Finally, the day of my departure was settled. The evening before, I went to bid farewell to all the familiar places so dear to us. My heart was torn with loneliness and longing, for I was sure I would never set foot on the Cabeco, the Rock, Valinhos, or in the parish church where Our dear Lord had begun His work of mercy, and the cemetery, where rested the mortal remains of my beloved Father and of Francisco, whom I could still never forget. I said goodbye to our well, already illumined by the pale rays of the moon, and to the old threshing floor where I had so often spent long hours contemplating the beauty of the starlit heavens, and the wonders of sunrise and sunset which so enraptured me. I loved to watch the rays of the sun reflected in the dew drops, so that the mountains seemed covered with pearls in the morning sunshine; and in the evening, after a snowfall, to see the snowflakes sparkling on the pine trees was like a foretaste of the beauties of paradise.
Without saying farewell to anyone, I left the next day at two o’clock in the morning, accompanied by my mother and a poor laborer called Manuel Correira who was going to Leiria. I carried my secret with me, inviolate. We went by the way of the Cova da Iria, so I could bid it my last farewell. There for the last time I prayed my Rosary. As long as this place was still in sight, I kept turning round to say my last good bye. We arrived at Leiria at nine o’clock in the morning. There I met Dona Filomena Miranda, whom Your Excellency had charged to accompany me. This lady was later to be my godmother at Confirmation. The train left at two o’clock in the afternoon, and there I was at the station, giving my poor mother a last embrace, leaving her overwhelmed with sorrow and shedding abundant tears. The train moved out, and with it went my poor heart plunged in an ocean of loneliness and filled with memories that I could never forget.