THE BEGINNING OF EVERY STORY · May 2020 2 Don Bosco’s Madonna May 2020 3 Don Bosco’s Madonna...

2 3May 2020 Don Bosco’s Madonna Don Bosco’s MadonnaMay 2020

Fr. Ian Doulton sdb

From The Editor's Desk:Thoughts..................................3

The Beginning of Every Story- Don Giampaolo Dianin...........4

A Success Handbook for Couples - Maria Chiara Bregolin................6

Youth on the Move: The Purest Kind of Love - Anastasia Dias.........8

Great Bible Heroes: Power Meets True Power - Ian Pinto, sdb.....10

Witnesses In And For Our Times:St. Bede the Venerable (May 27) 13

Lectio Divina: The Lord is My Shepherd - Don Carlo Broccardo...................16

Quietspaces: Ode to Joy- Pope Francis...........................18

Coming Home Tonight- Pierluigi Menato...................20

The Fioretti of Don Bosco - 16- Michele Molineris....................24

Salesian Saints: Bronislao Marikewicz - Pierluigi Cameroni.................27

Reflecting on Mary: Mary the Door of Faith - Maria Ko........29

NewsBits.....................................31In a Cheerful Mood......................32The Devotion of

the Three Hail Marys.............33Loving Children to their

Loving Mother........................33They Are Grateful to

Our Lady & Don Bosco..........35

CONTENTSCONTENTSCONTENTSCONTENTSCONTENTS

DON BOSCO'S MADONNA

Mumbai MAY 2020 vol.22 No. 1THOUGHTS

“Watch your thoughts, they become words;Watch your words, they become actions;Watch your actions, they become habits;Watch your habits, they become character;Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.”

- Frank Outlaw

We cannot stop thoughts that come into our heads but we don’t have toserve them tea. –Rumi

We do become our thoughts. We tend to forget that we are clay al-ways being shaped and formed by unseen forces. Thoughts seem

insignificant but they make and unmake worlds. Watchfulness is es-sential for our lives. We guard ourselves against outside forces withgreat care but forget about forces within us. Thoughts can unravel re-lationships and dissemble a work place.

The Good News is that we can choose to watch over our thoughts.As Rumi says we can’t prevent them but don’t have to invite them inand give them a place at the table. We can let them go and choose toentertain thoughts that build relationships. Just something I’ve beenthinking about.

Because thoughts become words and so often we have to regret thewords we have blurted out inadvertently. Such pitfalls attend gossip.How tempting it is to make a snarky comment about someone not inthe room. Once a clever barb is uttered, it lodges there, barnacle-like,on people’s consciousness. Once there, it’s difficult to remove.

Most often such thoughts-turned-words are couched in humour andoften that humour crosses the line. Most of us have an internal gaugethat tells us when a joke or a casual comment moves from playful tohurtful. Conscience is usually loud and clear on this point. But if youfeel that your internal gauge needs some fine-tuning or even an over-haul, you might ask yourself the following questions, slightly adaptedfrom the writings of the popular spiritual leader and New Age IconKrishnamurti (1895-1986). They are the three doors that charitablespeech must pass through.

The gatekeeper at the first door asks, “Is it true?” The secondgatekeeper asks, “Is it helpful?” The third gatekeeper asks, “Is it kind?”

It is good to ask ourselves what is the general tenor of our conversa-tion? Does it often concern others, their defects, shortcomings or sim-ply their general deportment? How often do we casually and eventhoughtlessly demean them?

Life is relationship and communication and words play such animportant role in the great scheme of things. I think that was whywhen God decided to become man they said: The Word became flesh.’

We pray, O Lord,that we

who rejoice

in commemoratingthe Blessed Virgin Mary,

may

by imitating herserve worthily

the mystery of

our redemption.

(From the Mass of the Common

of the Blessed Virgin Mary)


THE BEGINNING OF EVERY STORY...THE BEGINNING OF EVERY STORY...THE BEGINNING OF EVERY STORY...THE BEGINNING OF EVERY STORY...THE BEGINNING OF EVERY STORY...by Don Giampaolo Dianin

REFLECTIONS ON AMORIS LAETITIAREFLECTIONS ON AMORIS LAETITIAREFLECTIONS ON AMORIS LAETITIAREFLECTIONS ON AMORIS LAETITIAREFLECTIONS ON AMORIS LAETITIA

I am trying to describe one ofthe many encounters that ush-ers in a love story. “Everythingstarted with a look. I rememberthe day I saw you for the firsttime: among so many faces yoursstruck me and like a magnet Iwas attracted to you; your face,your smile, your hair, your body.And then your way of talking andmingling with others. From thatday I always looked for you. Thatlook initiated every encounterand nourished our being to-gether. And when, beyond thelook I began to know your heart,I realized that you were a beau-tiful person, and I was filled withjoy. Perhaps I had found the right

Couples are often asked how they felt when they met:there is always so much tenderness in their storyand also much awkwardness, because they reveal

unthinkable ways and places

person to share my life with.”It may seem trivial, simplistic

like a romance novel, but it is alsotrue that every story at the begin-ning contains something beauti-ful, unique, poetic and strange.Couples are often asked howthey felt when they met: there isalways so much tenderness intheir story and also much awk-wardness, because they revealunthinkable mannerisms andspaces.

Love stories don’t start by ex-changing resumes or even froma collection of data. They startfrom a meeting of looks thatcause wonder and joy becausethey reveal the beauty of the

other what the face seems to in-dicate, even if still in an unclearmanner, but still able to instillintrigue and fascinate.

Pope Francis describes conju-gal love not only as friendshipthat grows towards the mutualgift that bears the name of con-jugal charity; conjugal love isnourished by the beauty of theother who at first gives pleasure,but in time, promises joy whengoing beyond what appears.Numbers 126-130 of AmorisLaetitia are dedicated precisely tothe joy and beauty of love.

The Pope distinguishes plea-sure from joy. Pleasure can be anappetizing slice of cake, joy is theresult of a long and arduous dietthat nourishes but makes you feelgood; pleasure can be gazing ata beautiful mountain peak, joy isto have ascended it, strugglingand conquering it slowly; plea-sure can be a sexual act, joy is liv-ing it with the person you loveand with whom you are sharingyour life.

The Pope writes: “When thesearch for pleasure becomes ob-sessive, it holds us in thrall andkeeps us from experiencing othersatisfactions. Joy, on the otherhand, increases our pleasure andhelps us find fulfilment in anynumber of things, even at thosetimes of life when physical plea-sure has ebbed” (AL 126).

The joy of love contains plea-sure, but surpasses it making itgenuine, lasting and solid. Thusjoy can be lived even in the midstof the trials and toils that formpart of the daily grind of marriedlife. Pleasure is a restless andlively sea while joy is the wealththat lies beneath the surfaceteeming with life.

How can we not think of anelderly couple who have so manyyears of life behind them; whohave gone through joys and tri-als; seen their children grow upand now they see their children’schildren! Perhaps the pleasure isless exuberant, but there is joy intheir lives, a joy achieved butalso a joy given by God to whomthey have entrusted themselvesand on whom their life isfounded.

True joy is also the daughter ofcontemplation of the beloved. Itis the fruit of daily life to recog-nize that you are more than yourlimitations. Those beautifulthings that you give me aresweeter than the labours thatexist. “The love of friendship iscalled “charity” when it per-ceives and esteems the “greatworth” of another person.Beauty – that “great worth”which is other than physical orpsychological appeal – enables usto appreciate the sacredness of aperson, without feeling the needto possess it (AL 127).

Francis adds that many hurtsand many problems result whenwe stop looking at one another:“My husband does not look atme; he acts as if I am invisible. Inmy home nobody cares aboutme. My wife no longer looks atme, she only has eyes for our chil-dren” (AL 128) Such statementsare often heard and blurted outwhen a relationship has been ex-tinguished because of boredomand where there is no effort re-kindling it. The evidence is therefor all to see. You can get out ofit stronger than before, or youcan come out wounded and dis-appointed because you have notcommunicated. Everyone has tri-


als, but you can come out of itstronger than before or you cancome out of it hurt and disap-pointed because you have notmade the effort to rekindle theflame.

There is also a beauty that cansave marriages. It is the beauty

of love that does not stop look-ing at the other seeking out herbeauty. Francis recalling the film“Babette’s Feast” writes: “Themost intense joys in life arisewhen we are able to elicit joy inothers, as a foretaste of heaven”(AL 129).q

In my communication studiesI learned that it is often neces-sary to resort to effective slogansand headings to convince read-ers to go on reading or to proceedwith a purchase.

So, if you really expected a suc-cess handbook with a dozenpoints for couples I thank you forreading thus far and I apologizebecause below you will find, inreality, something else.

Eleanor Roosevelt, in one of herspeeches argued that “happiness(or success) is not a goal but aside effect.” For the couple thismeans that the end cannot be thepursuit of one’s own fulfilmentand one’s own happiness, but itshould naturally stem from seek-ing first of all the good of theother.

Let’s step back. Let’s go back tothe moment we fell in love andwe understood (because at a cer-tain point it becomes self-evi-dent) that the one who crossedour path was the right person:the one who knew how to makeyou laugh, who was able tobrighten our life and who maybehelped us see the bright side ofeverything. That was the one Iwas attracted to, at least for me.I was attracted by his optimism,his confidence in life and in thefuture; the fact that he was

A SUCCESS HANDBOOK FOR COUPLESA SUCCESS HANDBOOK FOR COUPLESA SUCCESS HANDBOOK FOR COUPLESA SUCCESS HANDBOOK FOR COUPLESA SUCCESS HANDBOOK FOR COUPLES

happy to face the vicissitudes oflife, this made me fall in love withmy husband. He brought allthese gifts into my life and hewanted to share them with mefor free.

Husband and wife, thoughthey possess rather different per-sonalities, together they give lifeto a new identity as a couple thatgoes beyond the sum of theircharacteristics, nature and tal-ents.

This couple identity finds itsdriving force in pleasure and its

fuel is joy. These two principlesregulate our choices and give toour consciences certain strengthto address some very importantissues.

Pleasure brings us closer toeach other: it is the flame that isthe driving force of the relation-ship between two lovers andthose who know how to maintainand revive it, see that it turns intojoy.

Joy is a garment that a coupledons everyday: a good attitude,the first thought in the morningand a deep sense of gratitude be-fore falling asleep at night.

“Few human joys are as deepand thrilling as those experi-enced by two people who loveeach other and have achievedsomething as a result of a great,shared effort” (AL 130). PopeFrancis has a long view: hiswords fill our hearts with confi-dence when he tells us that noth-

Maria Chiara Bregolin Tezzon

ing is impossible if you reallywant it together God, who is thesupreme Pleasure and supremeJoy wants us to have it like hedoes.

The joy of which he speaks is‘collateral’ of our love, and thewonder we experience in thepresence of our spouse, becausedespite the passing years andeverything inside and outsidechanging, the mystery of theother remains unchanged in oureyes and we desire to know moreof the other.

“Love opens the eyes and al-lows us to see beyond everythingwhat a human being is worth”(AL 129).

“The most intense joys in lifearise when we are able to elicitjoy in others, as a foretaste ofheaven” (AL 129).

We are made for love and tolove is to procure “a foretaste ofheaven”.q

A holy and humble shoemaker used to prayin the morning, at midday and in the evening.He didn’t feel able or confident enough tomake up his own prayers to the Lord so healways used a well worn prayer book. On ajourney one day he felt very bad because hehad forgotten his prayer book and it was timefor prayer. And so he knelt, turned to the Lordand said “Please forgive me Lord because Ineed to pray and I don’t know how. But youare my God who loves me and I am going torecite the alphabet, from a to z, a number oftimes. You are wise and good and you can put the letters togetherand in that way you will be able to know my prayer and what Iwant to say.” The story goes that on that day the Lord called hisangels together in Heaven and told them how moved he was by theprayer of the shoemaker. It was the most beautiful prayer he hadheard in a longtime - a humble, trusting, sincere and loving prayer-the kind of prayer which works miracles.

THE SHOEMAKER’S PRAYERTHE SHOEMAKER’S PRAYERTHE SHOEMAKER’S PRAYERTHE SHOEMAKER’S PRAYERTHE SHOEMAKER’S PRAYER

Amigos de Fray Martin, Pa!encia:Translated from the Spanish-abbreviated


THE PUREST KIND OF LOVETHE PUREST KIND OF LOVETHE PUREST KIND OF LOVETHE PUREST KIND OF LOVETHE PUREST KIND OF LOVEby Anastasia Dias

It was another regular day atuniversity. My mother hadcalled me for the 3rd time sincemorning, reminding me that Ihad to book my tickets to comehome for the holidays. I was an-noyed at her and lost my temper.

Adrienne Woods, a friend ofmine, sat nearby and overheardme yell at my mother. After Ihung up, she looked me in the eyeand said, “You really shouldn’ttake your mum for granted. Shecares about you.” I was cynicaland said, ‘Of course’.

Adrienne began talking and Isincerely hoped she would stopsoon; remembering at that mo-ment how she loved to talk. Shesaid, “I was born in a family ofthree children, which includedme. Dad was in the Navy andmum worked as a teacher. Dadcame home once in almost ninemonths. Mum practically raised

the three of us, alone.“Like most mothers, mum

woke up at 5 every morning. Shecooked breakfast and lunch forus; and then got us dressed anddrove to school. In the evening,she spent time with us, helped uswith our homework, prepareddinner, fed us and put us to bed.For us, it was what we expectedof her. It was her job, her duty asour mother. This was mymother’s routine till the three ofus grew up and left for college;each to a new, different city.

“I was 18 and thrilled to go tocollege in New York. It was asexciting as I had expected. I wenthome only for the holidays.Home was as dull and as boringas it could be.

“Sometimes, when my siblingsleft early, it was just mum and Iand I hated those days. Mum, youknow, was Mum. She had beenthe same for the past 20 yearsthat I’d known her. She’d had thesame old stories to tell. It was somonotonous that I longed to goback to New York.

“One day, in class, I receivedan unexpected call. It was myDad. I hadn’t seen him or spokento him for months. He soundedpensive, ‘Adrienne, you must

come home. Mum has been verysick.’

“Without any further delay, Itook the next flight home. WhenI reached the hospital, I saw mymother, with tubes all aroundher, sleeping, unaware that herfull family was beside her.Mother looked tiny and frail, herhair had turned grey. She was notthe woman I had known, thewoman who had raised me andmy siblings. This was someoneelse and she was dying, slowly.

“When I stood at her bedside, Ifelt her pulse. She was breathingbut hadn’t opened her eyes. Ilonged for her to turn over andhug me, one last time; to call meby my name and remind me thatI had homework for the next day.I longed for one last kiss wishingme a good night.

“But all I saw was a woman,struggling between life and deathwith needles inserted in herarms. I thought of all that mymother had meant to me; and thethings I felt for her, the things Ishould’ve told her, but never did.I remembered the questions Ihad in mind, they remained un-

answered.“Mummy lay before my eyes,

listless, lifeless. This time, shedidn’t have stories to tell, shewas taking them with her, in herheart, along with memories of usall.

“I could hear her voice saying,‘Adrienne, you should comehome more often. The house feelsvery empty. I miss you all somuch.’ In her voice I had sensedloneliness and longing. Nonethe-less, I hadn’t stopped to think orto care.

“I sensed her pulse, it hadstopped. Mummy was gone andI lay my head on her heart andwept. The memories came flood-ing back. I wished for a few moremoments to spend with her.”

When Adrienne finished, I wassobbing. I had never thought ofit in that way. I had been just likeAdrienne Woods, if not worse,taking my mother for granted.That day, I understood the valueof having a mother. I found thata mother’s love was of the pur-est kind. And the gift of a motherwas the most precious of all thegifts in the world.q

Hearing God

The young man had lost his job and didn’t know which way to turn. So hewent to see the old preacher. Pacing about the preacher’s study, the youngman ranted about his problem. Finally he clenched his fist and shouted, “I’vebegged God to say something to help me. Tell me, Preacher, why doesn’t Godanswer?” The old preacher, who sat across the room, spoke something in reply- something so hushed it was indistinguishable. The young man stepped acrossthe room. “What did you say?” he asked. The preacher repeated himself, butagain in a tone as soft as a whisper. So the young man moved closer until hewas leaning on the preacher’s chair. “Sorry,” he said. “I still didn’t hear you.”With their heads bent together, the old preacher spoke once more. “God some-times whispers,” he said, “so we will move closer to hear Him.” This time theyoung man heard and he understood. We all want God’s voice to thunderthrough the air with the answer to our problem. But God’s is the still, smallvoice...the gentle whisper. Perhaps there’s a reason. Nothing draws humanfocus quite like a whisper. God’s whisper means I must stop my ranting andmove close to Him, until my head is bent together with His. And then, as Ilisten, I will find my answer. Better still, I find myself closer to God. q


GREAT BIBLE HEROES

Centurions were officers ofsome authority in the Romanarmy. A Centurion ideally at leasthad a 100 men under his com-mand. That made him quite pow-erful. However, within the vasterRoman Army, a centurion wasonly the smallest part! The Romanarmy was made up of legions.Each legion had about 6000 men.Therefore, there were 60 centuri-ons in a legion with their smallertroops or centuria as they werecalled. Centurions, were in fact,the lowest level of authority of thearmy but were treated very well.So, they enjoyed a higher pay anda greater share of the spoils ofwar. The Romans knew that if theywanted to maintain a good andstrong army, they would have tocare for the least. Along with re-spect and status, centurions en-joyed quite a bit of power. For allpractical purposes, they were re-sponsible for the men under theircommand. That means, they notonly ordered them around duringwars but saw to their day-to-dayactivities and so on.

The Will to PowerPower is a fascinating

reality. We see it presentall around us: in thewaves of the sea, theforce of the wind, thebite of a dog and evenwhen carrying our shop-ping bags! Power, at itsmost basic level, is whatallows things to moveand perform actions. All

POWER MEETS TRUE POWERThe Centurion and Jesus

Ian Pinto, sdb

of us possess power in varying de-grees and all of us also desirepower, again of varying degrees.Let’s go back to Genesis and seeour first taste of power.

When God created Man andplaced him in the Garden of Eden,He tasked him with tilling it andcaring for it (Gen 2:15). Thus, Godhanded Man power over theearth. With this power, Man wasexpected to nurture the earth andmake it yield good things. A littlelater, “God formed from the earthall the beasts of the field and allthe birds of the air and broughtthem to Man to see what he wouldcall them; and whatever Mancalled every living creature, thatwas its name” (Gen 2:19). Here,God gave Man power over thebeasts of the earth and birds of thesky. This power was not to exploitthem but firstly, to show Man’ssuperiority and importance overthese creatures and secondly, tolearn to live in harmony withthem.

But was Man satisfied withthis power? No! He wanted to belike god (Gen 3:5) and enjoy thepower of God. How did thatwork out for him? It led to hisbanishment from the Gardenand opened the doors for suffer-ing and death (Gen 3:16-19). Thisdynamic goes on till the presentday. Each of us are victims of it.We are all blessed with certainpowers, and yet, we long formore power. This could be in theform of wealth, luxuries, status,possessions, stock, bank bal-ances, relationships, promotionsetc. We find ourselves yearningfor more power. While wieldingpower is a good thing, hunger-ing for it, is not, as Adam andEve learnt the hard way.

Surrendering to a Higher PowerIf anyone knew something

about power, it was a Romancenturion. As I mentioned ear-lier, power can come in variousforms but one of its highest andmost vulnerable forms is powerover other people. It is one thingto exercise power over thingsbut it is quite another thing to ex-ercise power over human be-ings. A person in power is in fact,in control of his/her subordi-nates will to power, and thatmakes all the difference. Thus, aperson of authority can encour-age or discourage a persons ex-ercise of power just by com-manding it. That is why I re-ferred to this form of power asbeing ‘vulnerable’; it has the po-tency to make or break people.

The centurion knew very wellwhat power meant and thus herequests Jesus only to say theword and heal his servant (Mt

8:8). Notice how he explains toJesus the kind of power he hadover people (Mt 8:9). However,he realizes that his power waslimited. Even though he couldget a lot of things done just bycommanding them, there weremany other things that hecouldn’t do. He was aware of hispower as well as of its limitation.He sensed that Jesus possessed avery different kind of power,unlike the power he possessed.Despite being a respected man,he humbled himself and askedfor Jesus’ help. In the act of ask-ing for help, he submitted hispower into the hands of Jesusand surrendered to the higherpower that was Jesus, himself.

The centurion’s encounter withJesus is one of the strongest ex-amples of faith we have recordedin the Gospels. What’s even morefascinating is that it was the faithof a foreigner. The centurionteaches us some powerful lessons.Power is a major part of life. Weall come into and move out of itat different moments in life. Thefirst important lesson is not to getattached to it. The minute you do,you have begun to set fire to your-self. The second lesson is that nomatter how much or how littlepower you enjoy at the moment,there are things that are beyondit. There is a higher power. Thefoolish thing to do is to try andgrasp it like Adam and Eve. Thewise thing is to submit to it like thecenturion. The final lesson is tohave faith in the power of God. It’snot enough to submit to a higherpower. One can submit out ofweakness or in defeat. There is novirtue in that. Submitting in faithis what allows miracles to hap-pen. q


PROFILE

S

ST. BEDE THE VENERABLE (+ 735)

DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH

May 27

Venerable Bede, called by theancients Bedan (who is not tobe confounded with a monk ofLandisfarne of the same name butolder) was born in 673, asMabillion demonstrates from hisown writings, in a village whichsoon after his birth became partof the estate of the new neigh-bouring monastery of Jarrow, butwas gained upon by the sea beforethe time of Simeon of Durham.Such a harmony subsisted be-tween the two houses that theywere often governed by the sameabbot and called the same mon-astery of Ss. Peter and Paul’ St.Bennet was a man of extraordi-nary learning and piety and en-riched these monasteries with alarge and curious library which hehad collected at Rome and in otherforeign parts. To his care Bede wascommitted at seven years of agebut was afterwards removed toJarrow, where he pursued hisstudies under the direction of theabbot Ceolfrid, who had been St.Bennet’s fellow-traveller.

His great piety and endow-ments supplying the defect of age,by the order of his abbot Ceolfrid,

he was ordained deacon in 691, atnineteen years of age, by St. Johnof Beverley, who was at that timeBishop of Hexham, in which dio-cese Jarrow was situated, therebeing then no episcopal see inDurham. From this time he con-tinued his studies, till, at thirtyyears of age, in 702 he was or-dained priest by the same St. Johnwho was made bishop of Hexhamin 685, and bishop of York in 704.In king Alfred’s version, Bede isstyled Mass-Priest, because it washis employment to sing everydaythe conventual mass, he tells usthat the holy abbot and founder,St. Bennet Bishop, like the rest ofthe brethren, used to winnow the

corn and thrash it, to give milk tothe lambs and calves, and to workin the bake-house, garden andkitchen. Bede must have some-times had a share in such employ-ment, and he was always cheer-ful, obedient, and indefatigable.But his studies and writings, withassiduous meditation and prayer,must have chiefly employed him.He often copied books. He wroteseveral other works after this. Allthe sciences and every branch ofliterature were handled by him:natural philosophy, the philo-sophical principles of Aristotle,astronomy, arithmetic, the calen-dar, grammar, ecclesiastical his-tory, and the lives of the saints,though works of piety made upthe bulk of his writings. An hon-est candour and love of truth areso visibly the characteristics of hishistorical works that if some aus-tere critics have suspected himsometimes of credulity, no manever called in question his sincer-ity. If on the scriptures he oftenabridged or reduced to a methodi-cal order the comments of St. Aus-tin, St. Ambrose, St. Jerome, St.Basil and other fathers, this he did,not out of sloth or for want of ge-nius (as some later writers havedone), but that he might stickcloser to tradition in interpretingthe sacred oracles; and in what hefound not done by other eminentfathers, he still followed theirrules lest he should in the leasttittle, deviate from tradition.

What we most admire in Bedeis the piety with which he pur-sued and sanctified his studies,and the use of which he made ofthem. What he says of St. Chadwas a transcript of his own life,that he studied the holy scripturesso as to meditate assiduously on

the mysteries of faith and the max-ims and rules of piety, treasuringup in his heart the most perfectsentiments of divine love, humil-ity, and all virtues, and diligentlycopying them in his whole con-duct. Hence his life was a modelof devotion, obedience, humility,simplicity, charity and penance.He declined the abbatial dignitywhich was pressed upon him.

Our saint died soon afterEcgbritht’s accession to the see ofYork, but lived long enough towrite him a letter of advice uponhis advancement. Herein he putshim in mind that it be a most es-sential part of his duty to placeevery able and learned priest, tolabour strenuously himself feed-ing his flock, in correcting all vice,and endeavouring to convert allsinners, and to take care that ev-eryone knew the Lord’s prayerand the Creed and was thor-oughly instructed in the articles ofour holy religion.

The letter of Cuthbert deservesto have a place in the life of Bede,though it is here somethingabridged. “To his most beloved inChrist and fellow-reader Cuth-win, his school-fellow Cuthbertwishes eternal salvation in ourLord. Your small present was veryacceptable, and your letter gaveme much satisfaction, wherein Ifound what I greatly desired, thatmasses and prayers are diligentlysaid by you for Bede, the belovedof God, our late father and mas-ter. For the love I bear him, I sendyou in few words an account ofthe manner in which he departedthis world, understanding that itis what you desire. He began to bemuch troubled with a shortness ofbreath about two weeks beforeEaster, yet without pain; thus he


lived cheerful and rejoicing, giv-ing thanks to Almighty God everyday and night, nay every hour, tillthe day of our Lord’s Ascension,which was the 26th of May. Hedaily read lessons to us, his schol-ars; the rest of the day he spent insinging the psalms; he also passedall the night awake in joy andthanksgiving, only when he wasinterrupted by a short slumber;but awaking, he repeated his ac-customed exercises and ceased notto give thanks to God, with hishands expanded. O Truly happyman! He sung that sentence of St.Paul it is a dreadful thing to fall intothe hands of the living God, andmuch more out of holy writ. Be-ing well skilled in English verseshe recited some things in ourtongue. He said in English “Noman is too wise to consider whatgood or evil he has done, beforethe necessary departure” – that is,to examine the state of his soulsufficiently before his death. Healso sang anthems according tohis and our custom, one of whichis “O glorious King, Lord of Hosts,who triumphing this day didstascend above all the heavens,leave us not orphans; but senddown the Father’s Spirit of truthupon us: Alleluia.’ When he cameto that word, ‘leave us not’ heburst into tears and wept much;and an hour after he began to re-peat the same anthem he had com-menced, and we, hearing it,grieved with him. By turns weread, and by turns we wept; naywe always wept even when weread. In such joy we passed thefifty days and he rejoiced muchand gave God thanks because hedeserved to be so infirm. He oftenrepeated that God scourgeth everyson whom he receiveth; and much

more out of the scripture; also thatsentence of St. Ambrose: “I havenot lived so as to be ashamed tolive among you; nor am I afraidto die, because we have a goodGod.” During these days, besidesthe daily lessons he gave and thesinging of psalms, he composedtwo works for the benefit of thechurch: the one was a translationof St. John’s gospel into English,as far as the words: But what arethese among so many?; the other,some collections out of St.Isidore’s book of notes; for he said,“I will not have my scholars reada falsehood after my death, andlabour without advantage” OnTuesday before the Ascension hebegan to be much worse in hisbreathing, and a small swellingappeared in his feet; but he passedall that day pleasantly and dic-tated in school, saying now andthen, “Go on quickly; I know nothow long I shall hold out andwhether my Maker will soon takeme away.” To us he seemed verywell to know the time of his de-parture. He spent the night awakein thanksgiving. On Wednesdaymorning he ordered us to writespeedily what he had begun. Af-ter this, we made the processionaccording to the custom of thatday, waking with the relics of thesaints till the third hour (or nineo’clock in the morning); then oneof us said to him, “Most dear mas-ter, there is still one chapter want-ing. Do you think it troublesometo be asked anymore questions?”he answered “it is no trouble. Takeyour pen and write fast.” He didso. But at the ninth hour (three inthe afternoon) he said to me ‘Runquickly; bring all the priests of themonastery to me.” When theycame, he distributed to them some

pepper-corms, little cloths orhandkerchiefs, and incense whichhe had in a little box, entreatingeveryone that they would care-fully celebrate masses and sayprayers for him, which theyreadily promised to do. ‘It is nowtime for me to return to him whomade me and gave me a beingwhen I was nothing. I have liveda long time; my merciful judgemost graciously foresaw and or-dered the course of my life to me.The time of my dissolution drawsnear. I desire to be dissolved andto be with Christ. Yes; my souldesires to see Christ my king in hisbeauty.” Many other things hespoke to our edification and spentthe rest of the day in joy tillevening. The above mentionedyoung scholar, whose name wasWilberth, said to him, “Dear Mas-ter, there is still one sentence thatis not written.’ He answered,‘Write quickly.’ The young mansaid, ‘It is now done.’ He replied,‘You have well said it is at an end;all is finished. Hold my head, thatI may have the pleasure to sit,looking towards my little oratorywhere I used to pray, that while Iam sitting I may call upon myheavenly Father and, on the pave-ment of his little place, sing Glorybe to the Father, and to the Son, andto the Holy Ghost.’ Thus he prayedon the floor, and when he hadnamed the Holy Ghost, hebreathed out his soul. All declaredthat they had never seen anyonedie with such great devotion andtranquility; for so long as his soulwas in his body, he never ceased,with his hands extended, to givethanks and praise to God, repeat-ing Glory be to the Father… withother spiritual acts. I have manyother things I could relate of him;

and I have thought of writingmore amply on the subject.”

Bede died in the year 735 at theage of sixty-two, on Wednesdayevening, the 26th of May, afer thefirst vespers of Our Lord’s Ascen-sion, whence many authors say hedied on the feast of the Ascension,for our Saxon ancestors reckonedfestivals from first vespers.

ConclusionIt was the happiness of Vener-

able Bede that – receiving his edu-cation under the direction ofsaints, by their example, spirit andinstructions – he learned from hisinfancy the maxims and practiceof perfect sanctity. St. Chrysostomwishes that parents would breedup their children in monasteriestill they are to be produced in theworld. Several Roman senatorsand other noblemen, committedthe education of their sons to St.Bennet. The most austere andregular monasteries have beenchosen by virtuous parents of thefirst ran, whose principal desirewas that their children should bebrought up among saints, wheretheir passions would be in no dan-ger of being flattered, and wheretheir minds would be filled withChristian verities and Christ’sspirit, and their hearts formed topiety, grounded in the love, andexercised in habits of all virtues.This is the first and essential ad-vantage which parents are boundto procure their children, uponwhich their temporal and eternalhappiness depends and all otheradvantages and qualifications areto be founded. Let them not beneglected, but let this be securedin the first place and at all rates.q(From Butler’s Lives of Saints, ed. Michael Walsh)


THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERDby Don Carlo Broccardo

The fourth Sunday of Easterwhich this year falls on May3rd usually called “Good Shep-herd Sunday” because the Gos-pel is taken from the tenth chap-ter of John, the one in which –precisely – Jesus speaks of him-self using the image of the shep-herd and the sheep. Thinkingabout this gospel, whatresponsorial psalm could bemore suitable than Psalm 23 (22),the one which begins with thefamous words: “The Lord is myshepherd…”?

On our journey through theOld Testament today, we want toread this psalm; it is one of thebest known and also a verypopular hymn sung in ourchurches on Sundays! Let us readit once more; and we realize thatthere are two images used tospeak of God: the first is the shep-herd who protects his sheep andthe landlord who graciously wel-comes his guests.

Faith is serenity and deep joy that nothing can really upset,because we believe in the one who for love of us passed

through death and is now risen and repeats to us:“I am with you always.”

Let us begin with the shep-herd. In the ancient worldshepherding was one of the mainoccupations that guaranteedsubsistence of entire popula-tions. So everyone knew who ashepherd was, how he behaved,what were his tasks, the risks heran and the extent to which hewent to protect the sheep fromany kind of danger. And that waswhy so many ancient kings wererepresented as shepherds whotook care of their flock, that is, oftheir subjects. It was no coinci-dence that the great leaders ofthe people of Israel were shep-herds. Think for example ofMoses, who was grazing his fa-ther-in-law’s flock when heended up facing the burningbush (see Exodus 3:1); or Davidwho was looking after hisfather’s sheep when the prophetSamuel sent for him to anointhim king (see 1 Sam 16, 11)

Let us stay a moment with the

shepherd-king David. While stillwaiting to ascend the throne, be-cause it was occupied by Saul,the case of Goliath challengingthe best soldiers of Israel arose.No one had the courage to fighthim. David enters the scene tell-ing those around him that when-ever a lion or a bear threatenedhis father’s flock “I followed it”says David, “and I would tear thesheep from their jaws. If heturned against me I grabbed himby the jaws, knocked him downand killed him.” Then he con-cludes: this Philistine Goliathwill end up like the lion and thebear…

David was still a youth, but hecertainly didn’t lack courage!Here’s what is appealing in thePsalm of today: the Lord is justlike a shepherd as David was andmany others like him. The LordGod knows what is for my goodand he does it; being with him Ihave no need to be afraid. I knowhe is willing to risk everything tolead me safe and sound wherethere is the freshest grass andwhere I can drink from the brookin peace. Like any shepherd hehas a stick in his hand to beat

stalking wild animals and in theother hand he holds a crook (alonger stick) with which he beatsthe grounds so snakes flee. So hiscourage makes me say: “Withyou, I fear no evil.”

The second image moves usfrom the green pastures to ahouse: we no longer feel securelike sheep because the shepherdprotects them but now we feelserene like guests because thelandlord has prepared a dinnerfor his guests – us – and wel-comed us by anointing our headswith perfumed oil (that’s whatwas used). In our hands he hasplaced a cup filled with wine.What more could we ask for?And then, when the dinner isover, he will not let us go homealone. There will be two com-panions who will escort ussafely: his kindness and the faith-fulness of his word.

Psalm 23 goes dabbling in twovery common experiences in theancient world; a little less today(but fairly easy to imagine). Ittakes us into a world of positivefeelings: security, tranquility,goodness, fidelity, the joy of life.This is faith! There will also cer-

tainly be the aspect of thecommandments to be ob-served and the commit-ments to be realized, but itis first of all, peace and se-curity, because we trust theone who said to Moses: “Iwill be with you” (Ex 3:12)

Faith is serenity anddeep joy that nothing canreally upset us, because webelieve in the one who forlove of us passed throughdeath and is now risen andrepeats to us: “I am withyou always” Mt 28,20).q

VOICES OF THE OLD TESTAMENT


ODE TO JOYODE TO JOYODE TO JOYODE TO JOYODE TO JOYTaken from Pope Francis reflection on at Domus Sanctae Marthae on May 23, 2016

“

The identity card of a Christian is joy”. “Amazement” before the “greatness of God”, before his “love” and the “salvation” he hasgiven to humanity, leads the believer to a joy that none of life’s crossescan tarnish, because even trials are a “certainty that Jesus is with us”.

Inspired by the liturgy of the day, Pope Francis’ homily was a trueode to joy at the Mass he celebrated at Santa Marta on Monday morn-ing. The Pope wanted to specifically re-read the opening words of thesong taken from the First Letter of Peter (1:3-9) which, he said, becauseof its “exultant tone”, its “joyfulness” and the apostle’s way of inter-vening “with full force”, recalls the beginning “of Bach’s ChristmasOratorio”. Peter, in fact, writes: “Blessed be the God and Father of ourLord Jesus Christ!”

These are words in which one perceives “wonder before the great-ness of God”, before the “regeneration that the Lord — ‘in Jesus Christand through Jesus Christ’ — has made in us”. It is an astonishmentthat is full of triumph and cheerfulness”. Immediately after, the Popenoted, we see the “key phrase” of the letter’s text, namely: “In this yourejoice”.

The joy the apostle speaks of is lasting. For this reason, Pope Francisexplained, Peter adds in the epistle that, even if for a little while youare forced to “suffer various trials”, this joy from the beginning “willnot be taken away”. In fact, it stems from “what God has done in us:he has regenerated us in Christ and has given us hope”. A hope “whichthe early Christians depicted as an anchor in heaven”, and which, thePope said, is also ours. This is where joy comes from. Peter concludeshis message inviting everyone to “rejoice with an indescribable andglorious joy”.

From all of this, the Pontiff emphasized, we understand that joy istruly the “virtue of a Christian”. A Christian, he noted, “is a man orwoman who has joy in their heart”. Even more: “There can be no Chris-tian without joy”. Someone might object, saying: “But Father, I haveseen many!”. These people “are not Christians: they say that they are,but they are not, they are missing something”. That is why, the Popesaid, “the identity card of a Christian is his joy, the joy of the Gospel,the joy of having been chosen by Jesus, saved by Jesus, regenerated byJesus; the joy of the hope that Jesus is waiting for us. This is joy”.

In contrast to this ode to joy, the liturgy of the day proposes “an-other word”, one linked to the scene from the Gospel of Mark (10:17-27) in which we read about the young man “who approached Jesus inorder to follow him”. He was a “good young man”, capable of “con-quering Jesus’ heart”, who, we read, “fixed his gaze upon him” and“loved him”. Jesus made a proposal to this young man: “There is onething you lack: sell all that you have, give everything to the poor and

come, follow me”; but upon hearing these words the man’s “face wasgrim and he went away sorrowful”.

The young man, Pope Francis noted, “was unable to open his heartto joy and chose sadness”. Why was this? The answer is clear: “Be-cause he had many possessions. He was attached to goods”. Fur-thermore, Jesus himself warned that “one cannot serve two mas-ters: you either serve the Lord or you serve riches”.

This scene also sheds light upon our daily life “in our parishes,communities and institutions”. Indeed, the Pope said, if “we findpeople who say they are Christian, and want to be Christian, butare sad”, it means that something is “not right”. It is the duty ofeveryone to help these people “to find Jesus, to take away that sad-ness, so that they may rejoice in the Gospel and have this joy whichis truly of the Gospel”.

Pope Francis wanted to expand upon this central concept, and tolink joy to the amazement that emerges — as Peter recalls in his letter— “before revelation, before the love of God, before the emotions ofthe Holy Spirit”. Therefore we can say that “a Christian is a man orwoman of amazement”.

One word — “amazement” — which also returns at the end of theGospel passage of the day, “when Jesus explains to the apostles howthis good young man could not follow him, because he was attachedto riches, and says that it is very difficult for the rich, those who areattached to riches, to enter the kingdom of Heaven”. We read thatthey were “more astonished” and asked: “who can be saved?”.

The Pope explained that a man, a Christian, can be so amazedbefore such greatness and beauty, that one might think: “I cannotdo it. I do not know how to do it!”. But looking at his disciples faces,Jesus gives them the consoling answer: “It is impossible for men —man cannot do it... — but it is not so for God!”. We can, therefore,live “Christian joy”, the “wonder of joy” and be saved “from a lifeattached to things, to worldliness”, only “with the strength of God,the strength of the Holy Spirit”.

Therefore, the Pope concluded his homily with an invitation, say-ing “let us ask the Lord today to give us amazement before him,before the many spiritual treasures he has given us; and with thisamazement that he give us joy, the joy of our lives and of livingamidst many difficulties with peace in our hearts; May he protectus from seeking happiness in the many things that ultimately makeus sad: things that promise much, but will not give us anything”. Inconclusion, “remember this well: a Christian is a man or woman ofjoy, of joy in the Lord; a man or woman of wonder”.q

(by L'Osservatore Romano, Weekly ed. in English, n. 22, 3 June 2016)


COMING HOME TONIGHTCOMING HOME TONIGHTCOMING HOME TONIGHTCOMING HOME TONIGHTCOMING HOME TONIGHTBy Pierluigi Menato,

Translated and adapted by Ian Doulton

In the sudden downpour, thechildren playing in the street allran for cover. Beneath one of thethick plane trees stands a youngmother with her young son on herhip. She seems to be waiting forsomeone.

In fact, her gaze was directed tothe lighted windows of a lowbuilding which were the offices ofthe metal factory. Obviously, be-low the level of the windows therewere work tables, computers… allthat the mother and child couldsee was hectic activity that pre-cedes the end of a work day.

The employees were leaving oneby one, going their separate ways.Just two young employees re-mained; examining some cardscarefully. Then suddenly one ofthem raised his head and lookeddistractedly out of the window.

He was so distracted that hedidn’t even notice the youngmother and her boy.

“Daddy, daddy,” the little bychirped, waving his tiny hands. Itwas rather far and his fathercouldn’t really hear him. Themother wondered; how strangethat he didn’t remember the cus-tom of their dear little familywhen the weather was fair. Lukewas as cheerful as ever.

That afternoon, the mother, atidy and systematic woman, afterher nap and a cup of tea, entrustedLuke to the babysitter and took offfor her usual walk. She would beback around six. Then, after com-pleting several chores and gettingdinner ready, she would sit withher son till their little familywould be united once more. Like

the sweet return of spring; in theevening the sound of measuredfootsteps coupled with the patterof little feet brought a smile to herface. She would then hear the littlechatter of the boy telling his fatherabout his discoveries that day. Thefather showed no irritation or im-patience even as he hurried homebeneath the avenue of plane trees.Some days he was more tired butnever too tired to hurry home tothe joy and cheer of his little fam-ily and the mother drank in thesweetness of that moment as aflower drinks in the morning dew.

Still watching from the drive-way are the mother and son. To-night her husband seemed dis-tracted and even a little restless.He was at the window and thenhe moved away. He had not yetleft the office. He went to the door.Will he come out? “Luke, let’s goand meet him”… Just then an el-egant and young woman accom-panied Henry into the office. Thewife waiting in the drive couldwitness what was unfolding. Theoffice janitor came to the windowto shut it. All that could be seenwere two shapes behind thefrosted glass. She was followingtheir movements. Was she dream-ing? Was she having a nightmare?It was beginning to shock her. Sheis stunned and speechless. Herhusband Henry was holding thewoman close and she was restingher head on his chest. He kissedher… It was very clear, like a Chi-nese shadow play.

This was more than she couldbear. She put her child down; shedidn’t have the strength to hold

him on her hip. She felt like dying;her heart empty. She hurriedhome in a daze, her hands gentlybut firmly drawing her little sonhome. He was whining pitiably:“Why mummy? Why must wecome home so soon? Aren’t wewaiting for daddy?”

When she reached home shedidn’t respond to the babysitterwho asked if her husband wouldbe late. Like a robot, she removedher coat and went to the bedroomto sit on the huge bed with Lukein her lap. He was quiet… hecouldn’t understand this silence ofhis mother. A shadow had fallenover her pretty features she waslike a pencil sketch in black andwhite. As she held her little sonclose to her breast his little headbeneath her chin seemed to giveher that superhuman strengthneeded to overcome this dis-tress… something to clear hermind… If they had told her thatthe father of this little boy lovedanother woman, she would havelaughed as if it were some kind ofa bad joke. Her Henry, so sensitiveand sincere! Until today she be-lieved that…how could she havebeen so wrong?

This evening the unbelievablehad happened right before hereyes…but she was not willing tobelieve the evidence.

And yet, after what she had seenunfold before her eyes…behindthose frosted glass office windows,things couldn’t go on as before.The covenant was broken…theirsweet intimacy was at an end.

“Till now I was so happy, whatshall I do now?”

***

Henry’s voice interrupted herpainful brooding: “Silvia, Silvia,

where are you? Where’s Luke?”“Here, daddy” the little boy

screamed as he struggles to getdown from his mother’s lap andfinding himself at his daddy’s feet.Henry, on his knees looked into hislittle boy’s eyes and said: “Tell melittle man, why didn’t you cometo meet daddy this evening?”

“We had to run back because ithad begun to rain…” his mother’svoice answered. Finding her voicetook some superhuman strength.

“But why is it so dark in here?”What were you two doing?” askedher husband, drawing her to himand kissing her as he anxiouslyscanned her altered face. “You’relooking pale, my love! What’swrong? Are you sick?”

“But it’s almost dark here! Whatwere you doing?” asks her hus-band.

She did not mind attributing herlook to a terrible headache; in facther head ached terribly.

In the dim light of the bedroomshe whispered: “I’ll just lie downa little and maybe it will pass,” shesaid.

“Won’t you have a little soup atleast?”

“I think I’ll feel better if I don’teat anything.”

“Just a soothing spoonful per-haps,” he softly whispered as hegave her a teaspoon of some medi-cine for sleep. After that he did notinsist. ‘I will let her sleep in peace,perhaps she will tell me later.She’s so simple and sincere.’ Heturned off the bedside lampnearby and walked slowly out ofthe room with Luke at his side. Thiswas something unusual.

“Daddy, will you feed me thisevening? And won’t mummy eatanything?”

“Mummy’s not well.”


“Luke doesn’t want nanny…”“No, nanny won’t be coming,

my precious. Daddy will put youto bed tonight.”

“But do you know the song?“I know so many songs; I can

sing them till tomorrow morn-ing.”

“From the first to the last one,”the child clapped his hands glee-fully.

Alone in the darkened room, inthat big bed, Silvia listened to thechatter with her eyes closed. Itseemed like sweet music…

She had made up her mind. Inthe meantime she would go on asif she knew nothing; and besides,how could she find the courage toface Henry and ask him for expla-nations or even to accuse him? Butshe couldn’t bear it. She didn’twant to make a spectacle of herpain. Tomorrow morning shewould leave; but tonight her legswouldn’t respond…she was tooexhausted…

‘But then,’ Silvia thought to her-self through her painful thoughts…her good sense not distracted bythe chatter that now came fromthe living room. “How could a fa-ther, so good and so tender withsuch an affectionate child conceala guilty love in his heart?” Eventowards her he was his usual af-fectionate and thoughtful self…and there was no trace of anyawkwardness, not even in thetone of his voice, in his face or inhis eyes… there was only candour.

“I wish this is only a dream!”Silvia sighed, overcome with an-guish. Just then, her husband en-tered the bedroom to put Luke tobed; the boy had fallen asleep inhis arms waiting for a lullaby – hefound her drowsy, her head rest-ing in the crook of her arm. Was

she pretending or was she reallyasleep? Henry was very discreet.He didn’t wait to clear his doubtshe just tiptoed out of the room si-lently. He would be up late goingover his accounts and takingnotes.

***

The following morning theheadache still lingered thoughSilvia forced a smile in the hopethat she would feel a bit better.Henry seemed relieved thoughhe looked very worried: “If itdoesn’t pass by the time I gethome this evening, I’ll call thedoctor,” he said as he lefther…telling Luke to take goodcare of mummy.

As soon as she heard his foot-steps on the stairs, Silvia got upand began dressing herself slowlyand more serenely, trying all thetime to think again…trying to re-member how things were beforelast evening’s incident. She felt shehad no right to take any decisionwithout having enough evidence.What she saw last night wasn’tenough proof of the love of hisheart. Having finished dressingshe went to Henry’s study – some-thing she had never done before –she started rummaging throughhis papers. She could only find andby chance an address in a cornerof his desk folder – the nameWanda Bishop, Hotel Titan… andshe struggled to read some freshscribbling on the napkin.“Bishop!” wasn’t that her sur-name, her husband’s surname?And “Wanda” wasn’t that thename of his sister, her sister-in-law? That little girl with a face likea gypsy – seen in the family por-trait; didn’t Henry rarely speak ofher and only in vague terms of her

adventurous life…always leavingaside the details?

Suddenly something struck her.Silvia took out her cellphone andpunched in a number: “Mr.Bishop, please, it’s urgent.”

“Hello…is that you Henry?”“Silvia...what’s it my dear?”“Could I come to your office for

a moment? I need to talk to youright away.”

At the other end...her husbandseemed to smile: “Can’t you justtell me on the phone? No…well,come on then, I’ll be waiting foryou.”

A quarter of an hour later,Silvia and Henry sat oppositeeach other in the guest parlour.

“Tell me...what is it?”Silvia was upset and emotional

and could only stutter as sheshowed him the address she hadfound.

“Of course, my sister Wanda isback,” said Henry, a frown dis-turbing his handsome features.Silvia then told him what she hadseen at the window the previousnight while she waited for himwith Luke outside beneath theplane trees. “And you don’t needto tell me what you thought, mypoor Silvia! I’ve already under-stood that.” Henry always indul-gent even seemed a little annoyed.

“Did you know? Not for a mo-ment, not even later did it crossmy mind that it could have beenyour sister…” Silvia was anxiousto explain herself. Then Silviaadded: “You spoke as if you neverwanted to see her again.”

“Instead, our little swallow hascome home...almost ten years af-ter she had flown the nest. Yes,she’s come back; and as often hap-pens, under a pall of painful hu-miliation and tears. She knew that

even if the nest was dismantledthe hearts of her brothers wouldnever reject her. She turned to mebefore the others because sheknew the address of my company.She made an appointment over thephone. She’s sick Silvia…I prom-ised her that I would talk to you be-fore making any decision.”

“Oh Henry! Why didn’t you saysomething last night?” She scoldedhim.

“I saw you so upset I thought I’dwait for a better time.”

“Let’s not dwell on this anymore,my dear!” pleaded Silvia tenderly.“Now that I know, let me take careof everything.”

In an effort to forget her painSilvia took off immediately to bringcomfort to Wanda her sister-in-law.

Earlier in the day, in the hotelroom, Wanda was reading thenote her brother had sent her. Ithad reached an hour ago: “…Ihaven’t spoken to Silvia yet. Ifound her a bit unwell when I gothome. Just rest for the moment, Ithought we could postpone thingstill tomorrow. Just have a bit of pa-tience…” Wanda was tired anddiscouraged and murmured:“Henry is looking for a pretext tocover up his wife’s refusal to takecare of me, and that’s only natu-ral. That’s just what I deserved…”

That evening too, Henry cameright home from the office andSilvia who had been on the moveall day was a little tired, but ex-tremely happy.

She had left Wanda, comfortedand almost happy in the littlewhite room at the clinic where shewas to be treated.

Yesterday was just a bad dreamand the nest is chirping again to-day with its new-found serenity.q


FIORETTIFIORETTIFIORETTIFIORETTIFIORETTIOF DON BOSCO - 16OF DON BOSCO - 16OF DON BOSCO - 16OF DON BOSCO - 16OF DON BOSCO - 16

by Michele Molineris

Grigio (Continued)Once again in Umbria, in 1893,

a sister of the Daughters MaryHelp of Christians and a compan-ion were going from Cannara toAssisi and on their way they werehelped by Grigio.

The sister in question was Sr.Amalia Calaon and at the time sheencountered “Grigio,” althoughshe was only twenty-four, she wasalready eight years a professedreligious. She was from Padua anddied in Bordighera (Imperia) in1937 at the age of 68 after 53 yearsof religious life. Here is her testi-mony.

“It was November 2, 1893. I wasin Cannara for about a month.Cannara was an Umbrian townsituated in a charming, fertile val-ley. The superior Sister BrigidaPrandi, new as I was to the houseand the place, called me and said:“Would you like to take a trip toAssisi?”

I looked at her in amazementand she, sensing my difficultyadded: “No, not alone, of course,but with Sister Dallara. I need tosend something to his Excellencythe Bishop, something important;besides that, to purchase some-thing from the village that wecannot find here and to pick up abox at the station…

We left at one o’clock and wewalked and walked but we neverseemed to reach the beautiful hillwhich seemed closer to us fromhome. If we had only known howfar it was we wouldn’t have leftso late. We quickened our paceand we were still talking about our

venerated Father Don Boscowhose life we had been reading inthe refectory. We didn’t feel thetime passing and were not ex-hausted at all. After more thantwo hours we finally reached thatmystical city which is perenniallypervaded with the spirit of theseraphic Poverello. Meanwhile,from the valley rose a faint fogthat blurred the long and widestreets, the gurgling brooks, thecharming villages and the beauti-ful dome of Vignola. Taking somebold shortcuts we reached the sta-tion where we were able to pickup the box and we took off forCannara.

Darkness had fallen; the fog hadthickened and we were unable todistinguish anything anymore.Quickening our pace; our heartsbeating nervously we yearned forhome which we knew was stillvery far away. The provincial roadwas wide and straight but never-ending. Suddenly we had a doubt:what if we were on the wrongroad? We stopped at a rustic houseand asked a woman at the doorwith a lantern in her hand: Is thisthe road to Cannara?

- No, no, dear sisters. This is theroad to Foligno. You should goback and where you will see awide road almost like this one, gostraight and you won’t bewrong…but – she went on kindly,- wouldn’t it be better if youstopped here and spent the night?We are poor but a bed and a mod-est dinner wouldn’t be lacking.Where do you want to go all alonein the dark?

We thank you but we must getback. It was very quiet; only thedistant sound of the barking ofsome watchdogs reached us fromtime to time. New to the place we

were not used to customs so dif-ferent from ours. We were seri-ously afraid. Turning to my dearcompanion I said: Oh, if DonBosco – of whom we had spokenso much today and whom welove so much - would send usGrigio to defend us!

- Really- replied Sister Annetta.I sensed fear and anxiety in her

voice and we went back to our si-lence, each of us secretly prayingbeneath our breaths. Two minuteshad not passed when from anearby thicket came out an unrec-ognizable animal. It jumped theditch separating the road from thefield and was panting loudly. Itcame and stood between SisterAnnetta and me. We lookedstartled; the animal was tall withgrey hair and two long ears andlively eyes that sparkled in thedark. The animal raised its snout,sniffed both of us and thenwalked quietly between us as if ithad always known us. We werescared at first but then… (Ah, thegoodness of our venerable Father).We wept with relief. The big dog,like a meek lamb continued walk-ing between us and gently touch-ing our hand almost as if to say:Don’t worry, I’m here! I will pro-tect you like a friend. Go aheadsafely.

At a certain point, out of thedark there was the sound of heavyfootsteps and we heard a familiarvoice exclaim: Ah, finally, thereyou are!

It was Bartoccio, the good manwho worked for the community.Sr. Superior had asked him tocome out and meet us, anxiousthat there might have been an ac-cident, since we had not yetreached home.

When he saw the big dog, he

exclaimed, - Mamma mia! Whata beast! Be off! So saying, he raisedhis stick as if to threaten the dog.

- For heaven’s sake, don’t touchit, it has protected us all the way.

Without further incident, wereached our institution. At thefoot of the steps was the superior,anxiously waiting. Seeing us ap-proach she breathed a sigh of re-lief but she too was surprised tosee the mysterious animal.

Grigio – let me call him – cameinto the house with us and put hisfoot on the second step of the stair-case and looked up at us and stoodstill. I turned to the Superior andasked: “Wouldn’t it be nice to giveit something, a piece of bread atleast? This good animal has sowillingly accompanied us home.

I hadn’t finished speaking,when the dog turned and quicklyleft through the door. We allthought of running out to catchhim…but the square was so vastand so dark it was not possible forus to see him. He was gone.

All praise and thanks to DonBosco who in a similar endeavour,sent his mysterious Grigio to de-fend us) (Salesian Bulletin July1919, 179; EBM XVI 21).

* * *

In 1930 the Daughters of Mary,Help of Christians were buildingin Barranquilla, Colombia. Every-day news reached them of robber-ies and violence in the city and itssurroundings, and they too fearedthe marauders because during thewhole month of April they had tostore outdoors heaps of construc-tion materials and furnishings liketubs, sinks, doors and windows.Of course the thieves knew theplace well. On four occasions, be-fore construction actually began,


SALESIANSALESIANSALESIANSALESIANSALESIAN

SAINTSSAINTSSAINTSSAINTSSAINTS

BRONISLAOBRONISLAOBRONISLAOBRONISLAOBRONISLAOMARKIEWICZMARKIEWICZMARKIEWICZMARKIEWICZMARKIEWICZ

1842 - 19121842 - 19121842 - 19121842 - 19121842 - 1912

Bronislao Markiewicz wasborn on July 13, 1842 in Pruchnikin Poland, in what is today in theLatin archdiocese of Przemysl.He was the sixth of eleven chil-dren of John Markiewicz, mayorof the town and MariannaGryziecka. He received a soundreligious formation in his family,but later on during his highschool studies he grew uncertainabout his faith, largely due to theanti-religious ambient thatreigned in the school. However,he managed to overcome this cri-sis soon enough and regained hisserenity and inner peace.

Having graduated from highschool, the young Bronislao en-tered the seminary in 1863 be-cause he felt God calling him tothe priesthood. When he com-pleted his regular course of stud-ies he was ordained a priest onSeptember 15, 1867. After sixyears of pastoral work as an as-sistant parish priest in the par-ish of Harta and the Cathedralof Przemysl, he wanted to workfor youth for which reason hetook two years to study peda-gogy, philosophy and history atthe universities of Lviv andKrakow. In 1875 he was ap-pointed parish priest of Gaé andin 1877 of Blazowa. In 1882 hewas entrusted with teaching pas-toral theology in the Major Semi-nary of Przemysl.

Feeling called to the religiouslife in November 1885 he left forItaly and joined the Salesians. Hehad the joy of meeting Saint JohnBosco, into his hands he made hisreligious profession on March 25,1887. As a Salesian he carried outthe various duties entrusted tohim by his superiors and tried tofulfil them with dedication andzeal. Because of his austerelifestyle and the incompatibilityof the climate Bronislao fell seri-ously ill in 1889 with tuberculo-sis and was considered neardeath. Having recovered fromhis illness he convalesced in Italyuntil March 23, 1892 when withthe permission of the superiorshe returned to Poland where heassumed the role of Parish Priestat Miejsce Piastowe at Przemysl,his diocese of origin.

In addition to his regular par-ish activity Bronislao Markie-wicz dedicated himself, in the

they had broken into the resi-dence, and, though they did nodamage, they frightened the sis-ters. The sisters therefore prayedto Don Bosco to send them hisGrigio for protection. One night,behold, into the corridor of theirold residence trooped a string ofdogs, six of them, never beforeseen in the neighborhood! Theyposted themselves in theplayfields and in the darkest com-ers of the old house. Getting overtheir fear, the sisters approachedthe dogs and found them to bevery friendly. At six o’clock thenext morning the dogs filed outjust as they had come in, and thisthey did for an entire month.Later, only three dogs appeared,of which one was poisoned, butanother one immediately replacedhim. They kept guard until thedanger passed.

* * *

A third case took place at LaNavarre in France sometime be-tween 1898 and 1900. SisterJosephine Cretaz and SisterVerina Valenzano, recording theaccount twenty years later, couldnot remember the precise date. Asis customary there, toward theend of October, the sisters ventureinto the nearby villages in searchof chestnuts, remaining out forthree days. On that occasion thetwo sisters went together. Goingfrom one village to another tooksome four hours, mainly throughsparsely inhabited woods. At acertain point the solitude and si-lence got to them and they pan-icked. “We can be ambushed outhere,” they cried, “and there’s noone to defend us or even knowwe’re here!” As they mulled over

these somber thoughts, theyheard a rustling in the bushes asthough someone were kicking upthe leaves, but there was nothingto be seen. Suddenly a huge dogappeared, drawing near themand wagging its tail; he circledaround them and nudged theirshoulders with his head as thoughto say, “Don’t be afraid! I’mhere.” He then dashed out into theopen, picked up a chestnut treebranch in his teeth, tossed it play-fully into the air and ran to catchit, keeping always in front of them,as though trying to distract them.“Could this be Don Bosco’sGrigio?” they asked each other.They were hoping to bring the doghome with them on their return.However, just as they were ap-proaching the town they met acoach with some ladies they knewand they stopped for a chat withthem. Meanwhile the dog disap-peared without a single trace.(EBM XVI, 21,22).

* * *

What did Don Bosco thinkabout it? That can be deducedfrom a conversation he had in1872 with the barons Ricci at TheMadonna dell’Olmo (Cuneo). Asthe discussion had turned toGrigio, of whom everyone hadknown, Don Bosco said: “Let’sleave Gris alone!” I haven’t seenhim for some time!

It was two years that he hadnot seen him, because in 1870 hewas heard to exclaim: “This dogis really a significant feature inmy life! To say he was an angelwould make you laugh; butneither can it be said that he wasany ordinary dog, because I sawhim again the other day” (M.B.,X, 386). q


MARY THE DOOR OF FAITHMARY THE DOOR OF FAITHMARY THE DOOR OF FAITHMARY THE DOOR OF FAITHMARY THE DOOR OF FAITHby Maria Ko Ha Fong

spirit of Don Bosco to the forma-tion of poor and orphanedyouth. At Miejsce Piastowe heopened for them an institutionwhich offered them trades thatprepared them for life and pro-fessional training schools close tothe institute itself. For this pur-pose, in 1897 he founded two newreligious congregations inspiredby the spirituality of Don Boscoadapting his rules specifically tohis own charism. Once again hewas welcomed among the clergyof the diocese of Przemysl. Fa-ther Markiewicz continued hisactivity as a parish priest anddirector of the institute to whichgave the programme, Work andTemperance (1898). He tried toobtain the approbation for hisgroup as a religious congregationunder the patronage of St.Michael the Archangel, with amale and female branch, sadlythe approval came just a fewyears after his death: in 1921 forthe congregation of St. Michaelthe Archangel (Michaelites) formen and in 1928, for the congre-gation of the Sisters of St. Michaelthe Archangel also calledMichaelites.

Father Bronislao continued al-ways with the blessing and theapproval of the bishop, St. JosephSebastian Pelczar, as a trainer ofyoung people and or-phans and abandonedchildren, using as col-laborators those he hadhimself prepared. Al-ready in MiejscePiastowe he had of-fered a home andtrained hundreds ofboys spending himselfentirely for them. Eagerto do much more, in

August 1903 he opened a newhome in Pawlikowice nearKrakow where he found a homefor more than 400 orphans giv-ing them the opportunity of pro-fessional and spiritual training.

His total dedication to his chil-dren, his heroic spirit of self-de-nial took its toll of his healthwhich was already being under-mined by the disturbances thathad been going on in Italy. Allthis lead, quite quickly, to theend of his earthly pilgrimage onJanuary 29, 1912.

Blessed Bronislao Markiewiczdistinguished himself by his greatlove for his neighbour in the per-son of the poorest, most ne-glected and abandoned orphansto whom he gave himself self-lessly. He was very eager to wel-come more and more boys and tooffer them the human warmththat they so lacked. This deepdesire was expressed in his ownwords: “I would like to gathermillions of abandoned childrenof all kinds, feed them for freeand clothe them in body andspirit.” To this commitment oflove, coupled with the coura-geous option for the poor he re-mained faithful to the end of hislife, heroically accepting all theconsequences that flowed fromthese choices.q

Benedict XVI launched the yearof faith with the motu proprio“Porta Fidei.” It was the fiftiethanniversary of the Opening of theSecond Vatican Council and thetwentieth anniversary of the pub-lication of the “Catechism of theCatholic Church.” The opening ofthe “door of faith” in many heartsis a suggestive image used by Luketo describe the rapid spread of theGospel to the Gentiles (Acts14:27). The Pope applied this anal-ogy with conviction that it leadsto life and a communion withGod, permitting us entrance intohis Church, a door which is alwaysopen to people of our generation.Over the years, the Church hasbeen blessed with a host of wit-nesses and missionaries who havecrossed the threshold of this doorwith fervor and creativity andhave helped others to enter. As aleader, Mary is proclaimed“blessed because she believed”(Lk:1:45), and she is recognized asthe model for the believer, the firstto be evangelized and the firstevangelizer. She is the perfect im-

JOU

JOURNEYING WITH MARY

At the annunciation Mary passes from the question: “How will this takeplace?” to the exclamation: “Let it happen.” She does not know that itwill result in a joyful trust and this should be a model for every believer.

age of the door of faith; in fact,generations of believers go thro-ugh Mary to Jesus. We entrust thistime of grace and growth of faithto her. To her, the ‘door of faith’we dedicate these reflections en-titled “our walk with Mary” thisyear.

The daily joys of NazarethLet us start with the scene of the

Annunciation at Nazareth. Marymakes her first appearance in theGospel in the context of total or-dinariness, in a cozy space, in anattitude of listening and of silence,like a good field open and waitingfor the arrival of the seed.

“Entering her,” the angel bringsher the Word of God.

At the unexpected announce-ment of the angel Gabriel, Mary’sresponse is not instantaneous. Herfirst reaction is one of bewilder-ment, typical of someone who be-comes aware of being faced withsomething infinitely transcen-dent; an unexpected surprisewhose meaning she is not imme-diately able to grasp. This is not a


NEWSBITSdoubt rising out of disbelief butrather a sense of amazement atthe disproportion between thesize of the proposal and the ac-tual limitedness of the capacityfor realization. It is the attitudeof someone who is humble andreflective; of someone who isaware of his/her littleness andso she approaches the mysterytimidly and discreetly carefullytrying to fathom its mystery.This is how the poor feel as theymarvel at gifts freely given.Mary’s second reaction is an ob-jection. Mary asks for light:“Quomodo fiet istud?” (How canthis be?); and she states her di-lemma of wanting to consent butnot knowing how. She asks Godwhat she would have to do to beable to obey. The spirit of Maryis like that of the Psalmist whenhe prays to God saying: “Helpme to understand your laws,and I will meditate on your won-derful teachings […] Explainyour law to me, and I will obeyit; I will keep it with all myheart.” (Ps 119:27,34).

The silence of unbelief in JerusalemAfter the angel shows her she

was to become a protagonist, thelocus and witness of “great things,”Mary accepts with full availability.She passes from “how can this hap-pen?” to “let it happen,” from aquestion mark to an exclamationmark. It is the impact between thehuman and the divine. Mary mys-teriously crosses the threshold ofa door that passes from existingfor herself and for her own smalllife- plans to existing for God andfor his great designs. Mary’s ‘yes,’like the yes Jesus taught us in theOur Father (Mt 6:10) is a trustingabandonment and a joyful desire

to fulfil God’s will. With her ‘yes’she brings together the host of obe-dient people of faith in the OldTestament and ushers in the newpeople, ready to listen to the voiceof God who now speaks throughhis Son. The dynamic of Mary’sinner journey is even clearer if weconsider the intentional compari-son that Luke makes between thetwo annunciations: to Zechariahand to Mary. Zechariah, an eld-erly, well-respected priest, an up-right man and a perfect represen-tative of Old Testament religion,encounters the angel in Jerusalemwhile he is performing worship. Aholy man in a holy place at a holytime: everything underlies the sa-credness and the solemnity of theevent. Mary, on the other hand: anunknown girl from an unknowntown from which nothing goodcan come (Jn 1:46), encounters anangel in her simple home. But Godreverses the positions. The angelcomes “from her” since Mary isactually the temple of the MostHigh. She “has found favour withGod.” The divine gift comes to herfor free, not because she has ob-served the law or in response toher prayer-request, as was thecase of Zechariah. Even the conclu-sions of the stories differ: Mary be-lieves, she is open and collabo-rates in God’s plan to save theworld while Zechariah is closedand mute, isolated. The one whodoes not believe in God’s designwill not even be able to talk aboutit.

The astonishment of Mary ofNazareth at the impact of themystery, her gratitude at God’simmense generosity and her jour-ney from bewilderment to joyfulfaith, must remain forever the pat-tern for every believer.q

ROME

The words spoken in Trieste onNovember 18, 2019 by a LocalCouncilor of Forza Nuova (and ex-Lega), regarding the Holocaust sur-vivor and Lifetime Senator LillianaSegre, “As a Catholic, I feel offended,because she said that ‘Jesus was Jew-ish’” - more than arousing amaze-ment at the Councilor’s absolute ig-norance of the history of his ownreligion, can be heard as a warningsignal concerning a generalized lackof knowledge about the origins ofChristianity - and its deep roots inJudaism.

Corrado Augias wrote in “LaRepubblica” on November 30th,

2019: “It happened to me quite afew times. If one states in publicthat Jesus was a Jew, a son of Jews,and that he died a Jew, we oftenmeet with considerable bewilder-ment. Yet the Scriptures are clear:Jesus was circumcised eight daysafter his birth, thus signing his cov-enant with the Blessed One ac-cording to the Torah (the Law)”.And Don Giuliano Savina, Direc-tor of Ecumenism at CEI (The Ital-

ian Bishops’ Conference), who hasjust published a very topical book“Shaping consciences to clear thevision: a permanent urgency fora confessional ecumenical andinter-religious catechesis”, told usin an interview with Vatican In-sider on September 12, 2018 thatwhen he was parish priest inMilan his parishioners were re-peatedly “shocked” when he re-vealed to them the obvious, well-known fact that “Jesus was not aChristian, he never entered achurch. He was a Jew and at-tended a synagogue”. This wasfollowed by an invitation. “Wetoo will visit the synagogue to ex-perience the way in which Jesuspracticed his faith”.

The depressing examples of pro-found religious and historical ig-norance evidence not only thelow cultural level of a few parlia-mentarians representing partiescovering the entire Italian politi-cal spectrum, butcan also befound amongst large sections ofthe general population. The manyabsurd comments we heard afterthe Trieste incident include a sur-real conversation overheard in abar: “Of course Jesus was not Jew-ish - he was Palestinian!”

Don Giuliano says that“’Nostra Aetate’ and all subse-quent documents written by theCatholic Church to combat anti-semitism and strengthen the tiesbetween the two fraternal reli-gions have remained withinbooks and folders that are collect-ing dust instead of being trans-lated directly into people’s dailylives”.(Lisa Palmieri-Billig is AJC’sLiaison to the Holy See)q


THE DEVOTION OF THE THREE HAIL MARYS

The devotion of the THREE HAIL MARYS isa very simple yet most efficacious devotion.Everyday, recite Three Hail Marys, adding theinvocation: "O Mary, My Mother, keep me frommortal sin." Many people recite the Three HailMarys as part of their morning and night prayers.To practise this devotion in time of danger, stress,special need or temptation, is a sure means toobtain Our Lady's help.

IN A CHEERFUL MOODAnd be quickCaller: “And will you wall withme as far as the bus stop,Tommy?”Tommy: “I can’t.”Caller: “And why not?”Tommy: “Because we’re going tohave dinner as soon as youleave.”

Manner of CourtOne day when old Stevens, thelawyer, was pleading a case incourt, the judge ruled againsthim for the second time, and oldStevens got up with scarlet faceand commenced gathering hispapers as if to quit the court-room.“Do you understand, Mr.Stevens,” the judge asked, eyeinghim indignantly, “that you’retrying to show contempt of thiscourt?”“No, your Honour,” repliedStevens,” I don’t want to showmy contempt; I’m trying veryhard to conceal it.”

The Sound of PeaceShe was tucking her grandson inbed.“Shall I tell you a bedtimestory?” she whispered.“Not tonight, Grandma,” thechild murmured.“Then, shall I sing you alullaby?”“No,” replied the child.“Suppose you go away and letme get some sleep?”

Precise Prayerful PetitionLittle Ben, growing out of earlychildhood, was being taught toaddress his parents as “father”

and “mother”One night, saying his prayers, hefollowed the usual practice,“Lord bless daddy andmummy.” Then suddenly hepaused and in a most solemn andrespectful manner offered a re-vision: “Excuse me, Lord, Ishould have said father andmother.” He meditated briefly,then concluded, “But Lord, theyare the same old parties.”

An Irish Dying WishAn Irish gentleman lying on hisdeathbed was questioned by hisprospective widow. “PoorMike,” she said broken-heartedly, “is there anything thatwould make you comfortable?Anything you ask for I’ll giveyou.”“Please Bridget,” the dying manwhispered, “I think I’d like a weetaste of ham I smell aboiling inthe kitchen.”“Arrah, go on,” said Bridget,shaking her head.“Not a bit of ham you’ll get! ‘Tisfor the funeral, man.”

License to KillA policeman watched a womantrying to maneuver her automo-bile out of a parking space. Shebanged into the car ahead, theninto the car behind and finally,when pulling out into the street,crashed into a passing auto. Thiswas too much for the officer. Hewalked over to her and said,“Lady, let me see your driving li-cence.”“She gave him a friendly smileand replied, “Don’t be silly officer,who would give me a licence? q

On September 27th 2019, as I was cleaning the topof the old septic tank, one of the four slabs broke and I fell inside thetank. I called out to my daughter-in-law, who came rushing to my aid.One big part of the slab stood beside me and the other part under me.As I could not stand, my husband got inside by the ladder and broughtme up on his shoulders and my daughter-in-law was there to receiveme. I was rushed to the hospital. The x-ray showed a hairline fractureof the tibia bone and some 60cc coagulation of blood was removedwith no other injury. Sacred Heart of Jesus and Mother Mary werethere for me. My family always recites Psalm 91. My life was sparedfrom what could have been fatal. Everyone was astonished at mymiraculous escape. Maria E. D’Souza, GoaMy sincere thanks to Mother Mary for all the numerous blessingsbestowed on me and my family through the recitation of the three HailMarys. Mother Mary please continue to protect and shower yourblessings on us. Mrs. I. FernandesMy father had been going regularly to clean a wound he had for overa year. However on this day, when he went to the hospital for a follow-up the doctor informed us that the wound was badly infected and hadtouched the bone. There was immediate need to get it operated tosee if it had touched the joint, in which case his toe would have to beamputated. Our constant prayers to Our Lady through the Holy Rosaryand Our Lady’s intercession with her Son, the next day at the surgerythe doctor informed us that they had to scrape right up to the bone,but miraculously there was no need for amputation of the toe. Marywas there and is there everyday. We just need to call out to her bypraying the Rosary daily. RochelleWith a humble and grateful heart, I thank dearest Mother Mary for thenumerous favours we receive over the years. The devotion to thethree Hail Marys has always helped me and my family in troubledtimes. Mother Mary has always come to my rescue in difficult times.Dear Mother Mary, please continue to bless our families with peace,compassion, happiness, health and love for Christ now and forever.

A. Furtado, Goa


APOSTLESHIP OF PRAYERMAY 2020

For DeaconsWe pray that deacons, faithful in their service to the Word and thepoor, may be an invigorating symbol for the entire Church.

THANKS TO DEAR

ST. DOMINIC SAVIO

LOVING CHILDREN TO

THEIR LOVING MOTHER

THEY ARE GRATEFUL TO

OUR LADY AND DON BOSCO

I was coming with my husband on our bike from Thane to Chembur(Mumbai) and we were saved from a major accident. Our bike skidand we fell but we escaped with minor bruises. I always carry myrosary and recite it while travelling. Mary was there and I stronglybelieve that it was she who saved us from the major accident. Thankyou Mother Mary for your timely help. Mrs. Tessy John, MumbaiThis happened thirty-one years ago in the month of August 1988. Iwas working on an offshore Rig at Bombay High. There was anexplosion and a fire. Three employees were killed at the site. I wassupposed to have been on duty that night. The day before the accidentI was “urgently summoned” to attend a judicial settlement at Pune.Having secured permission (which was very difficult to obtain) I leftthe rig accordingly. However, to my extreme surprise that midnightthe rig caught fire. I am certain that Jesus and Mother Mary and St.Anthony brought me out of the rig. That is the reason I am still alive.We are thankful to Jesus, Mother Mary and all the saints and weexpress our deepest gratitude. Jose Chunkathe

Thank you Jesus, Mother Mary and St. Joseph for always being withus throughout our pregnancy and helping us cope with stress and forthe normal delivery of my baby. Thank you St. Dominic Savio for thesafe delivery of my baby and many favours received.

N.fernandes, LondonDear Sweet Jesus, Our Blessed Mother and all the saints andangels for helping my daughter Petra Guerra in her job in Canada;in helping her successful negotiations with the management andunion members for the factory workers and for keeping my sonBrendon Wasdell, safe from accidents while driving his cab andbringing him nome safe. C.E. Wasdell, BangaloreHeartfelt thanks for a safe delivery of a healthy child and for all theother favours received. We are eternally grateful to Don Bosco,Mother Mary, St. Jude and St. Anthony. Please protect our homealways. Glenn D’Souza & Family, MumbaiMy sincere thanks to Jesus, Mother Mary and St. Jude for grantingmy prayers. Rohit, MumbaiThanks to the blessed Trinity and Our Lady for helping my daughtersecure 91.2% in her SSC board exams and for all the other favours.

Jonitha D’CruzThank you Mother Mary, Help of Christians for the successful heartoperation of my son-in-law. P. GomesThank you, Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart ofMary for the blessings of good health of Francis Sofia, Flora andCedric and for the help received during the hard times. Pleasecontinue to help us in our day to day struggles. Sofia Lobo, Pune

Thank you dear Lord Jesus, Mother Mary, DonBosco, St. Dominic Savio and St. Anthony for helpingmy daughter to receive good marks in her H.S.C.Board e

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