was well known that he spent many hours with his arms wrapped around the tabernacle of the local church.
The day before he passed, Francisco told Lucia, “Look! I am very ill; it won’t be long now before I go to Heaven.” He had requested the sacrament of Confession. “I am going to Confession so that I can receive Holy Communion, and then die,” said the child, asking Lucia and Jacinta to remember for him any sins he may have committed and forgotten. “Goodbye, Francisco!” said Lucia, knowing she would live for many years on earth serving God. “If you go to Heaven tonight, don’t forget me when you get there, do you hear me?” As the scene became moving, Lucia was nudged from the room by her aunt. “Goodbye then, Francisco!” she said to this boy who would always remain one of the very closest humans to her heart — unforgettable right to her own death more than eight decades later. “Till we meet in Heaven, goodbye!…” And so it ended.
St. Francisco, Pray for Us!
085 708 8407
