In the evening of the first day of his arrival grandmother began to behave in a very strange way. She gathered the women of her neighbourhood, got hold of an old drum and playing on it she began to sing, in spite of people telling her not to overstrain. For the first time the author noticed that she did not pray.
Next morning she was taken ill. Though the doctor announced that it was a mild fever, she told that her end was near. She did not waste her time talking to anyone. She lay peacefully in her bed praying and telling her beads. Even before they could say something her lips stopped moving and the rosary fell from her lifeless fingers. A peaceful paleness spread over her face. They knew that she was dead.
