Very Reverend Fr. Prov., Fr. Prior; Rev.me, Confreres, Brother, Sisters, Brother-in-law, Children, Friends,
Once again, greetings from cell 577. Now I am here already over six weeks. But I hold out quite well. My health is all right. February 21, I had a little warning, a bit of fever and pains that made me fear that the kidney inflammation of December, 1939, would reappear. Also I asked for the doctor. But while I was afraid that it would turn worse, when the doctor arrived the next day, it had improved a lot so that the doctor saw no necessity for doing anything. For a couple of days some afterpains, less appetite, and it was over again. At the moment I am very well. Psychically I am not troubled in the least. I need neither to cry nor to sigh, sometimes I even sing a tune in my own way, not too loudly of course. I cannot manage the nights here. I cannot sleep from 8 till 7. So I am much awake at night, more than the nights exceed their normal length (sic).
I shall tell you my timetable, but you must not take it too punctually. That does not exist here. I rise at about 7 o'clock. Bell is rung, light is switched on. A short morning prayer. I strip my bed, fold blankets and sheets, receive water. Then I kneel down and say the prayers of Holy Mass, spiritual communion. Then the coffee is about to arrive, a tin half litre cup. I soak the bread in it. Angelus. Breakfast. After that, a few times weekly, cleaning up the cell. Sometimes we are given a newspaper in the morning, which I read after breakfast. Then wash and dress. Until then I live in pajamas, quite practical. Then it is about half past eight, nine. I say Matins, Lauds and Prime, and after that half an hour of meditation. They are different hours from the convent, but one has to adapt oneself. From ten to half past eleven I read, and when I have paper I also write. I am working on the Life of St. Teresa, for Spectrum. I have finished the first draft of six of the twelve chapters. After half past eleven I say the little hours. Then lunch. Angelus. Adoration in the spirit. I sing an <Adoro Te>. Then a walk in my room, three meters forward three meters back, and then the same again. Sometimes I have to laugh about it. At two o'clock Vespers and Compline. Then read or write. At four o'clock half an hour of meditation. At about 5 o'clock evening bread with milk. Angelus. Adoration. From six to half past seven read or write. 7.30 evening prayer. Rosary. At night, the light is not switched on any more. The timetable is sometimes interrupted by exercises on command, each day, except on Sundays, sport: we are about 70 from the same corridor in a small court, to walk around, to trot, to throw out arms and legs, it is fun. Ten minutes, a quarter of an hour. On our way out we take our dustbin with us and take it back, emptied, on our way back. Usually twice weekly we may shave and razors are distributed, sometimes after 2 days, sometimes after 4, and once even after 8 days. I started looking patriarchal. Sometimes there is an order to scrub the woodwork or to swab the cell, etc. I just take part in everything. Twice I have been taken to a bathing cell for a shower.
The day before yesterday I received from the laundry two sacks of underwear, and I gave along the soiled linen. Splendid. There was only one pair of socks, that is a bit little. I was very happy to receive Fr. Prior's letter of February 21, in reply to mine of 12. I received the letter on February 26. That was a joy. Many thanks for letter; Holy Mass and prayers, and for carrying out all the instructions. It is the first and until now the only one I received. It will be best if Fr. Prior writes for all, as the Provincial does for Amandus. Much news in few words. He would also be the indicated person to apply for a visit. How is the family doing? Gatsche, best wishes on March 13. How are Hubert, Cyprian, the Pastor, P. Thomas, Ewald? How are my colleagues? Did Vos de Wael get the doctorate? Has the Rochus home been furnished already?
Until now I haven't received any parcel. Maybe I'm not allowed to. I have started again at Septuagesima. Remember me, you all, I will remember you, reciprocally.
In Christ your p. Titus Brandsma, O. Carm.
