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The following is an excerpt from the autobiography of St. John Bosco. About an experience he had at school in Chieri. I find this incident very amusing . It shows his God given talents , something that he will use for God's glory and also we identify with the boy and student in him as he tries to hide his mistake from his teacher. :)


After a couple of months in this class, something happened that gave rise to some comment about me. One day the teacher was explaining the life of Agesilaus in Cornelius Nepos. I did not have my book with me that day, and to cover my forgetfulness, I kept my Donate open in front of me. My companions noticed, and first one and then another began to laugh. Suddenly the whole classroom was in an uproar.
"What's going on here?" shouted the teacher. "What's going on?" he shot at me, this time. Everyone was looking at me. He told me to construe the text and repeat his explanation. I got to my feet, still holding my Donate. From memory I repeated the text, construed it, and explained it. Instinctively my companions expressed their admiration and burst into applause. The teacher was angry beyond description. It was the first time, according to him, that he had failed to maintain discipline. He swung at me, but I saw it coming and ducked. Next he placed his hand on my Donate and demanded of my neighbours the reason for all the commotion.
"Bosco had his Donato in front of him all the time," my companions explained, "but he read and explained the lesson as if he had the Cornelius text." The teacher took the Donato and insisted I go on for two sentences more. Then he said to me, "In tribute to your wonderful memory, I'll overlook your forgetfulness. You're blessed. Only see that your gift is put to good use."
At the end of that school year (1830-1831)  as a result of my high marks, I was promoted to the third class, equivalent to the third year of ginnasio.

 :happyroll:

What a wonderful memory he had! God gave him so many talents!

The oil patch spreads  Excerpt from 'Don Bosco - a new biography  By Teresio Bosco Translated by C. Moja

     Every Thursday, Margaret used to go to the market at Castelnuovo. She would set out with bundles containing cheese, chicken, vegetables and other farm odds and ends for sale. In the evening she would come back with cloth, candles, salt and some little present for the boys. The boys knew the time and they would tear down the path to meet her.
    One memorable Thursday, during a most exciting game of tip-cat, the wooden peg ended up on the roof. John was quick:
     "There's another one on the kitchen cupboard."
     He ran for it. The cupboard was, however, too high for him. He had to use a chair, stand on tip-toe, and stretch. Crash! The big jar of oil which was kept on the shelf fell to the ground, and the oil stain began spreading all over the red tiles.
     Joseph came running to see what happened. "What will mother say?" he said.
     The brothers worked frantically to clean up the mess. The shards were easily gathered up. But the oil kept spreading, and there was nothing they could do about it.
     John spent a half hour in silence. Then he pulled out his penknife, went to the hedge, and selected a long, flexible twig. As he sat carving little rings and designs on it, he was thinking of  what to say to his mother.
     At dusk they saw their mother arriving. Joseph, hesitant, fell back a bit. John ran towards her.
     "Good evening, mamma, how are you feeling? Had a nice day?"
     "Yes, yes. And you boys, you have behaved, I hope?"
     "Well, mamma, look at this....," said John, presenting her with the rod he had kept hidden behind his back.
     "What is it this time?"
     "This time I really deserve a caning. I've broken the jar of oil." He reeled out the whole story.
     "I've brought you a cane, because this time I really deserve it. Take it, mamma."
     He offered her the cane with such a look, that his mother could not help laughing. John joined in, relieved. Margaret took him by the hand, and together they walked up the slope towards the house.
     "Do you know you are becoming a first class rascal, Johnny? I feel bad about the oil jug. But I am glad you told me the whole truth. Be careful in future: you know how expensive oil is."
     Joseph also drew near, now that the storm had blown over.

 

I love this little passage, the honesty in it.

I read an article recently about 'scientists discovering' that 'babies have a moral sense' that 'according to psychologists, they have already developed a sense of moral code - and can tell the difference between good and evil' and demonstrated it by punishing bad puppets and preferring good ones.

And I have to laugh.

People today are 'discovering' things that are within every single person, and always have been, and always will be.

Justice and punishment, good and evil. We know John here is a good boy, we just know it. :)

What distinguishes him as a Saint is the fact that he acknowledges his fault and is  ready for his punishment, even delivering the dreaded cane to his mother. ;D

Its comforting to know just how human the saints were.
They just reacted to normal everyday happenings but done so with the love of God in their hearts  :)

Excerpt from ' Forty Dreams of St. John Bosco'

A Horned Cat


     Two or three nights ago I had a dream.   Would you like to hear it ? You are very dear to me, and so you are always in my dreams.  I seemed to be in a playground with you swarming around me. Each one held a rose, a lily, a violet, or both a rose, a lily, or some other flower.  Suddenly, a huge, ugly cat, black as coal, appeared.  It had horns, eyes as red as live coals, long sharp claws and a disgustingly swollen belly.  This ugly beast edged stealthily close to you and swiftly clawed your flowers to the ground.  When I first spotted this hideous creature, I was terrified, but to my astonishment you seemed totally unconcerned.  Seeing it creep towards me to  knock my flowers down, I immediately turned to dash off, but someone stopped me.  " Don't run away," he said.
" Hasten to tell your boys to raise their arms up high beyond the beast's reach."
     I did as he told me.  The monster tried hard to jump up, but its weight made it fall back clumsily to the ground.
     The lily, my dear sons, symbolizes the beautiful virtue of purity, against which the devil wages endless war.  Woe to those who keep their flower low !  The devil will snatch it from them.  Such are those who pamper their flesh by overeating or eating between meals, who shirk work and idle away their time, who are fond of certain conversations or books and who shun self-denial......For goodness' sake, my children, fight this enemy or it will enslave you.
     These victories are hard to win.  But Holy Scripture tells us the means to use : " This kind (of devil) can be cast out only by prayer and fasting." ( Matt. 17:20 )   Raise your arm, and your flower shall be safe.  Purity is a heavenly virtue.  Whoever wishes to safeguard it must rise himself heavenward.  Prayer is your salvation.  By prayer I mean your morning and night prayers devoutly said, meditation and Holy Mass, frequent Confession and Communion, sermons and exhortations, visits to the Blessed Sacrament, the Rosary and your school duties.   By prayer you will rise heavenward.  Thus you will safeguard the most beautiful of virtues.  Try as much as he wants, the devil will not be able to snatch it from you.
     

Hmmm. I am trying to remember if the cat is a symbol of impurity from way back in Judaism. It might be.

If I could only find a reference!

I'd like to know that. Its also could be the ugly beast Satan with its horns.
Lilies symbolize purity. What could violets and roses symbolize? ???

Roses symbolize martyrdom and violets symbolize humility. ;)

Good show! That's good to know!  ;D

A Human Club   Excerpt from Teresio Bosco's  ' Don Bosco'

A teacher was late once again,  and the usual hullabaloo started.

     Some of the boys wanted to give a beating to Comollo and another boy,  Anthony Candelo.   I told them to leave them in peace, but they would not listen.  Insults began to fly.  I broke in:
     " The next one who utters a foul word will have to reckon with me."
     Some of  the bigger boys made a wall in front of me, while two slaps landed on Comollo's face.  I lost my head. Finding neither a stick nor a chair at hand, I grabbed one of the boys by the shoulders and, using him as a club, I began swinging away at the rest.
     Four fell to the ground and the others scattered shouting.
     At that moment the teacher entered, and seeing arms and legs flying about everywhere in an infernal din, he began shouting and giving blows left and right.
     When the storm abated a bit, he asked what was going on.   Not believing what was told, he asked me to repeat the feat.  He burst out laughing, and forgot about punishing us.
     As soon as Comollo could find me alone, he said to me:  " Your strength frightens me.  God did not give it to you to massacre your companions.  He wants us to forgive and to repay evil with good."

     John listened, and followed Comollo to confession. But turning the other cheek never came easy to him.  He would force himself to it, but it would never become something congenial to him.
He would have to repeat himself very often the words of the dream, " Not by blows but with kindness will you conquer your friends."

St. John Bosco reminds me of St. Francis de Sales in many ways.. but of course there is more than one good reason for that. :D

The book of his dreams is very good (and entertaining) reading!

Did St. Francis de Sales teach him (in dreams or in reality)?

I've noticed that when the Lord can't get through to me during the day He sometimes gets the point across in a dream and I think, Lord am I so unteachable that I need to be sedated before I can learn anything.. You know like in some institutions when a disturbed patient gets out of control and all the nurses hold him down while the Dr administers the medication.   :-X
Does anyone else have dreams of that kind? I know you've mentioned one Brigid.

I've had a couple other super powerful dreams about things having to do with moral matters. Even tho' they were a number of years ago I can still remember them fairly clearly. My stubbornness must be a real frustration to Him!! :-[

I must start doing a clearer evening prayer time. My morning prayer time is set and I make 'arrow' prayers all day long, but no set evening prayer as St. Bosco taught.

I find morning prayer most difficult as I be thinking far ahead of myself and usually get them done haphazardly on the go.. At night though I try and make up for it when I'm much more settled in mind.
I was thinking maybe that's why I have such dreams as I pray shortly before I sleep and be in a calmer disposition than I be during the day.  ???

That could be, although He can, of course, show us dreams no matter when (or if) we pray. Have you had a number of these dreams?

Fairly regularly.. Most I can dismiss quite easily but others stay with me for many days or weeks or even months.
I can call those ones to mind at certain times when having difficulties and draw much encouragement from what I learnt in them.
I don't know how much credibility it is prudent to attach to them but in many cases they have helped me. That's why I be reluctant to dismiss them totally.

Seems to me that if they help you, it would be a shame to dismiss them, whether they are sent from Him or a product of your own inner self. :shrug: You do need to be very discerning, but it seems as if (from your other posts) that isn't a problem for you.

Martin, how I wish you had a sp dir to lay these dreams before..........
I have had a few; and only at certain times in my life... then they completely go away for years.  And, my my...... what reversals in life come of them!  :o

I think it is good not to attach to them........ they are just one way of many I think , that God communicates.

Brigid, I tend to think that God is so within us that even if it comes from the inner self, God is there...... if it leads one towards holiness.   :)

I agree, Bailey, however there is that which comes from God Transcendent (rather than God Immanent) and also that within us that has some concupiscence attached.

Yes, but both are communicated to flawed human beings and can be misinterpreted because of concupiscence or just because of being human; why sp. dir. is a good thing and also discernment in general...... and why I agree with Martin about not becoming attached to any experience, including dreams!   :)   But, that is not to say these things can be a powerful means of an ever-deepening conversion....... oops, there is that deep word again!   :-X

That is so true.. A good reason to take advice as Baily said.. Discernment sometimes can be a gift one gives to another but to self-discern our own experiences might not be the most prudent thing to do as it's hard to look at our own circumstances with any true detachment whereas some one else can look from the outside in so to speak and see a clearer picture of things.
We all have dreams and to take up someones time with them (a Priest for instance) maybe verging on OTT. But if they seem to be leading one in a particular direction, maybe it would be wise to talk them over with someone..
So far it has not been the case where a dream has made me question anything of faith nor lead me in any specific direction . More like confirmation of things already known or a clearer understanding of them.
It may not be the wisest topic for a new thread as there would be limits to what could be discussed on an open forum and visions of it degenerating into a free-for-all if certain elements in the wider world got wind of it ::)
We have a library full of books dealing with this topic but can't find one credible catholic author on the subject therefore I haven't read any of them. The whole subject seems to have been commandeered by the New Agers..

Wise advice from you both Brigid and Baily. I get much SD on this forum.  :thumbsup:

I have the weirdest dreams, so I have stopped paying attention to them.   :sleepie:

To do violence to oneself .  Something I must learn to do. To break away even from something that is so part of my personality .  It could be judging a person before knowing the person well enough or being too impatient. 

It may not be the wisest topic for a new thread as there would be limits to what could be discussed on an open forum and visions of it degenerating into a free-for-all if certain elements in the wider world got wind of it Roll Eyes


agreed  :thumbsup:

Aren't arrow prayers splendid?  :D


May the most holy, most sacred, most adorable, most incomprehensible and ineffable Name of God be forever praised, blessed, loved, adored and glorified in Heaven, on Earth, and under the Earth by all the creatures of God and by the Sacred Heart of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.   Amen.

Jesus said "This Golden Arrow will wound My Heart delightfully, and heal the wounds inflicted by blasphemy."

Our Lord told Sister Marie de Saint-Piere on March 16, 1844,

"Oh, if you only knew what great merit you acquire by saying even once,
'Admirable is the name of God',
in the spirit of reparation of blasphemy!"

I say the Golden Arrow prayer too.(whenever I remember)

Exercise for a happy death

When my feet, benumbed in death, shall warn me that my mortal course is drawing to a close ----- Merciful Jesus, have mercy on me!
When my eyes, dim and troubled at the approach of death, shall fix themselves on thee, my last and only support ----- Merciful Jesus, have mercy on me!
When my ears, soon to be shut forever to the words of men, shall be opened to hear your voice pronouncing the sentence of my irrevocable doom -----Merciful Jesus, have mercy on me!
When I shall have lost the use of my senses;  when the world shall have vanished from my sight;  when my agonizing soul shall feel the sorrow of death ----Merciful Jesus, have mercy on me!

~~~ St. John Bosco

Oh I truly love this one Patricia, and I have never seen it before! I must add it to the site! It's beautiful and moving!

I have another one on death and I will post it in the Guardian angel thread. :)  You know, each one of us is going to go through the last hour ( whether we like to think of it or not )  and it is going to be difficult.  We must begin praying right now while we are in our senses that grace may be given us in our last hour to sustain us and not let us fall into despair.

Patricia that's some food for thought... The power of the Hail Mary comes to mind..
Holy Mary mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death.

Was it St Theresa who revealed to another saint that she would willingly return to earth and suffer every imaginable affliction till the end of time, for the privilege of being permitted to say one more Hail Mary for the extra glory it would merit her in heaven?

I was thinking about this only yesterday and continue today. It is a sobering thought and I am so glad that we have recourse to Our Blessed Lord's mother. Although a mere creature like us, she was elevated to the heights of Her Son to be the channel through which Our Lord delivers graces, as St. Alphonsus taught.

Excerpt from ' Don Bosco '  By Teresio Bosco

Seven Resolution

After Mass unexpectedly, Fr. Cinzano asked John to accompany him to Bardella, where they were celebrating the village feast.

    I went half-heartedly, so as not to hurt him. I felt out of place, a sort of newly dressed puppet.  I had prepared myself so much for the day, and there I was sitting at lunch among people who had gathered to laugh, chatter, eat, drink and enjoy themselves.  What could they have in common with one who, only a few hours before, had donned a habit of sanctity meaning to give himself totally to the Lord ?
     On my way back, the priest asked me why was I so pensive.  I answered him frankly that the ceremony of the morning clashed glaringly with what had followed.  Seeing priests playing the clown among the guests, half-tipsy, had disgusted me.  " Rather than becoming a priest like that, I would prefer to give up my habit immediately. "


     The parish priest saw that the young cleric was right.  He wriggled out of the situation by resorting to cliches.  " That's how the world is made," he said.  " We have to take it as it is.  Evil has to be seen to be avoided."
     John spent the last four days before entering the seminary in silence and recollection, and wrote down seven resolutions that signaled a ' reversal ' in his style of life:

     1. I will not go to dances, plays, and public shows.
     2. I will not perform sleight-of-hand tricks and acrobatics, or go hunting.
     3. I will observe temperance in eating, drinking, and sleeping.
     4. I will read only spiritual literature.
     5. I will shun all thoughts, conversations, words and readings contrary to chastity.
     6. I will make some meditation and spiritual reading every day.
     7. Everyday I will tell stories or share ideas that may do good to others.

     " I went before an image of the Blessed Virgin and made a formal promise to observe these resolutions at any cost of any sacrifice, " he writes. 
     He would not always succeed, because he too was made of flesh and blood like the rest of us.  But he had certainly set himself on a firm course.
     John was due to enter the seminary on 30 October.  The night before, he was packing the things Momma Margaret had put together for him.

     My mother kept looking at me as if she had something to say.  Suddenly she took me aside and said:
     " John, you are wearing the cassock now.  I am as happy as a mother can be.  But remember that it is not so much the habit that makes you a priest, as your virtue.  Should you ever have doubts about your vocation, for God's sake do not dishonour the habit.  Lay it aside at once.   I prefer to have a poor farmer for a son rather than a priest who neglects his duties.  When you were born, I consecrated you to love the Madonna.  When you began to study, I recommended you to love this good Mother of ours. Now I urge you to belong entirely to her. "
     By the time she had finished speaking my mother was moved, and I was crying.
     " Mother, "  I answered, " I thank you for all you have done for me.  I will never forget your words. "
     Early next morning I went to Chieri, and on the evening of that same day I entered the seminary.



     The first thing that met John's eyes in the seminary was a sundial upon a whitewashed wall.  Below the dial was the inscription:  Afflictis lentae, celeres gaudentibus horae-------" Time flies slowly for the sad, but quickly for the cheerful."   It was a good piece of advice for a young man about to begin six long years within those walls.
     In the chapel the seminarians knelt in perfect order.  The organ attacked the majestic notes of the Veni Creator.  The new academic year began with a three day retreat in perfect silence.

How inspiring and moving just reading that Patricia.
And how quickly time passes. In reality all our trials will be over in a blink of an eye when considering eternity.
Dear Lord, help us not to waste this time.  :+:

I

 ???

It seems he didn't think these types of tomfoolery fitting for a priest.

This was the method that Jesus used with the apostles. He put up with their ignorance and roughness and even their infidelity. He treated sinners with a kindness and affection that caused some to be shocked, others to be scandalized and still others to hope for God's mercy. And so he bade us to be gentle and humble of heart.

-- Saint John Bosco

Miraculous cure and conversions after praying to St. Don Bosco relic in India

SHILLONG, (Abp Dominic Jala SDB) – The birthday of Don Bosco, 16 August, Larisuk Khongsit was baptised as Larisa Mary Khongsit. The baptism ceremony took place at the shrine of St. John Bosco, Cherrapunjee, where during the visit of the Relic of Don Bosco, this bed-ridden girl had a miraculous healing after praying to Don Bosco.

Twenty three young people and children from families that have been drawn to the faith through the healing of this 11 year old child also received baptism, at a ceremony presided over by Archbishop Dominic Jala SDB, of the archdiocese of Shillong.

Larisuk Khongsit has been baptised as Larisa Mary Khongsit. She herself decided to have a new name at baptism. The old name meant, nurtured in peace. Her new name means I/we/they have Rejoiced. A fitting name for one who has been touched through the intercession of Don Bosco.

Larisuk is the sixth of nine children from a family that follows the Khasi traditional religion, and lives in a small house in Thiep Twa locality, Cherrapunjee. She had been unable to stand or walk for the past four years.

It all happened in 2007 while playing with her friends she fell and injured her right leg. The wound festered and she spent three months in the Civil Hospital Shillong, 50 km away from her home. This brought little relief and at a certain point the doctors advised amputation to save the then 7 year old child.

It was on 19th June 2011, when the Relic of Don Bosco was in Sohra that she persuaded her mother to take her to the prayer session for healing being held on the grounds of the Parish. She said a simple prayer: Don Bosco please give me healing; I want to go to school again.

Two days later alone in her hut, she suddenly felt the urge to get up and walk and went to fetch her mother who was washing clothes at a nearby stream. Since then the foul smelling puss stopped coming out of the wounds and the rotting flesh slowly came off leaving place for new flesh. On 17th July, a piece of bone just dropped out of the little opening that was a large wound on her leg. Larisa keeps in mind all these important dates and has reason to rejoice and the whole community has reason to rejoice too.

The baptism of Larisa and 22 others was celebrated in the Don Bosco Shrine, Sohra/Cherrapunee on 16th August, 2011, the birth day of Don Bosco, the day the Salesian Congregation is launching a four year journey to the bicentenary of his birth. The older members of the families will probably be baptised around Christmas 2011.

God is great!
Saint John Bosco,
Pray for us!

Excerpt from ' Don Bosco' by Teresio Bosco

" My Mother taught me to pray"

Charity, at Beechi, did not arise from philanthropic or sentimental feelings. It was rooted in the love of God. God reigned in the house of Beechi. Margaret was illiterate, but she knew by heart long passages of sacred history and of the gospel. And she was convinced of the necessity of prayer: one needed to speak to God in order to find the strength to live well and to do good.
     " From my earliest years," writes Don Bosco, " she would teach me the prayers herself. She would make me kneel with my brothers, and all together we would recite the morning and night prayers."
     The nearest priest was far away, and Margaret did not expect him to find the time to teach catechism to her children. Here are some questions and answers from the Compendum of Christian doctrine that Margaret had learnt as a little girl, and that she taught her sons John, Joseph and Anthony:

Q What should a good Christian do as soon as he gets up each morning?
A. The sign of the cross.
Q What should he do after rising and dressing?
A  He should kneel down if he can before some holy image, and renew from the heart the act of faith in the presence of God and say devoutly: I adore you, O my God and I love you will all my heart.
Q What must one do before work?
A  Offer one's work to God.

     One of the first practices of piety John learnt with his family was the recital of the rosary. At that time the rosary used to be the usual evening prayer of all Christians. Repeating the Hail Mary fifty times, the peasants of Beechi spoke to Our Lady, seeing her more as a mother than as a queen. Repeating the same words fifty times was not nonsense to them. They were used to hitting the hoe hundreds of times, and they knew that this was the secret of good harvests. As they fingered the beads, their thoughts went to their children, to their fields, to life and to death.  This is how John began to converse with Our Lady, and he knew that she as looking at him and listening to him.
     
     In his Memoirs, Don Bosco remembers also his first confession. " It was my mother who prepared me. She accompanied me to church. She went to confession before me and introduced me to the confessor. Later she helped me make an act of thanksgiving."

Don Bosco
Our Lady’s Wonder-Worker
by Susan Vennari
 
“It is time to think of the sacraments,” the doctor said to the fifteen-year old Charles, who lay on his bed, dying. The son of a Turin innkeeper, Charles frequented the Oratory of Don Bosco. Thus, he now begged his family to send for Don Bosco. But to his disappointment, Don Bosco was out of town. The parish priest was called to administer the sacraments to the dying lad. After the priest left, however, Charles continued to call for Don Bosco until his death the following day.
When Don Bosco re-turned later that same day and heard the story, he set out at once to see the boy. A house servant greeted him, “You are too late, Father. He died ten hours ago.” Don Bosco responded, “Come now, he is only asleep.” The servant protested that the death certificate had already been signed, but he admitted the priest to see the boy’s grieving family.
Don Bosco entered the death chamber, and as he approached the bed, was assailed by the thought, “Who can say whether his last confession was a good one?” He asked that the other mourners leave the room, while only Charles’ mother and aunt remained. Uttering a silent prayer, he blessed the corpse, then called twice, “Charles, Charles, arise.”
The corpse trembled. Don Bosco tore away the shroud and veil which covered the boy’s body and face. As if awakening from a deep sleep, the boy looked around with confusion at the funeral arrayments. Then he saw Don Bosco and sat up, crying, “Oh, Don Bosco! If only you knew how I waited for you! How I needed you! God has granted me a great favor to see you.”
“Speak, Charles. I am here for you only.”
“Father, I should now be in hell!” the boy began. “Two weeks ago I was with a bad companion who led me into sin and at my last confession, I was afraid to tell everything. Now I’ve just had a horrible dream: I dreamt that I was standing on the edge of a fiery furnace. A band of demons was chasing me. They were about to throw me into the fire when a beautiful Lady appeared and stopped them. ‘Let him alone,’ She told them, ‘He has not yet been judged.’ And at that moment, I heard you calling my name, and I awoke. Oh, Don Bosco, will you please hear my confession?”
The astonished mother and aunt were excused from the room, but when the confession was over, all the mourners at the house were readmitted. “Oh, mamma,” the boy exclaimed, “Don Bosco has saved me from hell!” Charles recounted to all present the same story, always expressing amazement at having awakened to find himself dressed for his own funeral.
During the two hours of rejoicing that followed, only a few mourners noticed that the whole time, Charles’ body was as cold as marble. Finally Don Bosco spoke again. “My dear people, God has been kind to all of us today by showing us the importance of a good confession.” Turning to the boy, he continued, “Charles, now that the gates of Heaven lie wide open for you, would you rather go there or stay here with us?”
A hush fell over the room as Charles looked away, then looked back again, his eyes filled with tears. “Don Bosco, I’d rather go to Heaven.”
Don Bosco nodded a farewell, and the boy lay back on the bed. As the amazed mourners looked on, Charles’ body returned to the immobility of death.

It's such a moving story, and shows how desperate our salvation can be. . .

"Don Bosco, I'd rather go to Heaven."

Charles, pray for us...

Thank you Patricia!  :D


'Accept afflictions with patience. Silently endure cold and heat, wind and rain, fatigue and all the other discomforts that God may deign to send you.'

St. John Bosco

 :winter too:

The excerpts are wonderful Patricia. Are there more? :)

Two Seeds and Four Ears of Corn  Excerpt from Teresio Bosco's  ' Don Bosco'


     Old Joseph, Mr. Moglia's uncle, was returning from the fields one day, hoe on his shoulder and dripping with sweat. It was noon and from the belfry of Moncucco came the sound of the bell. The old man, dead tired, sat on some hay trying to catch his breath.  A little way off he saw John on the hay too, but kneeling. He was reciting the Angelus, as his mother Margaret had taught him to do.
    Joseph, half serious, half joking mumbled:
    " Bravo! The owners wear themselves out from morning to night till they drop dead of exhaustion. But the boy takes it easy and spends his time praying. "
     John replied in the same vein:
     " When it is time to work, Uncle Joe, you know I never shirk. But my mother taught me that when we pray, two seeds yield four ears of corn, and if we do not pray four seeds will give us only two ears of corn. It would do you good to pray too. "
     " Evviva!" laughed the old man, "Now we have  also a preacher in the house."
     In summer, the stable boys had to take the cows out to pasture. They had to watch lest they trespassed into the fields of others, ate wet grass or broke their horns.  Sitting under a tree while the cattle grazed, John found some time for his books too. Louis Moglia did not complain, but was curious:
     " Why do you read so much?"
     " Because I want to become a priest."
     " But don't you know that to study, nowadays you need nine or ten thousand lire?  Where will you find all that money? "
     " If it is God's will, someone will provide."
     Anna too used to come out sometimes into the fields to play. She was the first daughter of the Moglias, and was 8 years old. She saw John intent on his books instead of taking interest in her games, and resented it:
     " Oh, stop all that reading, John."
     " But I want to become a priest, and will have to preach and hear confessions."
     " Yes, a priest!" teased the girl, " You'll be tending cows all your life."
     One day John told her very seriously:
     " Anna, you are pulling my leg now, but one day you'll come to me for confession."
     Anna eventually married and settled in Moriondo. She often narrated this episode to her children. Four or five times a year she used to visit the Oratory at Valdocco, to make her confession to Don Bosco. He always received her like a dear sister.
     
     

John's Mom played a really big role in his spiritual growth.
Quite a woman that Margaret.

It is amazing how one mother can have totally opposite children in terms of temperament and piety. Her older son was mean spirited, ignorant and would beat up Don Bosco, so much so that Bosco had to be sent away from  home.  ??? 

Wow, that goes beyond mere sibling jelousy.
Is there such a thing as being born bad and being born good?
These two boys shared the same environment and the same genetic constitution and yet one was a saint, the other, well, human  ;D
If indeed he was born that way, can we blame him?

It's the truth!

The brothers remind me of Cain and Abel!

His brother did however change his ways later . He stopped bothering John Bosco when he was ready to be settled and married and realized that John Bosco's schooling and  seminary expenses would not be his burden to carry.  :D

That's good to hear!  ;D

That is one brother I would prefer not to have.
Our eldest brother and sister for that matter, took over responsibility for us younger ones as soon as they started earning.
Father had so many children to raise, he could hardly cope. Not only his children that were many enough,( He was a polygamist), but also those of relatives who were less advantaged.

Grigio  Excerpt from Teresio Bosco's Don Bosco


     The frequent attempts on my life prompted me not to go out alone into the city. [ Between the Oratory and the city, in those days, there was a broad stretch of fields covered with bushes and acacias.]
     One dark evening I was returning home all alone, not without some misgivings, when all of a sudden a huge dog came up to me. At first I was frightened, but when I patted him as if I were his master, he soon became friendly and accompanied me as far as the Oratory. This happened several other times. I can say that Grigio [ 'I Gris, as Don Bosco called him in the Piedmontese dialect] did me great service. What I relate here about him is pure truth.

Towards the end of November 1854, one rainy and misty evening I was returning from the city alone. All of a sudden I became aware of two men walking a short distance ahead of me. They fitted their gait to mine, slowing down or hurrying up accordingly.  I tried to turn back, but was too late. Jumping towards me, they silently threw a mantle over my head. I tried to break free and shout, but did not succeed. At that very moment Grigio appeared. Howling, he savaged the face of one, while sinking his fangs into the other.
     
"Call the dog away!" they began to shout.
"Only if you leave me alone," I answered.
"Call him at once!" they pleaded.

     Grigio continued howling like a mad wolf. They took to their heels, while Grigio, walking by my side, accompanied me home.
     Whenever I went out alone, as soon as I entered the bushy patch, Grigio would appear. The boys of the Oratory saw him enter the courtyard many times. On one occasion two boys, frightened, wanted to throw stones at him, but Butzzetti intervened:
     " Leave him alone, he is Don Bosco's dog."
     They began stroking him and brought him to the refectory where I was having my supper with some seminarians and my mother. They all looked at the dog, astonished:
     " Don't be afraid," I said, " he is my Grigio, let him come."
     He went all round the table and stopped by me, wagging his tail happily. I offered him food, but he would not touch it. He rested his head on the table as if he wanted to say good night, and then went to the door and was let out by the boys. I remember that on that particular evening I had been very late, and a friend of mine had reached me home in his carriage.

     Charles Tomatis, who was a student at the Oratory in those years, testified: " He was a formidable looking dog. More than once Mamma Margaret was heard exclaiming: " What a frightful animal!" He looked more wolf than dog, with his long snout, straight ears and grey coat. He was almost a metre in height. "
     Michael Rua saw the dog twice. He testifies that one evening Don Bosco has to go out on business, but found the dog sprawled across the threshold.  He tried to walk over him, to push him aside, but the dog would not budge and would push him back.
     Mamma Margaret, who by now knew the dog, told her son:
     " If you do not want to listen to me, at least listen to the dog: don't go out! "

     On the following day, Don Bosco came to know that a man with a pistol had been waiting for him at a bend of the road.
More than once Don Bosco thought of finding out where the dog was coming from, but he never found an answer. As late as 1872, Baroness Azelia Fassati asked him what he thought of that dog. Don Bosco smiled and answered:
     "To say that it was an angel would make one laugh. But neither can we dismiss him as just an ordinary dog."

Fascinating!
Thanks Patricia  :thumbsup:

Excerpt from Teresio Bosco's 'Don Bosco'

The Societa dell Allegria


     "During my first four classes," writes Don Bosco, " I learned how to stand up to my companions."
     Despite the severe Christian discipline imposed by the school-----pupils had even to show the 'receipt' of their monthly confession---some among the students were very bad. " One was so shameless as to suggest that I steal a valuable object from my landlady."
     At first John kept away from these boys, so as not to end up like a mouse in the paws of a cat.  But soon his success at school enhanced his prestige and placed him in a different position. Why not make use of it for their good?
     " The boys who wanted to lead me astray were among the worst in their studies," he remembers, " They began approaching me for help with their homework."
     He helped them, perhaps too much, even circulating complete translations during exams. At the finals of 1833 he was caught red-handed, and was saved only because of his friendship with the professor, who made him repeat the test.
     " In this way I gained the good will and affection of my companions. They began looking for me during their free time to get help for their studies, then to hear my stories, and finally for no particular reason at all."
     They felt happy together. They formed a kind of gang which John baptized Societa dell Allegria.  He drew up a simple code of conduct for them:
     1. No actions and no words unbecoming of a Christian.
     2. Fulfill one's scholastic and religious duties.
     3. Keep cheerful.
   
     'Cheerfulness' would become one of Don Bosco's 'fixed ideas'.  Dominic Savio, his best pupil, would put it like this. " Here we make sanctity consist in being cheerful. We try to avoid sin which robs our hearts of joy."  For Don Bosco, cheerfulness is the deep satisfaction that is born of the conviction that one is in God's hands, and therefore in good hands. It is a simple word that indicates the great virtue of Christian hope.
     " By 1832 I had become like the captain of a little army of friends."  They played quoit, walked on stilts, jumped and ran. Competition was heated and full of fun. When they were tired, John would entertain them with his magic tricks on a table set on the grass.
     " I would extract scores of coloured balls from a dice box, and dozens of eggs from an empty can. I would gather marbles from the noses of spectators, guess how much money they had in their pockets, and with the touch of a finger reduce to powder coins of any denomination."
     As at Becchi, all the fun used to end with a prayer.
     " On feast days we would go to the Church of St Anthony, where the Jesuit Fathers conducted wonderful catechism classes. I still remember some of the stories they used to tell."

No words unbecoming a Christian.. it seems so far away, but it is so possible for everyone who chooses to do it.

The Devil in the Loft

     One autumn evening Johnny and his mother were at Capriglio, visiting the grandparents. The whole family was gathered around the table for supper. The room was dark, lighted only by a small oil lamp. Suddenly a suspicious noise was heard above their heads----once, twice, and again and again. All looked up, holding their breath.  A short pause and the mysterious noise started once again, followed by a long, muffled drag. The women made the sign of the cross and the children clung to their mothers.
     An old crone began to narrate, guardedly, how in times past they used to hear long cries, groans and terrifying howls from the loft.
" It was the devil. And now he is back," she said, crossing herself.
     John broke the silence.
     " It's only a bird, and not the devil," he said.
     They silenced him as an impertinent fool. Just then a loud thud and a long dragging sound seemed to prove their fears. They all looked up, terrified, at the wooden ceiling of the loft where the farm products and utensils were kept.
     John got up.  " Let's go up and see," he said.
     " You are mad," they exclaimed , " Margaret, stop him! You can't play about with the devil."
     But the boy had already lit a lamp and gotten hold of a stick.
     " Why not wait for the morning? " his mother suggested.
     " Mamma, are you afraid too?"
     " No, I'll come with you."
     They climbed up the wooden ladder. The others also joined them, with lanterns and sticks. John pushed open the door of the loft and held up the lamp.
     " Look there, in the corner," came the muffled cry of a woman.
     They all looked : an upside down grain basket was moving and advancing towards them. John took a step forward.
     " Be careful! It's bewitched !" they shouted.
     John got hold of the basket and pulled it up. A big hen bolted away squawking.
     Everyone started laughing heartily, relieved. The devil was only a hen after all. The basket had been leaning against the wall. The hen, trying to get at the grains caught in the wicker-work, must have brought it down on itself.  Tired and hungry, the poor creature had been trying to get out, pushing the basket here and there, banging against other things in the loft and causing thumps and long dragging sounds on the floor.

 ;D
Well, it could still have been the devil, after all they can take any form. ;D

Ha ha ha!! :rotfl: :rotflblue: :happyroll:

        The Salesian Society, founded by Saint John Bosco, takes its name from Saint Francis de Sales.

                    On April 18, 1869, one year after the construction of the Basilica of Mary Help of Christians in Turin, John     
                      established the Association of Mary Help of Christians.

My Library of Catholic Devotions reports that in 1958 there were more than 1000 Salesian Oratories around the world (founded by St John Bosco).  St John, pray for us.