Glimpses of the last hours of the life of the martyr abbot Gherasim Iscu

In February 1951 I arrived at Târgu-Ocna, a prison sanatorium for prisoners suffering from tuberculosis, who were brought here from prisons and various labour colonies, some in very serious condition.

Here I met some of my old friends from Aiud, Jilava and other prisons. I was happy to see them again, but saddened by their state of health, such as Valeriu Gafencu, Gicu Jimboiu, Gili Ioanid and others.

Here I really saw the Christian life being lived, the self-giving in caring for those confined to bed by illness. On the initiative of the prisoners’ doctors, and with the agreement of the official doctor (Dr. Margareta Danielescu), it was decided that the healthier prisoners could work in room 4, where the most seriously ill were.

Here, help was given to those who needed it more than others. When I arrived here, I felt it was my Christian duty to help the suffering. So, from the first week of my arrival, I was happy to be able to help the suffering brothers who could not even get out of bed. And now, at the request of some of my former suffering colleagues, I would like to tell you a few lines about how I used to keep vigil at the adoration of the Father Abbot of the Tismana Monastery: Iscu Gherasim.

At 7 p.m. the doors were locked and bolted. After closing, I went to each person’s bed and asked if they needed anything. Valeriu Gafencu told me: “Take care of Father Gherasim tonight. I think he’s leaving us. I approached him and asked: “Father, can I help you?” He nodded no. I stayed by his side. After a few hours he beckoned me to come closer. He could barely whisper to me, telling me what I knew from the prayers and psalms. I began to whisper the opening prayers, Psalm 142, then the Akathist of Our Saviour Jesus Christ, which I had learnt from the priest Ioja Sinesie. When the akathist was finished, we took a short break. I saw him open his eyes, look at me and whisper something. I began to tell him the psalms from the evening service. Towards the end of Psalm 142, I saw him move his hand, trying to make the sign of the Holy Cross. He opened his eyes wide and looked up through the bars of the window. Valeriu gave me the match and the candle, which I lit discreetly and placed in his hand. He dropped his eyelids and fell asleep in the Lord. Father Iscu Gherasim rests in the cemetery of Târgu-Ocna with those whose names are on the trophy erected and consecrated in memory of their pure souls, fighters against atheistic communism.

Their sacrifices won the day. I ask the good Lord to rest them with His holy Martyrs in His Kingdom. Amen.

(Costică Țoțea – From the Documents of the Resistance, Volume 5, AFDPR, Bucharest, 1992, pp. 284-285)