“I believe that suffering in prison made Father Brânzaș so good”

Sometimes I look back with nostalgia and joy in my heart on my childhood years, which were marked by so many events, but the most important of all was that I had the opportunity to learn, along with other children, what religion is. Those wonderful hours of soul reunion we spent in church were a gift from God to us.

Of course, this was unwanted by those who didn’t want us to know what religion was, by those who didn’t want us to know the word God and what it meant. The atheists who ruled the country did not want us to understand and know why we are born, live and die on this earth.

However, despite all the obstacles and risks, we, the children of Suceagu, learned what religion is from our father Liviu Brânzaș, who wanted so much for every child to know the truths of faith and to live according to God’s commandments.

So, on holidays, at Father’s call, we would gather in the church and spend 4-5 hours there. If the weather was fine, we would sit outside on the graves and in the sunlight we would learn the great truths of the Christian religion. When the weather was bad, we would meet inside the church and sit in the pews with Father in our midst. […]

When we were up in the tower and it was time for the parable, Father would ring the bells. He told us that his grandfather had been a bell ringer and that he had inherited his love for the church and the bells.

Father often told us, “The most beautiful music in the world is the ringing of bells”. After he told us this, it seemed to us that it was. He also told us that the most beautiful picture is the image of a child kneeling with his hands folded in prayer. […]

…from a small box he took out a very small object and showed it to us. We all came closer to see what it was, but at first we didn’t understand what it was. Then Father explained. It was a medallion made from a piece of bone with the face of the Saviour and the crown of thorns on his forehead. On the back of the medallion was a mountain with a cross on it. It looked like the cross of Calvary. Under the mountain with the cross was written: Aiud. We realised that the medallion was a souvenir from prison. [The medallion revealed to us the mystery of his life. Looking at the medallion, we understood why Father Liviu Brânzaș was not afraid to make religion with us. Looking at his serene face, you couldn’t believe that this man had spent all his youth in prison. I think it was the suffering in prison that made Father so good. […]

That’s what this man and priest was for us: a true father. And we, in turn, tried to be true sons for him in spirit. Now, when I think back to that happy time of my childhood, I am filled with a silent joy. How fortunate we were to have such an educator in the springtime of our lives! He taught us by example that we must face all dangers in order to do our duty. I will never forget his kindness and selflessness and all he did for the innocent souls of children.

And I will always remember that he enlightened our childhood with the light of Christ.

(Corina-Octavia Ciotlăuș – Gazeta de Vest magazine, September-October 1995)