“How can I not weep with joy?”

I met Mr. Traian Trifan and Marian Traian in 1942 in Aiud, where I had been sent to serve a three-year sentence. (…)

One day, all the prisoners were assembled in the prison yard. The warden, Captain Aurel Munteanu, read aloud a decree of rehabilitation, conditional upon our deployment to the anti-Soviet front, where we would be “rehabilitated” only through acts of bravery.

Immediately after reading the decree, without further explanation, he addressed the prisoners:

• Anyone who does not wish to go to the front should step forward!

Three prisoners emerged: Trifan, the lawyer Marian, and an officer whose name I have forgotten.

Mr. Trifan, taking a piece of paper, carefully explained why he could not comply with the decree. Essentially, the legionaries had committed no wrongdoing against their country or nation, and therefore required no forced “rehabilitation.” They were willing to fight on the anti-Soviet front, but as free citizens, without the stigma of imprisonment and subject only to the laws of the land. Turning to us, who remained in our seats—momentarily smiling at the glimpse of freedom—we heard him say with quiet authority:

• And soon, but too late, they will understand they were wrong.

The subsequent events confirmed his words: most, if not all, perished as enslaved men, sent to their deaths, yet for a fleeting moment, they glimpsed freedom. Personally, I was convinced by Dr. Trifan’s prophetic insight, and with God’s mercy, I willingly returned to Aiud to serve my sentence—a gesture criticized by some, but appreciated by Dr. Trifan and his close friends.

Back in Aiud, I was transferred with Mr. Trifan and Mr. Marian to Brasov prison, both for disciplinary and health reasons. There, thanks to their prestige—which they still held in Brasov society—I was permitted to celebrate Holy Mass in the prison chapel throughout the August holidays.

During Lent, my companions, with whom I shared the same room day and night, expressed their desire to go to confession and receive Holy Communion. I arranged the day and administered the Sacrament of Confession, and during Holy Mass, gave them both Communion.

As I recited the prayer of confession to Mr. Trifan—“I believe, Lord, and I confess that You are truly Christ…”—I noticed tears streaming down his cheeks as he approached the chalice. I shuddered. Later, in a quiet moment, I asked him:

• Mr. Trifan, I hope I do not disturb you, but could you tell me why you wept during Holy Communion? As a priest, I have seen tears during confession, but rarely during Communion.

• How could I not weep for joy, Father? I have not received Communion in nearly three years. How can I refrain from tears when I realize how much God loves me, giving me His very food and drink?

The meditative spirit he carried was remarkable. Each evening, after lights out, the three of us would converse for just fifteen minutes, after which he would begin his daily meditation. We would remain silent, reflecting according to our strength on the loftiest ideals we aspired to achieve. So much was contemplated in a single month, until we returned to Aiud, chained once again. (…)

I did not see Mr. Trifan again until 1985, when I paid him a visit. Full of the joy of the Resurrection, he asked me:

• Father, after the word death, what do you put: a full stop or a comma?

I replied, in the manner he always cherished:

• A comma!

They passed through death into True Life—the “two Titans,” as the younger ones called them: Trifan and Marian. They pray for us, and we for them, as is the duty of all who love them.

They are missed and cherished like icons in the hearts of all who witnessed their lives and shared their words: Bădia Anghel Papacioc and the children of that time, Virgil Maxim, Marin Naidim, Iulian Bălan, Nicu Mazăre, Pascu Constantin, Sandu Ștefănescu, and countless others, both known and unknown. Alongside Ion Ianolide and Valeriu Gafencu, they share in eternity the ineffable gifts of Christ the Bridegroom.

(Testimony of Father Vasile Serghie – I confess…) Robul 1036, edited by Virgil Maxim, ed. Scara, 1998, pp. 111–114)