- Mother Maddalena wrote to one of her sisters on March 30, 1885. She and her siblings were all getting older, and several had died: When I go to bed in the evening, I take the little crucifix into mv hands and say: ‘Behold me, I am ready if you want me; I am at your mercy.’ Constance does the same. And this is not since we knew about Cornelio—some time before that they had heard of this brother’s death—but for a long time. It is better to be prepared. Who knows what may happen at this age? God be ever blessed.

The Poor Clares in Omaha received a letter, written on March 28, 1953, from an elderly lady, Claire Agnes McCluskey. She had been a young girl when Mother Maddalena and Mother Constance came to Omaha to establish the Poor Clare life in that city. Their first, temporary convent was next door to Claire Agnes’ family. She wrote: [During our illness] Reverend Mother came and said the Rosary and asked mother to allow her to baptize the baby, so she would die without baptism. Mother cried and said yes. My younger sister and I were in bed with what was then called ‘Congestion of the lung’ and whooping cough. Two doctors had given no hope of our recovery and I could dimly remember Mother Mary Magdalen and Sister Mary Francis, standing at the bedside and baptizing Annie and I. The next day we were recovering. The baby died and the nuns dressed her and placed a half-blown rose bud on each little foot. The nuns were like angels.

- Mother Maddalena’s sister, Constance, delighted in the pomp and display of the old rite for receiving the Poor Clare habit. She was invested on May 1, 1864: Her sister Matilda wrote to Maddalena: This morning I recalled to mind the reception of our most dear Constance. I imagined that I was in the year 1864, in the church of San Lorenzo, in Panisperna. What a vision! I saw once more the dear Constance in her bridal robes. Really, it was beautiful! The trials, the labors, the tribulations, and the penance of the years that have since then elapsed had not crushed that budding beauty of twenty-four summers - tall, agile, with golden locks which glistened in the sunlight, adorned with a white veil and a precious diadem. A belt, set with priceless stones, encircled the dress with the long trail. At her side was our cousin, blond, graceful, and vested as a little angel, holding up the long dress; at the other side was our guardian, Cardinal Borromeo (who was then major-domo to Pius IX) robed in pontificals. She held the cope as she passed up the aisle of the church. At the gate of the cloister, she was, according to a special rite, handed over to the Abbess, who with all the Sisters, bearing lighted candles, accompanied her in procession into the interior of the convent chapel, where she put off the worldly garments — ‘the old man’—and vested herself in the coarse woolen garments, girded herself with the hard girdle, and put on a crown of thorns as the elect spouse of Jesus.

The wealthy Fendrich family in Evansville often asked Mother Maddalena’s prayers. Mrs. Fendrich had fallen ill, and there were symptoms of peritonitis, which was often fatal in those days. Her daughter Laura wrote: I called for my brother and requested that he go to the monastery and see Mother Maddalena. He told her what the doctor had said about his mother’s condition. Mother Maddalena said to him: ‘Just wait here a minute.’ My brother supposed that she went to the chapel. When she returned, Mother Maddalena said: ‘Have no fear; your mother will recover.’ When my brother and I compared notes, we found that mother began to recover just about the time at which Mother Maddalena had said ‘your mother will live.’ Mrs. Fendrich on May 2, 1905, in gratitude for her remarkable recovery, promised Mother Maddalena that she would complete the monastery building according to plans. The Servant of God was deeply grateful to God and to her benefactress. Thanks be to God! she exclaimed. Now my poor children will have a home.

One of the early companions of Mother Maddalena, Sister Francis Moran – later Abbess in New Orleans – remembered Mother Maddalena’s eucharistic devotion: Before the Blessed Sacrament, which was her greatest consolation, she seemed like a Seraph.