The relentless rain ravished the old village. No one dared to leave their warm homes. Except for one dark-hooded human being Zigzagging and hiding along paths and roads, After leaving a bundle on a Convent step And ringing quickly the nuns' bell. Low amongst the ebony clouds, thunder rumbled. Sister Clare immediately saw the bundle, She heard the child's moan in acute fear. She gathered the babe and rushed inside. In her hurry, she left the heavy door ajar. A lithe girl quickly entered behind the nun. Sister Clare took the babe into the cosy kitchen. Took off its wet wrappings and wiped the poor babe. Then with another dry towel covered the infant. She hurried to search for clothes and returned. She stopped at the doorway for there a young girl stood. “Who are you?” The girl dressed in a white nightgown Turned and smiled. “I am Gabrielle,” she said. The babe was fully dressed but rather quiet. “Dressed her up, and baptised her White Rose. Now it’s time to take her to the dimly lit chapel.” Sister Clare and many other nuns followed, wondering. Who is Gabrielle? Why did the baby make no noise? Gabrielle and her babe climbed the altar’s stairs slowly. “Jesus is kind and loves us all. Now White Rose is His.” A white aura of bright light surrounded the girl and babe. Harps plucked in the most dulcet way and then all was dark. Only the dead babe remained, lying in a basket on the altar. From far away a few bells tolled a happy melody for all to hear.