In the following passage, Don Bosco, founder of the Valdocco Oratory, recounts a dream he had between 29 and 30 May 1867 to his young people, which he narrated on the evening of Holy Trinity Sunday. In a boundless plain, flocks and lambs become an allegory for the world and the boys: lush meadows or arid deserts represent grace and sin; horns and wounds denounce scandal and dishonour; the number “3” foretells three famines – spiritual, moral, material – that threaten those who stray from God. From the account flows the saint’s urgent appeal: to preserve innocence, to return to grace through penance, so that every young person can be clothed in the flowers of purity and partake in the joy promised by the good Shepherd.

On Trinity Sunday, June 16 [1867]—the feast on which twenty-six years before Don Bosco had celebrated his first Mass — the Oratory boys eagerly awaited the narration of the dream he had promised them on the 13th. He took to heart the good of his spiritual flock and always abided by the exhortations of Holy Scripture: “Take good care of your flocks, give careful attention to your herds.” [Prov. 27, 23] He constantly prayed for an intimate knowledge of his little lambs, for the grace of carefully watching over them and providing for their well-being after his death, and for their daily spiritual and bodily nourishment. On that Sunday, therefore, after night prayers, he thus addressed the Oratory community:

The night of the 29th or 30th of May, as I was lying in bed unable to fall asleep, I began thinking of my dear boys. I wish I could dream up something good for them, I said to myself. After mulling over this for a short while, I made up my mind to have a dream. Lo and behold, I fell asleep and found myself in an immense plain packed tight with huge sheep. Divided into flocks, they were grazing on meadows which stretched as far as the eye could see. Wanting to get closer to them and marveling that anyone could own so many flocks, I looked for the shepherd. I soon spotted him leaning on a staff and went up to him.
“Whose flock is this?” I asked him.
He did not answer. I repeated my question.
“Is that any of your business?” he replied.
“That’s no answer!” I countered.
“All right! They belong to their owner!”
“Thanks, but who is he?”
“Don’t be so impatient. We’ll come to that.”
I then followed him for a close look at the flocks and the land. In places the meadows were luscious and dotted with shade trees. Here the sheep were healthy and gorgeous. In other places the plain was barren and forbidding, bristling with thorns and yellow thistles, and with not a blade of grass in sight. Here a large flock was grazing, but it looked miserable. I kept asking questions about the sheep, but my guide ignored them and simply told me, “You need not concern yourself with the sheep. I’ll show you the flock you must shepherd.”
“Who are you?”
“I am the owner. Follow me.”
He took me to another area where I saw thousands of little lambs so weak that they could hardly move. The land was parched and grassless. Short, withered tufts and brush were the only vegetation because the countless lambs had devoured everything else. It was obvious that the soreplagued little things had suffered and were still suffering a great deal. Strangely, all sported thick, long horns like those of old rams, tipped with an appendage in the shape of an S.
Puzzled and perplexed at this sight, I could not believe that such little lambs could have so quickly consumed their feed and could already sport such thick, long horns.
“How is it,” I asked the shepherd, “that these little lambs have such horns?”
“Take a close look,” he replied.
I did and was surprised to see the figure 3 all over their bodies: back, neck, head, snout, ears, legs, hoofs.
“What’s this?” I exclaimed. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ll tell you! This great plain is the world. The lush meadows symbolize the Word of God and His grace. The parched and barren areas are the places where people don’t listen to the Word of God and only aim at pleasing the world. The sheep are the adults; the lambs are the youngsters. For these God has sent Don Bosco. This area of the plain is the Oratory; the lambs are your boys. The parched soil represents the state of sin; horns symbolize dishonor; the letter S stands for scandal. Scandal-giving is the cause of these boys’ perdition. Those with broken horns once gave scandal but do not do so now. The figure 3 stands for their triple punishment— spiritual, moral and material famine: spiritual famine by the lack of spiritual aid they will seek in vain; moral famine by being deprived of God’s Word; material famine by the lack of food. Having devoured all their pasture, the lambs have nothing left but dishonor and the three famines. This scene also shows the present pitiful state of so many boys in 
the world; at the Oratory, at least, even the unworthy have something to eat.”
While I listened and in bewilderment observed everything that was pointed out to me, a new wonder took place. All the lambs reared up on their hind legs, grew tall, and turned into boys. I got closer to see if I knew any of them. All were Oratory boys. Very many I had never before seen, but all claimed to be Oratory pupils. Among those I did not know were also a few who are now here. They never let themselves be seen by Don Bosco, never ask his advice, always dodge him. They are the boys Don Bosco does not know. But the greatest majority by far comprised boys who will come to the Oratory in the future.
As I sadly eyed that multitude, my guide took my hand and said, “Come, I’ll show you something else.” He led me to a far corner of the valley where hillocks and a thick hedge of dense foliage enclosed a vast, luxuriant meadow covered by patches of aromatic herbs of all kinds and dotted with wild flowers and shady groves through which limpid streamlets made their way.
Here I found a multitude of very happy youngsters. Using the meadow’s flowers, they had fashioned or were still making themselves very beautiful robes.
“At least you have these boys to console you,” my guide remarked.
“Who are they?”
“Boys in the state of grace.”
I can truthfully say that never had I seen anything or anyone so beautiful beyond compare! Never could I have imagined such splendor. I will not try to describe what I saw. It defies description. But a more wonderful sight was in store for me. As I was enjoying the vision of those happy boys and noting that many were yet unknown to me, my guide said, “Let’s go. I want to show you something that will bring you greater pleasure and comfort.”
He took me to another meadow carpeted with flowers prettier and sweeter-scented than those I had just seen. It looked like a royal garden. There were but few lads here, yet they were so extraordinarily handsome and brilliant as to outshine and eclipse those I had shortly before admired. Some of those boys are here now; others are still to come.
“These boys have preserved untainted the lily of purity,” my guide explained. “They still wear the spotless robe of innocence.”
I stood entranced. Nearly all wore floral wreaths of indescribable beauty. Each flower was a cluster of thousands of tiny, brightly-hued disk florets of unbelievable charm, each with more than a thousand colors. The boys wore an ankle-length garment of dazzling white, embroidered with flowers like those of the crowns. Sparkling light radiated from these flowers to swathe the boys’ bodies and reflect its comeliness upon them. In turn, the flowers reflected each other’s beauty, those in the crowns mirroring those of the garments, and each throwing back the rays emanating from the others. As the rays of one color hit others of a different color, new rays and new colors were generated in an endless array of splendor. Never could I imagine such a fascinating, bewildering spectacle in heaven itself!
Yet that is not all. The sparkling flowers of the boys’ crowns and dazzling garments were mirrored in the flowers and garments of their companions. Let me add that the brilliant countenance of each boy blended with those of his companions and, in reflection, increased its own intensity a hundredfold, so that those beautiful faces of innocence were clothed in blinding light, each boy mirroring the loveliness of his companions in unspeakable splendor. We call this the “external” glory of the saints. There is no way to describe even faintly each boy’s beauty in that ocean of light! I recognized some boys who are now here at the Oratory. Could they see but one-tenth of their present beauty, I am sure that they would endure fire and torture or the cruelest martyrdom rather than lose it.
Once I could tear myself away from this heavenly vision, I asked my guide, “Are these the only ones who never lost God’s grace?”
“Well,” he replied, “don’t you think that their number is quite large? Furthermore, lads who have lost their baptismal innocence can still follow their companions along the way of penance. Look at that meadow; it still boasts of many flowers. They too can be woven into most beautiful crowns and garments, and the boys can join their companions in the glory of heaven.”
“What other suggestion can you give my boys?” I asked.
would make every sacrifice to preserve it. Tell them to be brave and to practice this fair virtue, which overrides all others in beauty and splendor. The chaste are lilies growing in God’s sight.
I walked toward the boys to mingle among them, but I stumbled against something and awoke to find myself in bed.
My dear sons, are you all innocent? Perhaps a few of you are. To them I say: for heaven’s sake, never lose such a priceless gem! It is a treasure worth God Himself. If you could only have seen how beautiful those boys were with their crowns! I would have given anything in the world to prolong the enjoyment of that spectacle. If I were a painter, I would consider it a rare privilege to be able to paint what I saw.
Could you but know how beautiful innocence is in a lad, you would undergo the most painful ordeal and death itself in order to safeguard that treasure. Though I was profoundly comforted by the number of those who had returned to the state of grace, I still wished that it might have been greater. I was also very much surprised to see that some boys who here appear to be good wore long, thick horns.
Don Bosco ended his narrative with a warm exhortation to those who had lost their innocence to strive earnestly to regain it by penance. Two days later, on June 18, after night prayers, Don Bosco gave more explanations of his dream:
There should be no further need of explaining, but I will repeat some things I have said. The great plain is the world, particularly the places and states of life from which you were called to come here. The area where the lambs graced symbolizes the Oratory, and they are its past, present, and future pupils. The arid, the fertile, and the flowery meadows represent the state of sin, of grace, and of innocence. Horns stand for scandal; broken horns symbolize an end to scandal-giving. The figure 3 on every lamb stands for the three punishments that God will inflict upon those boys: famine of spiritual aid, famine of religious instruction and of God’s Word, and famine of material food. The boys radiating light are those in the state of grace, particularly those still retaining their baptismal innocence. What glory awaits them!
Let us then, dear boys, bravely practice virtue. Those lads in the state of sin must do their utmost to start a new life and, with God’s help, persevere till death. If we cannot all join the innocent ones around the Immaculate Lamb, let us at least follow along after them.
One boy asked me if he was among the innocent ones. I told him no, but that his horns were broken off. He also asked if he had any sores, and I said yes.
“What do you mean?’’ he insisted.
“Don’t worry,” I replied. “They are dried up and will disappear. They are no longer a dishonor. They are like the scars of a soldier who, regardless of his many wounds, was still able to overcome his enemy. They are marks of glory. But, yet, it is more glorious to come away from the combat unscathed. To achieve this is truly admirable!”

In the course of his explanation, Don Bosco also said that before long there would be an epidemic, a famine, and a lack of means to do good to ourselves. He predicted that within three months something would happen. This dream was as impressive and effective as others in the past.
(MB IT VIII 839-845 / MB EN VIII 360-364)

The dreamlike tale that follows, recounted by Don Bosco on the evening of 24 October 1878, is far more than just simple evening entertainment for the young people of the Oratory. Through the delicate image of lambs caught in a violent summer storm, the saintly educator paints a vivid allegory of school holidays: a seemingly carefree time, but one fraught with spiritual dangers. The inviting meadow represents the outside world, the hailstones symbolise temptations, while the protected garden alludes to the safety offered by a life of grace, the sacraments, and the educational community. In this dream, which becomes a catechism, Don Bosco reminds his boys – and us – of the urgency to be vigilant, to seek divine help, and to support each other in order to return to daily life unscathed.

            No information has been left us about the boys’ leaving for their fall vacation and their return, save for a dream which Don Bosco had concerning the effects of vacation. He narrated it after night prayers on October 24 to an audience which became excited the moment he mentioned it.

            I am glad to see that my army of soldiers contra diabolum [against the
devil] has returned-he began. This is Latin, but even Cottino 12 understands it! I have lots of things to tell you since this is the first chance I’ve had to talk to you after your vacation, but let me just tell you a dream. You know that dreams come in sleep and don’t have to be believed. However, just as there is nothing wrong in disbelieving them, sometimes there is no harm in believing them, and they can teach things. So, too, this dream.
            I was at Lanzo during the first spiritual retreat, when I dreamed one night that I was in some unknown region, but near a village which had a fine garden and an adjacent huge meadow. Some friend I was with told me to go into the garden. I did so and there I saw a numerous flock of lambs cavorting and prancing about. The sheepgate leading into the meadow was open, and the lambs scampered out to graze.          
Many, however, remained inside browsing here and there, though the pasture was nowhere as abundant as in the meadow where most of the lambs had gone. “Let me see what those lambs are up to over there,” I said. We went and saw that they were all quietly grazing. Suddenly the sky darkened, flashed with lightning and rolled with thunder.
            “What will happen to all those poor little things if they are caught in the
storm?” I asked. “Let’s get them under a shelter.” We all spread out and tried to herd them together toward the sheepgate, but they kept dodging us and their legs were a lot swifter than ours. Meanwhile, rain began to fall in heavy drops, and soon came a downpour. I could not herd the lambs together. One or two did find their way into the garden, but the rest, the greater number, remained in the meadow. “Well,” I said, “if they won’t come back, all the worse for them! Let’s go.” And we returned to the garden.
            There stood a fountain bearing an inscription in black capitals: FONS
SIGNATUS [Sealed Fountain]. It was covered, but now it opened, and as the water shot high into the air, it sprayed out and formed a rainbow vault over us, something like this arch.
            Meanwhile, the lightning and thunder grew worse, and hailstones began
to pelt us. With the young lambs that had come into the garden, we took shelter beneath that arching vault which shielded us from rain and hail.
            “What’s this all about?” I kept asking my friends. “What will become of
those poor little lambs out there?”
            “You will see!” they answered. “Look at the foreheads of these lambs.”
I did so and read on each the name of an Oratory boy.
            “What does it mean?”
            “You shall see!”
            Too impatient to wait, I decided to dash out and find out what had happened to the lambs outside. I will gather those that were killed and send them back to the Oratory, I thought to myself. As soon as I left the rainbow shelter I was deluged with rain. There, on the ground, were those poor lambs struggling in vain to raise themselves and limp toward the garden. I opened the gate and shouted to them, but they were too weak. Rain and hail kept pelting them so hard that they were truly a pitiful sight, wounded in the head or eyes or legs and other parts of their bodies.
            The storm gradually spent itself.
            “Look at their foreheads,” someone at my side told me.
            I did. Again, each forehead bore the name of an Oratory boy. “Why,” I
cried, “know these boys but they do not look like lambs.”
            “You will see,” was the reply I got. Then he handed me a golden jar
covered with a silver lid.
            “Apply this ointment to the wounds of these lambs,” he told me, “and they will instantly be healed.”
            I called out to them, but none of them stirred.  Again and again I called,
but they would not budge. I stepped toward one of them, but it dragged itself away. “Well, so much the worse for you,” I exclaimed and turned to another, but that too dragged itself away. And so it was with every lamb I tried to reach. Finally, I managed to get close to one lamb whose badly battered eyes were protruding from their sockets. It was a pitiful sight. I touched it, and the lamb, instantly healed, skipped off into the garden.
            On seeing that, many other lambs allowed me to heal them, and they too
scampered back into the garden. Still, many stayed outside, the most battered of them all, but I could not get near them.
            “If they do not want to be healed, they can only blame themselves,” I
said, “but how can I heard them back into the garden?”
            “Leave them alone,” a friend told me. “They will come back.”
            “Let’s wait and see,” I replied and, returning the gold jar, I went back to
the garden. It was completely changed. Over the gate I read the word
“Oratory.” As soon as I stepped in, the lambs that had formerly avoided
me now inched forward and entered the garden stealthily, quickly
squatting anywhere. But even then I couldn’t get close to them. A few
reluctantly let me rub the ointment on them, but it turned into poison on
them and reopened their wounds.
            At this point one of my friends said, “Do you see that banner?”
            I turned around to where he was pointing and saw a large banner in the
air, blazoned with the word “VACATION” in tall letters.
            “Yes,” I answered.
            “ll this happened during vacation,” one of my friends told me, as I
bewailed the destruction, beside myself with grief. “Your boys leave the Oratory honestly intent upon avoiding sin and being good, but no sooner come storm and rain-signs of the devil’s temptations and assaults and the pelting hail than the poor little wretches fall into sin. Some recover through a good confession. Others receive the sacrament carelessly or avoid it altogether. Bear this in mind: never tire of reminding your boys that a vacation is a devastating tempest for their souls.”
            Gazing at those lambs again, I noticed that some were dying of their
wounds. Just as I sought ways to heal them, Father Scappini, who was then getting out of bed next door, made some noise and I too awoke.
            And this was my dream. Even though it is only a dream, it carries a
message which will not harm those who accept it. I can also say that, as I
matched the names of the lambs’ foreheads with the boys being identified, I could agree that they were really behaving as did the lambs of my dream. Be that as it may, however, let us accept God’s mercy and heal our wounds by a good confession during this novena in honour of All Saints. We are all to be determined to wage war against the devil. With God’s help, we shall win and will one day receive the heavenly crown of victory.

            Doubtless this dream effectively helped give the new school year a good start. Everything was moving along so smoothly during the novena of the Immaculate Conception that Don Bosco remarked with warm satisfaction, “The boys have already reached a point which they would have barely attained in February in past years. “On the feast of the Immaculate Conception they once more witnessed the inspiring farewell ceremony of the fourth missionary
expedition.
(MB XIII 761-764 / BM XIII 584-587)

In a dream recounted by Don Bosco in the Chronicle of the Oratory, dated May 30th, Marian devotion transforms into a vivid, symbolic judgment of the Oratory’s youth: a procession of boys comes forward, each bearing a gift, before an altar magnificently adorned for the Virgin. An angel, the community’s guardian, accepts or rejects these offerings, unveiling their moral meaning—fragrant or withered flowers, thorns symbolizing disobedience, animals embodying grave vices such as impurity, theft, and scandal. At the heart of this vision resonates Don Bosco’s educational message: humility, obedience, and chastity are the three pillars for earning Mary’s crown of roses.

Don Bosco found consolation in acts of devotion to Mary, Help of Christians, whom the whole Oratory honored particularly in the month of May. Of his “Good Nights” the chronicle records but one-a most precious one-which he gave on the 30th:

30th May

            I dreamed that you boys were heading in procession toward a lofty, richly decorated altar of Our Lady. You were all singing the same hymns to Her but not in the same way: many sang beautifully, others rather poorly and some totally out of tune. I saw too that some kept silent, strayed from the ranks, yawned or kept disturbing others.
Everyone carried gifts, mostly flowers, to Our Lady. The bouquets differed in size and kind. There were bouquets of roses, carnations, violets and so on. Some boys carried very odd presents, such as pigs’ heads, cats, slimy toads, rabbits, lambs and so on. A handsome youth stood by the altar. A close look would show that he had wings. He may have been the Oratory’s guardian angel. As you boys presented your gifts, he took each and placed it on the altar.
The first to reach the altar offered gorgeous bouquets which the angel silently placed on it. From other bouquets, instead, he had to remove decayed or scentless flowers, such as dahlias, camelias and the like, because Mary is not satisfied with mere looks. Some bouquets even had thorns and nails which, of course, were promptly plucked out and thrown away.
When a boy carrying a pig’s head came up, the angel said to him, “How dare you offer this to Our Lady? Don’t you know that this animal symbolizes the ugly vice of impurity? Mary Most Pure cannot tolerate such a sin. Step aside. You are not worthy to stand in Her presence.”
To those who offered a cat the angel said: “Don’t you know better? A cat represents theft, and you dare present it to Mary? Those who take what does not belong to them, those who steal food from the house, tear their clothes out of spite or waste their parents’ money by not studying as they ought, are nothing but thieves!” These too the angel ordered to withdraw.
He was equally indignant with boys offering toads. “Toads symbolize the shameful sin of scandal, and dare you offer them to Our Lady? Step aside.
Join the unworthy ones.” These boys too shamefully withdrew.
Some lads came up with a knife stuck in their hearts, a symbol of sacrilege. “Don’t you realize that there is death in your soul?” the angel asked them. “If it weren’t for God’s mercy, you would be lost forever. For heaven’s sake, have that knife removed from your heart!”
Eventually the rest of the boys reached the altar and presented their gifts-lambs, rabbits, fish, nuts, grapes and so on. The angel took them and placed them before Our Lady. Then he lined up all the boys whose gifts had been accepted in front of the altar. I noticed to my deep regret that those who had been made to step aside were much more numerous than I had thought.
Two other angels now appeared at each side of the altar carrying ornate baskets filled with gorgeous, exceedingly beautiful crowns of roses. They were not earthly roses, but heaven-grown, symbolizing immortality. With these the guardian angel crowned all the boys ranged before Our Lady’s altar. I noticed among them many whom I had never seen before. Another remarkable thing is this: some of the most beautiful crowns went to boys who were so ugly as to be almost repulsive. Obviously, the virtue of holy purity which they eminently possessed amply made up for their unattractive appearance. Many other boys possessed this virtue too, though not to the same degree. Youngsters excelling in obedience, humility, or love of God were also crowned according to their deserts.
The angel then addressed all the boys as follows: “It was Our Lady’s wish that you should be crowned today with these beautiful roses. See to it that they may never be taken from you. Humility, obedience and chastity will safeguard them for you. With these three virtues you will always find favor with Mary and one day receive a crown infinitely more beautiful than that you wear today.”
All of you then sang the first stanza of the Ave Maris Stella. Afterward you turned around and filed away as you had come, singing the hymn Lodate Maria so full-heartedly that I was really amazed. I followed you for a while; then I went back to take a look at the boys whom the angel had pushed aside, but they were no longer there.
My dear children, I know who was crowned and who was turned down.
The latter I will warn privately so that they may strive to bring gifts pleasing to Our Lady.

Now let me make a few observations:

1. All you were carrying a variety of flowers, but unfailingly every bouquet had its share of thorns-some more, some less. After much thinking I came to the conclusion that these thorns symbolized acts of disobedience, such as keeping money instead of depositing it with Father Prefect, asking leave to go to one place and then going to another, being late to school, eating on the sly, going to other boys’ dormitories although knowing that this is always strictly forbidden, lingering in bed after rising time, neglecting prescribed practices of piety, talking during times of silence, buying books and not submitting them for approval, sending or receiving letters on the sneak, and buying and selling things among yourselves. This is what the thorns stand for.
“Is it a sin to break the house rules?” many will ask.
After seriously considering this question, my answer is a firm “yes.” I will not say whether it is mortal or venial. Circumstances will determine that, but it certainly is a sin.
Some might counter that the Ten Commandments say nothing about obeying house rules. Well, the Fourth Commandment says: “Honor thy father and thy mother.” Do you know what “father” and “mother” stand for? Not only parents, but also those who take their place. Besides, doesn’t Holy Scripture say: “… Obey your superiors”? [Heb. 13, 17] If you must obey them, it follows that they have the power to command. This is why we have rules, and these must be obeyed.

2. Some bouquets had nails among the flowers, the nails which crucified Jesus. How could that be? As usual, one starts with little things and goes on to more serious ones …. He allows himself undue liberties and falls into mortal sin. This is how nails managed to find their way into those bouquets, how they again crucified Jesus, as St. Paul says: “…. crucifying again … the Son of God.” [Heb. 6, 6]

3. Many bouquets contained rotten or scentless flowers, symbols of good works done in the state of mortal sin – and therefore unmeritorious – or from human motives such as ambition, or solely to please teachers and superiors. That’s why the angel, after scolding those boys for daring to offer such things to Our Lady, sent them back to trim their bouquets. Only after they had done this did the angel accept them and place them on the altar. In returning to the altar, these boys did not follow any order, but went up to the angel as soon as they had trimmed their bouquets and then joined those to be crowned.
In this dream I saw both your past and your future. I have already spoken of it to many of you. I shall likewise tell the rest. Meanwhile, my children, see to it that the Blessed Virgin may always receive gifts from you which She will not have to refuse.
(BM VIII, 73-76)

Opening photo: Carlo Acutis during a visit to the Marian Shrine of Fátima.

In this dream of Don Bosco, a heavenly garden appears: a green slope, festooned trees, and, in the center, an immense, snow-white carpet adorned with biblical inscriptions praising purity. On its edge sit two twelve-year-old girls, dressed in white with red sashes and floral crowns: they personify Innocence and Penance. With gentle voices, they discuss the value of baptismal innocence, the dangers that threaten it, and the sacrifices needed to preserve it: prayer, mortification, obedience, purity of the senses.

            He seemed to see before him an enchanting and immense green slope, gently inclined and leveled. At the foot of it, a meadow formed that was equivalent to a low step from which one could jump off onto the little path where Don Bosco was standing. All around it looked like an earthly paradise, magnificently illuminated by a light that was brighter and purer even than that of the sun. It was covered all around by green vegetation, star-spangled by a thousand different kinds of flowers, and shaded by an infinite number of trees, whose branches intertwined, stretching out like immense festoons.
            In the center of the garden and stretching to its further border was a carpet of magic candor, so dazzling that the eyes were blinded. It was several miles wide, as magnificent as royal pomp. Several inscriptions in golden letters ornamented the border encircling it. On one side it read: Beati immaculati in via, qui ambulant in lege Domini; on another side: Non privabit bonis eos, qui ambulant in innocentia; on the third side: Non confundentur in tempore malo, in diebus famis saturabuntur; on the fourth: Novit Dominus dies immaculatorum et haereditas eorum in aeterum erit.
            At the four corners of the area surrounding a magnificent rose bed were four more inscriptions: Cum simplicibus sermocinatio eius; Proteget gradientes simpliciter; Qui ambulant simpliciter, ambulant confidenter; Voluntas eius in iis, qui simpliciter ambulant.
            In the middle of this area was the last inscription: Qui ambulant simpliciter, salvus erit.
In the middle of the slope and on the upper border of this carpet, there was a pure white streamer with gold letters that read: Fili mi, tu semper mecum es et omnia mea tua sunt.
            Though Don Bosco was enchanted by the garden, his attention was drawn to two lovely, little maidens who were about twelve years old and who were sitting at the edge of the carpet where the slope formed a low step. Their whole gracious mien emanated a heavenly modesty. One did not only perceive the innocent simplicity of a dove in their eyes that gazed steadily upward, but also a most pure, fervent love and a joyful, heavenly happiness. Their broad, serene brows seemed to harbor candor and sincerity, while a sweet, enchanting smile hovered on their lips. Their features denoted tender, ardent hearts, and the graceful movements of their bodies conferred a dignity and nobility on them that contrasted oddly with their youth.
            A pure, white garment fell to their feet, and no stain, wrinkle, or even speck of dust was apparent on it. Around their waists were fiery red sashes, bordered with gold and adorned by what looked like a ribbon embroidered with lilies, violets and roses. They wore a similar ribbon like a necklace that was made of the same flowers, though somewhat different in design. There were little wreaths of white daisies at their wrists, like bracelets, and all of these things and flowers were so beautiful in form and color that it would have been impossible to describe them. Even the most precious jewels of this world mounted with the most exquisite work-manship would have looked like mud in contrast.
            Their pure, white shoes were edged with a white ribbon interwoven with gold, handsomely tied into a center bow. They were laced with a narrow white cord, in which small golden threads glinted.
            Their long hair, forming a shadow in its thickness and falling in curled ringlets over their shoulders, was covered by a crown.
            They were talking with each other. They took turns to speak, asking each other questions and issuing exclamations. They would both sit, or one sat while the other stood or they would stroll together, but they never stepped off the candid carpet or touched either the grass or the flowers. Don Bosco stood there like a spectator in his dream, without speaking to the little maidens, and they did not seem to be aware of his presence. One of them addressed the other in a harmonious voice: “What is innocence? The happy condition of sanctifying grace preserved by constant, scrupulous observance of the Divine Commandments.”
            The other girl answered in a voice that was no less sweet: “The purity of innocence preserved is the source and origin of all knowledge and virtue.”
            The first maiden: “How splendid, how glorious, how magnificent is the virtue to live honestly among those who are evil, to retain the candor of innocence and purity of one’s habits amid those who are evil.”
            The other maiden rose to her feet and standing beside her companion said, “Blessed is the boy who does not heed the council of the godless, who does not walk in the way of the sinner, but who delights in the Commandments of the Lord, contemplating them day and night. He shall be like a tree planted beside the river were the water of God’s grace flows, and which shall, in its good time, yield the abundant fruit of good works. The leaves of his holy intentions and his merit shall not fall before the blowing of the wind, and all that he shall do shall be successful. In all circumstances of his life, he shall work to enhance his reward.”
            So saying, she pointed to the trees laden with beautiful, fragrant fruits in the garden around them, while sparkling little brooks ran between two flowering banks or fell in tiny waterfalls, forming small lakes, bathing the trunks of the trees with a murmur that sounded like the mysterious strains of distant music.
            The first maiden answered, “He is like a lily amid the thorns which God shall pluck in His garden to wear as an ornament over His heart. He may say to his Lord, ‘My Beloved is mine, and I am His, who feeds among the lilies.’”
            So saying, she pointed to a great cluster of beautiful lilies that lifted their candid heads amid the grass and other flowers, and also to a tall hedge in the distance that surrounded the gardens with greenery. This hedge was thick with thorns and beyond it one could perceive horrible monsters moving around like shadows, trying to get inside the garden, though the thorns on the hedge barred their way.
             “It is true! How much truth there is in your words!” the other girl said. “Blessed is the boy who shall be found without sin! But who can he be? How are we to praise him? For he has done wondrous things in his life. He was found to be perfect and shall have glory in eternity. He could sin and did not; he could have done wrong, but did not. For this the Lord has prepared his reward, and his good deeds shall be celebrated by all the Congregations of Saints.”
             “And what great glory God has in store for them here on earth! He will summon them, giving them a place in His Sanctuary, He will make them ministers of His Mysteries, and shall confer on them an eternal name which shall never perish,” the first said.
            The second rose to her feet now and exclaimed, “Who could describe the beauty of the innocent? The soul is magnificently arrayed like one of us, adorned with the white stole of Holy Baptism. His neck and arms are ablaze with divine jewels, and on his finger gleams the ring of an alliance with God. His soul moves lightly along its journey toward eternity. Before him there is a path spangled with stars. The innocent is a living tabernacle of the Holy Spirit. The blood of Jesus runs through his veins, staining crimson his cheeks and lips, and the Most Holy Trinity on his immaculate heart sheds torrents of light all around it, which clothes it in the brightness of the sun. From on high, clouds of celestial flowers fill the air in a downpour of rain. All around him, sweet melodies are heard and the angels echo the prayer of his soul. The Most Holy Mary is at his side, ready to defend him. Heaven stands open for him. The infinite legions of the saints and of the Blessed Spirits stand ranged before him, inviting him to advance by waving their palms. In the inaccessible radiance of His Throne of Glory, God lifts His Right Hand to indicate the place prepared for him, while in His Left, He holds the magnificent crown with which he shall be crowned forever. The innocent is the desire, the joy and the pride of Paradise. An ineffable joy is engraved on his countenance. He is the Son of God. God is his Father. Paradise is his heritage. He is constantly with God. He sees Him, loves Him, serves Him, possesses Him, enjoys Him, and possesses a range of heavenly delights. He is in possession of all treasures, all graces, all secrets, all gifts, all perfections, and the whole of God himself.
             “That is why the innocence of saints, and especially of the martyrs in the old and New Testament, is depicted so gloriously. Oh, innocence! How beautiful you are! Tempted, you grow in perfection; humiliated, you soar even higher; embattled, you emerge triumphant; when slain, you soar toward your crown. You are free in slavery, serene and certain in peril, happy when in chains. The mighty bow before you, princes hail you, the great do seek you. The pious obey you, the evil envy you, your rivals emulate you, and your enemies succumb before you. Always shall you be victorious, even when men shall condemn you unjustly!”
            The two little maidens were silent for a moment, as if to take a breath after this impassioned rhapsody. Then, they took each other by the hand, exchanged glances, and spoke in turn.
             “Oh, if only the young knew how precious is the treasure of innocence, how jealously would they defend the stole of Holy Baptism from the beginning of their days! But alas, they do not reflect, and do not know what it means to soil it. Innocence is a most precious nectar.”
             “But it is contained in a jar of fragile clay, and unless one carries it with great care, it is easily broken.”
             “Innocence is a most precious jewel.”
             “But if one is unaware of its value, it can be lost and will easily be transformed into base metal.”
             “Innocence is a golden mirror which reflects the likeness of God.”
             “Yet a breath of humid air is enough to make it rusty, and one must needs keep it wrapped in a veil.”
             “Innocence is a lily.”
             “Yet a mere touch from a rough hand will wither it.”
             “Innocence is a candid garment. Omni tempore sint vestimenta tua candida [May your garment be always white].”
             “Yet a single blemish will defile it, so one must proceed with great caution.”
             “Innocence and integrity are violated if soiled by only one stain, and will lose the treasure of grace.”
             “Only one mortal sin is enough.”
             “And once lost, it is lost forever.”
             “What a tragedy it is that so many lose their innocence in one single day! When a boy falls victim to sin, Paradise closes its doors; the Blessed Virgin and his Guardian Angel disappear; music is silent; light fades away. God will no longer be in his heart; the star-spangled path he was following vanishes; he falls and will linger like an island in the midst of the sea, in one single place; a sea of fire will extend to the furthest horizon of eternity, falling down into the abyss of chaos. Over his head in the darkly menacing sky, flash the lightning flares of divine justice. Satan has hastened to join him, and loads him now with chains; he places a foot upon his neck, and raising his horrible countenance toward the sky, he shouts, ‘I have won. Your son is now my slave. He is no longer yours. Joy is over for him.’ If in His Justice God then removes from beneath him that one little place where he is standing, he will be lost forever.”
             “Yet he may rise again! The Mercy of God is infinite! A good confession will restore grace to him and his title as the son of God.”
             “But not his innocence! And what consequences will linger on in him after that initial sin! He is now aware of the sin of which he had no knowledge previously; terrible will be the evil inclinations he will experience; he will feel the terrible debt he has contracted toward Divine Justice and will find that he is now weaker in his spiritual battles. He will feel that which he had never felt before: shame, sadness, remorse.”
             “To think that previously it was said of him, ‘Let the little children come unto Me. They will be like God’s Angels in Heaven. My Son, give me your heart.’”
             “Ah, those wretches who are guilty for the loss of innocence in a child commit a hideous crime. Jesus said, ‘Whoever shall give scandal to any of these little ones who believe in Me, it would have been better if he had put a millstone around his neck, and drown in the depths of the sea. Woe unto the world because of scandal. It is not possible that scandal be prevented, but woe unto him who is guilty of it. Beware, lest you despise any of these little ones, for I tell you that their angels in Heaven see constantly the face of My Father Who is in Heaven and Who demands vengeance.’”
             “Wretches, indeed, are they! But no less wretched are those who permit them to steal their innocence.”
            Then they both began to stroll up and down, talking about how innocence could be preserved.
            One of them said, “Boys make a great mistake when they think that only those who have sinned should do penance. Penance is necessary so that innocence may be retained. Had St. Aloysius not done penance, he would, beyond any doubt, have committed mortal sins. This should be preached, driven home, and taught constantly to the young. How many more there would be who would retain their innocence, whereas now there are so few.”
             “The Apostle says it. We should be carrying within our own body the mortification of Jesus Christ everywhere, so that the life of Jesus may manifest in our body.”
             “Jesus, who was holy, immaculate and innocent lived His Life in privation and suffering.”
             “So did the Blessed Virgin Mary and all the saints.”
             “They did this to give an example to youth. St. Paul says, ‘If you live by the flesh, you shall die; but if you slay the action of the flesh with the spirit, you shall live.”
             “So innocence can only be retained through penance!”
             “Yet, many wish to retain their innocence while living in freedom!”
             “Fools! Is it not written that he was taken away, so that malice should not destroy his spirit, and temptation might not lead his soul into sin? For the lure of vanity obscures what is good, and the vortex of lust perverts the innocent soul. The innocent, therefore, has two enemies: the evil maxims and bad words of the wicked and concupiscence. Does not the Lord say that death at an early age is the reward of the innocent because it sets him free from battle? ‘Because he was pleasing to God, He was loved, and because he lived among sinners, he snatched him away.’ ‘He lived but briefly, and had a great career.’ ‘For his soul was loved by God, and for this He hastened to pluck him forth out of iniquity.’ ‘He was taken away so that malice might
not destroy his spirit, and temptation might not lead his soul into sin.’”
             “Fortunate arc the young who embrace the cross of penance and who repeat with Job (27:5) with a steadfast resolution ‘Donec deficiam, non recedam ab innocentia mea [I will maintain my innocence to my dying day].’”
             “Hence, mortification is needed to overcome the boredom they experience in prayer.”
             “It is also written: Psallam et intelligam in via immaculata (Psalm 100:2). Quando venies ad me? Petite et accipietis. Pater noster! [All along the immaculate path I will sing and I will understand. When will you come to me and ask and you shall receive Our Father!]”
             “Mortification of the mind by accepting humiliation, by obedience to one’s superiors and to the rules.”
             “It is likewise written: Si mei non fuerint dominati, tunc immaculatus ero et emendabor a delicto maximo [Never let (pride) dominate me, then I shall be above reproach and free from grave sin] (Psalm 19:13). This is pride. God resists against the proud and gives grace to the humble. He who humbles himself shall be exalted, and he who exalts himself shall be humbled. Obey your superiors.”
             “Mortification always in telling the truth, in acknowledging one’s faults and whatever dangers one may find himself in. Then, one will always be well advised, especially by his confessor.”
             “Pro anima tua ne confundaris dicere verum, for your soul be not ashamed to tell the truth (Ecclesiasticus 4:24). For there is a kind of blush that calls for sin, and another kind of blush which calls for glory and grace.”
             “Mortification of the heart by restraining its ill-advised impulses, by loving everyone for God’s sake, and resolutely turning away from anyone who we realize is tempting our innocence.”
             “Jesus said it. If your hand or your foot give scandal, cup it off and cast it from thee; it is better that you go through life without a foot or without a hand than to be cast into eternal fire with both your hands and your feet. If your eye offends you, pluck it out and cast it away from you; it is better that you should enter eternity with but one eye only than to be cast with both your eyes into the flames of Hell.”
             “Mortification in courageously and frankly enduring the scorn of human respect. Exacuerunt, ut gladium, linguas suas: intenderunt arcum, rem amaram, ut sagittent in occultis immaculatum [They sharpened their tongues like swords shooting bitter words like arrows shooting them at the innocent from cover](Psalm 64:3).”
             “They will overcome the evil person who scoffs, fearing that his superiors may find him out, at the thought of the terrible words of Jesus: ‘The son of man shall be ashamed of the one who will be ashamed of him and his words, when He shall come in all His majesty, and the majesty of His Father and of the Holy Angels.’”
             “Mortification of the eyes, in looking at things, and people, in reading, and by avoiding all bad or unsuitable books.”
             “One essential thing. I have made a pact with my eyes never to even think of a virgin. And in the psalms: Turn away your eyes, so that they may not look on vanity.”
             “Mortification of the ears: never listen to evil conversations or mawkish or godless speech.”
             “In Ecclesiasticus 28:28, we read: Sepi aures tuas spinis, linguam nequam noli audire [Fence your ears with a quick thorn hedge never heed a wicked tongue].”
             “Mortification is speech: do not let curiosity overcome you.”
             “It is likewise written: Put a door and a lock upon you lips. Take heed, lest you slip with your tongue and fall in the sight of you enemies who lie in wait for you, and your fall will be incurable unto death (Ecclesiasticus, ib).”
             “Mortification of the palate: Do not eat or drink too much.”
             “Too much eating and drinking brought the flood upon the world, and fire rained down over Sodom and Gomorrah, and a thousand other punishments came over the Jewish people.”
             “In short, mortification by bearing all that happens to us during the course of the day, the cold and heat, without seeking our own comforts. Mortify your members that are on earth (Colossians 3:5).”
             “Remember that Jesus told us: Si quis vult post me venire, abneget semetipsum et tollat crucem suam quotidie et sequatur me [If anyone wants to come after Me, let him deny himself, carry his cross daily and follow Me] (Luke 9:23).”
             “With his provident hand, God surrounds the innocent with crosses and thorns, even as He did with Job, Joseph, Tobias and other saints. Quia acceptus eras Deo, necesse fuit, ut tentatio probaret te [Because you were acceptable to God, it was necessary that you be tested].”
             “The path of the innocent has its trials and sacrifices, but it finds strength in Holy Communion, for he who goes often to Communion will have life everlasting: he lives in Jesus and Jesus lives in him. He lives of the very life of Jesus, and will he be raised by Him on the Last Day. This is the wheat of the elect, the vine that buds with virgins. Parasti in conspectu meo mensam adversus eos, qui tribulant me. Cadent a latere tuo mille et decem millia a dextris truis, ad te autem non appropinquabunt [You set up a dining table right in front of those who give me trouble, but they will fall thousands and ten thousands by your sides and they shall not get close to you].”
             “And the most sweet Virgin by Him beloved is His Mother. Ego mater pulchrae. dilectionis et timoris et agnitionis et sanctae spei. In me gratia omnis (to know) viae et veritatis; in me omnis spes vitae et virtutis. Ego diligentes me diligo. Qui elucidant me, vitam aeternam habebunt Terribilis, ut castrorum acies ordinata. [I am the mother of beautiful love and fear and knowledge. In me you will come to know the right way and the ways to truth; all hope to live and be virtuous is found in me. I love those who love me. Those who make me known will have eternal life. I am terrible just like an army set for war].”
            The two little maidens then turned and slowly climbed the slope. One of them exclaimed, “The salvation of the just stems from the Lord. He is their protector in times of tribulation. The Lord shall help them and shall set them free. He seizes them from the hands of sinners and shall save them because they put their hopes in Him (Psalm 57).”
            The other went on: “God girdled me with strength and made the road I was to follow immaculate.”
            When the two of them came to the center of the magnificent carpet, they turned around.
             “Yes!” one of them cried out. “Innocence, when crowned by penance, is the queen of all virtue.”
            The other also exclaimed, “How beautiful and splendid is a chaste generation! Its memory is immortal in the eyes of God and man. Men imitate it when it is present, and long for it when it is gone to Heaven, crowned triumphantly in eternity, having wrested their reward for their chaste battles. What a triumph! What rejoicing! How glorious a thing to present God with the immaculate stole of one’s Holy Baptism after so many battles waged, amid the applause, the canticles, the splendor of the heavenly hosts!”
            As they were thus speaking of the rewards awaiting innocence retained through penance, Don Bosco saw hosts of angels appear, who descended on that candid carpet. They joined the two young maidens, who took their place in the middle of them all. There was a vast multitude of them, and they sang, “Benedictus Deus et Pater Domini Nostri Iesu Christi, qui benedixit nos in ipso in omni benedictione spirituali in coelestibus in Christo; qui elegit nos in ipso ante mundi constitutionem, ut essemus sancti et immaculati in conspectu eius in charitate et praedestinavit nos in adoptionem per Iesum Christum (Eph. 1:4) [Blessed be God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ who has blessed us with all the spiritual blessings of Heaven in Christ. Before the world was made, He chose us, chose us in Christ to be holy and spotless and live through love in His presence, determining that we should become his adopted sons, through Jesus Christ].”
            The two maidens then intoned a magnificent hymn, with such words and notes that only the angels nearer to the center were able to follow. The others sang too, but Don Bosco could not hear their voices, although they made gestures and moved their lips as if singing.
            The two maidens sang, “Me propter innocentiam suscepisti et confirmasti me in conspectu tuo in aeternum. Benedictus Dominus Deus a saeculo et usque in saeculum. Fiat! Fiat! [You have made me welcome because I was innocent, you have made me steadfast in Your presence forever. May the Lord God be ever praised, forever and ever. So be it! So be it!”
            Now, other hosts of angels came to join the first ones, and the others after them. They were arrayed in many colors, with ornaments differing one from the other, and very different from those worn by the two little maidens. Yet, the richness and splendor of it was magnificent. They were each so handsome that the human mind could never in any way conceive even a remote idea of what they were like. Nothing could describe this scene, though if one adds words to words, one may perhaps render some confused idea of it.
            When the two girls had completed their canticle, they could all be heard singing together in one immense, harmonious canticle, the likes of which has never before been heard nor will ever be heard here on earth.
            They sang, “Ei, qui potens est vos conservare sine peccato et constituere ante conspectum gloriae suae immaculatos in exultatione, in adventu Domini nostri Iesu Christi; Soli Deo Salvatori nostro, per Iesum Christum Dominum nostrum, gloria et magnificentia, imperium et potestas ante omne saeculum, et nunc et in omnia saecula saeculorum. Amen [To him, who is able to keep you without sin and has allowed you to stand immaculate right in front of His glory, when our Lord Jesus will appear, to him alone, who is our Savior Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory and splendor, power and rule before all ages for now and for all ages. Amen].”
            As they were singing, ever more angels came to join them, and when the canticle was over, they all soared slowly aloft, one after the other, and disappeared together with the entire vision.
            Then, Don Bosco woke up.

(MB IT XVII, 722-730 / MB EN XVII,688-697)

In March 1854 on a feast day, after evening prayer Don Bosco gathered all the pupils in the back sacristy saying he wanted to tell them about a dream. Among others present were young Cagliero, Turchi, Anfossi, clerics Reviglio and Buzzetti. Our narration is based on their accounts. All of them believed that Don Bosco’s dreams were true supernatural revelations. Don Bosco spoke as follows:

I was with you in the playground, delighted to see all of you so lively and happy, jumping, shouting, and running about. Suddenly, however, one of you came out of the building wearing some sort of top hat and began strolling around in the playground. The transparent headgear was lit from the inside and revealed the picture of a moon with the number ‘22’ in its center. Amazed, I was about to walk up to the boy and tell him to cut off that nonsense when suddenly all of you stopped playing as if the bell had rung and lined up as usual on the porch by classes. It was now semi-dark. While all of you looked frightened, nearly a dozen of you were deathly pale. I passed in front of these pale ones for a closer look, and among them I saw the boy with the top hat. He was even paler than the rest, and a black drape-like those used at funerals was hanging from his shoulders. I was about to ask him what his strange garb meant when a grave and dignified-looking stranger stopped me and said: “Wait! Know that this boy has only twenty-two moons to live. Before these are over, he will die. Take care of him and prepare him!” I wanted some explanation of this message and his sudden appearance, but the stranger had already vanished. My dear boys, I know who that lad is. He is right here among you.

Terror gripped all of the boys. This was the very first time that Don Bosco had ever predicted the death of anyone in the house publicly and so solemnly. He could not help noticing their fear, and so he continued: “Don’t be afraid! True, I know that boy, and he is here now, but this is a dream, as I have said, and you know that dreams are only dreams. One thing is certain, though-we must always be prepared, just as Our Divine Savior has warned us in the Gospel, and never commit sin. If we follow this rule, death will not frighten us. Put your conscience in order, therefore, and resolve not to offend God anymore. On my part, I shall look after the boy of the twenty-two moons. These moons signify twenty-two months. I hope that he will die a good death.”

Understandably, this announcement frightened the boys, but in the long run it did them good because their attention was focused on death as they kept themselves in God’s grace and counted the months. Now and then when Don Bosco would ask: “How many more moons?” they would reply “Twenty” or “Eighteen2″ or “Fifteen” and so on. Sometimes those who paid the closest attention to
everything he said would tell him that so many moons had already gone by, attempting at the same time to make their own predictions or guesses, but Don Bosco would say nothing. When [John Baptist] Piano entered the Oratory as a young student in November, 1854, he heard his companions say that nine moons had already passed. He then found out about Don Bosco’s prediction and he too began keeping track of the moons.

The year 1854 went by, and so did many months of 1855, and then came October, the twentieth month. At this time the cleric [John] Cagliero was in charge of three adjoining rooms in the old Pinardi house. They served as a dormitory for several boys, including Secundus Gurgo a handsome, healthy, seventeen-year-old from Pettinengo (Biella) who seemed destined to live to a ripe old age. His father had asked Don Bosco to take him in as a boarder. The youth, an excellent pianist and organist, studied music assiduously and earned good money by giving lessons in town. From time to time during the course of the year Don Bosco had asked Cagliero about the conduct of his charges with more than routine interest. In October he called him and asked: “Where do you sleep?”

“In the last room,” Cagliero answered. “From there I can keep an eye on the other two.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if you moved your bed into the middle room?”

“If you say so, but I think I’d better tell you that it is rather damp because one of its walls is actually the wall of the church tower, which is still very porous. Winter is coming and I might get sick. Besides, I can watch all the boys in the dormitory quite well from where I am!”

“I know you can,” Don Bosco replied, “but it would be better if you moved into the middle room.” Cagliero complied, but after a while he asked Don Bosco’s permission to move his bed back to the last room. Don Bosco did not let him do so. “Stay where you are and don’t worry,” he told him. 2You won’t get sick!”

Cagliero felt at ease again. A few days later Don Bosco summoned him again. “How many sleep in your room?”

“There are three of us: Gurgo, Garavaglia, and myself-four, if you include the piano!”

“Good,” Don Bosco said. “You are all musicians and Gurgo can teach you to play the piano. Make sure that you look after him well.” That was all he said, but Cagliero’s curiosity was aroused.

Suspecting something, he tried to question Don Bosco, but he cut him short, saying: “You’ll know in due time.” The secret, of course, was that the boy of the twenty-two moons was in that room.

One evening, at the beginning of December, after night prayers, Don Bosco mounted the podium as usual to give the Good Night and announced that one of the boys would die before Christmas. We must note that no one at the Oratory was sick at that time. Naturally this announcement, coupled with the fact that the twenty-two moons would soon be over, made everyone jittery. There was much talk about what he had said as well as fear that it would come true.

During these days Don Bosco once more sent for the cleric Cagliero. He asked him how Gurgo was behaving and whether he returned to the Oratory punctually after giving his music lessons in town. Cagliero replied that the boy was doing fine, as were the other boys. “Good,” Don Bosco said. “See that they keep it up, and let me know if anything goes wrong.”

About the middle of December Gurgo had a sudden attack of abdominal pains so violent that the doctor, who had been summoned at once, recommended that the boy receive the Last Sacraments. The pains continued for eight days, but, thanks to Dr. Debernardi’s care, they at last began to subside and Gurgo was able to get up again. The trouble apparently vanished, but – in the doctor’s opinion – the boy had had a narrow escape. Meanwhile, his father had been informed. No one had, as yet, died at the Oratory, and Don Bosco wanted to spare the boys the sight of a funeral. The Christmas novena had begun and Gurgo – now almost completely recovered – was planning to go home for Christmas. Nevertheless, Don Bosco seemed to doubt the good news of the boy’s recovery. His father arrived and, finding his son in good condition, asked permission to take him home for some further convalescence. He then went to book two seats on the stagecoach, intending to leave on the next day for Novara and Pettinengo. It was Sunday, December 23 [1855]. That evening Gurgo felt a craving for meat, although the doctor had forbidden it. Thinking that it would help to build his strength, his father went out to buy some and cooked it in a little pot. The boy drank the broth and ate the half-cooked meat-perhaps to excess. At bedtime his father retired for the night while Cagliero and the infirmarian remained with the boy. Sometime during the night Gurgo suffered another very severe attack of colic. “Cagliero, Cagliero!” he gasped. “I’m through giving you piano lessons.”

“Come now, don’t say that!” Cagliero protested.

“I’ll never see home again. Pray for me. Oh, what pains. Pray to Our Lady for me.”

“Of course I’ll pray, and you do likewise.”

Cagliero began praying but, overcome by fatigue, he soon fell asleep. He was suddenly awakened by the infirmarian who pointed to Gurgo and ran out to cail Father Alasonatti whose room was next door. He came immediately, but within minutes Gurgo was dead. That morning Cagliero met Don Bosco as he was coming down the stairs on his way to say Mass. He had been informed of
the death and looked very, very sad.

The whole Oratory was stunned. The twenty-second moon was not yet over. By dying shortly before dawn on December 24 Gurgo had also fulfilled Don Bosco’s second prediction-namely that one of the boys would die before Christmas.

After lunch, the boys and the clerics silently gathered around Don Bosco. The cleric John Turchi asked him point-blank whether Gurgo had been the boy of the moons. “Yes,” Don Bosco replied, “it was he; he was the one I saw in my dream.” Then he added: “You may have noticed that some time ago I had him sleep in a special room. Into that same room I also moved one of the best clerics, John Cagliero, so that he could look after him constantly.” As he said this, he turned to Cagliero and said: “The next time you’ll know better than object to Don Bosco’s arrangements. Do you understand now why I did not allow you to leave that room? I did not let you have your way because I wanted Gurgo to have someone to look after him. If he were still alive, he could tell you how often I spoke to him of death in a roundabout way and prepared him for it.”

“I understood then,” Bishop Cagliero later wrote, “why Don Bosco had given me those instructions. I learned to appreciate more and more his words and fatherly advice.”

“I still remember,” Peter Enria stated, “that on the evening of that day-Christmas Eve-at the Good Night Don Bosco was looking about as though searching for someone. After a while he said: ‘Gurgo is the first boy to die here at the Oratory. He was well prepared and we hope he is now in heaven. I exhort you to be ever ready. . .’ He could say no more, so great was his grief at the loss of one of his boys.”
(BM V, 243-247)

We shall now narrate another inspiring dream of Don Bosco which occurred on the nights of April 3, 4, and 5, 1861. “Its striking details,” Father Bonetti remarks, “will aptly convince our readers that this is such a dream as God now and then graciously sends to His faithful servants.” We shall report it here as detailed in Bonetti’s and Ruffino’s chronicles.

           
“After night prayers on April 7,” they wrote, “Don Bosco mounted the little rostrum to give the ‘Good Night’and spoke as follows:

I have something very strange to tell you tonight – a dream. It’s only a dream, so do not give it more importance than it merits. Let me first tell you, though, that I am quite honest with you, as I would like you to be honest with me. I keep no secrets from you, but what is said within the family should be kept in the family. I don’t mean to imply that it would be a sin to tell others, but even so I’d rather you didn’t. Talk about it all you want, and laugh and joke to your heart’s content among yourselves, or even with those few who may – in your opinion – benefit spiritually from it.

This dream has three parts because it lasted three nights. This evening I’ll tell you only the first part, leaving the rest for other nights. Surprisingly, on the second and third night I resumed the dream at the very point I had left off when I awoke.

PART ONE

Since dreams come while sleeping, I too was asleep. A few days ago, having to go out of town, I passed by the green-clad hills of Moncalieri.1 I was deeply impressed. Possibly this charming scene came back to my mind, stirring a desire to go hiking. As a matter of fact, that’s what I decided to do in my dream.

I seemed to be with my boys in a vast plain which stretched out to a massively high hill. As we were all standing there, I suddenly proposed a hike.

“Yes, yes!” they all cheerfully shouted. “Let’s go!”

“Where to?” we asked one another undecidedly. While we looked hopefully at each other for suggestions, someone abruptly blurted out, “Let’s hike to heaven.”

“Yes, yes, to heaven!” the cry arose on all sides.

We started off, and after a while we reached the foot of the hill and began climbing. A magnificent view soon unfolded before our eyes. As far as we could see, the hillside was dotted with trees and saplings of all kinds – some small and tender, others tall and vigorous, none thicker than a man’s arm. There were pears, apples, cherries, plums, vines, and other fruit trees. Amazingly, each tree had some flowers just blossoming and others in full bloom, some fruits just forming and others lusciously ripe. In other words, each tree showed the best of each season at one and the same time. The fruit was so plentiful that the branches sagged under its weight. Surprised at this phenomenon, the boys kept asking me for explanations. To satisfy their curiosity somewhat, I remember saying, “Well, it’s like this. Heaven is not like our earth with its seasons. Its climate is always the same, embodying the best of every season. It is very mild and suitable for every tree and plant.”

We stood entranced by the beauty surrounding us. The gentle breeze, the calm, and the fragrant air about us left no doubt that this climate was ideally suited to all kinds of fruits. Here and there, the boys were plucking apples, pears, cherries, or grapes while slowly climbing. When we finally reached the top of the hill, we thought we were in heaven, but in reality we were quite far from it.

From this vantage point we could see, beyond a vast plain, an extensive plateau and, in its center, a very lofty mountain soaring straight up to the clouds. Many people were determinedly struggling up its steep sides, while on its summit stood One inviting and encouraging them to go up. We also spotted some persons descending from the top to help those who were too exhausted to continue the steep climb. Those reaching the top were greeted with vibrant cheers and jubilation. We understood that paradise was at that peak, and so we started downhill toward the plateau and mountain.

After covering a good part of the way – many boys were running far ahead of the crowd – we were in for quite a surprise. Some distance from the foot of the mountain the plateau held a big lake full of blood. Its length would extend from the Oratory to Piazza Castello. Its shore was littered with human limbs, fractured skulls, and remnants of corpses. It was a gruesome sight, a veritable carnage! The boys who had run on ahead stopped in their tracks terrified. Being far behind and having no inkling of what was ahead, I was surprised to see them stop with horrified looks on their faces.

“What’s wrong?” I shouted. “Why don’t you keep going?”
“Come and see!” they replied. I hurried over and gazed upon the grim spectacle. As the others came up, they too took in the scene and immediately became silent and dispirited. Standing on the banks of that mysterious lake, I sought a way across, but in vain. Just in front of me, on the opposite bank, I could read a large inscription: Per sanguinem! [Through blood!]

Puzzled, the boys kept asking one another: “What does all this mean?”

Then I asked someone (who he was I can’t remember) for an explanation, and he replied, “This is the blood shed by the very many who have already reached the mountain’s summit and are now in heaven. It is the blood of martyrs. Here, also, is the blood of Jesus Christ. In it were bathed the bodies of those who were martyred in testimony of the faith. No one may enter heaven without passing through this blood and being sprinkled by it. It guards the Holy Mountain – the Catholic Church. Whoever attempts to attack her shall drown in it. The torn limbs, mangled bodies, and broken skulls dotting the shore are the gruesome remains of those who chose to fight the Church. All have been crushed to bits; all have perished in this lake.”

In the course of his explanation, the mysterious youth named many martyrs, including the papal soldiers who died defending the Pope’s temporal power.
Then, pointing eastward to our right, he showed us an immense valley four or five times the size of the lake. “Do you see that valley?” he asked. “Into it shall flow the blood of those who will pass this way to scale this mountain – the blood of the just, of those who will die for the faith in days to come.” Seeing that the boys were terrified by all they saw and heard, I tried to encourage them by saying that, if we were to die martyrs, our blood would flow into that valley, but our limbs would not be tossed about like those of the persecutors.

We then hastened to resume our march, skirting the shore of the lake. At our left stood the hill we had come down from; at our right were the lake and mountain. Where the lake ended, we saw a strip of land dotted with oaks, laurels, palms, and other trees. We went through it in search of a trail to the mountain, but only came across another vast lake. Floating in its waters were dismembered human limbs. On the shore stood an inscription: Per aquam! [Through water!]

“What does all this mean?” the boys again asked, mystified.

“This lake,” someone replied, “holds the water which flowed from Christ’s side. Small in quantity then, it has increased, is still increasing, and will keep increasing in the future. This is the baptismal water which washed and purified those who climbed this mountain. In this same water all who must still climb will have to be baptized and purified. In it must be cleansed all those who want to go to heaven. There is no other way to paradise than through innocence or penance. No one can be saved without being cleansed in this water.” Then, pointing to the dismembered limbs, he added, “These are the remains of those who have recently attacked the Church.”

Meanwhile, a number of people and some of our own boys, too, were swiftly darting across the lake, skimming over the waters without wetting the soles of their feet. We were astonished at this, but were told, “These are the just. When the souls of the saints are freed from their bodily prison or when their bodies are glorified, they not only can tread lightly and swiftly over water, but they can also fly through the air.”

Hearing this, all the boys, eager to cross the lake like the other people, looked at me inquiringly. No one, however, dared attempt it.

“For my part, I don’t dare,” I replied. “It would be rash to believe ourselves so just as to be able to cross the lake without sinking.”

“If you don’t dare, we dare even less,” they all exclaimed.

Continuing on our way, always skirting the mountain, we reached a third lake as large as the first, full of flames and more torn human limbs.

On the opposite shore an inscription proclaimed: Per ignem! [Through fire!]
While we were observing that fiery lake, that same mysterious person spoke again and said, “This is the fire of the charity of God and His saints. These are the flames of love and desire through which all must pass if they have not gone through blood and water. This is also the fire with which tyrants tortured and consumed so many martyrs. Many are they who had to go through it before climbing the mountain. But these flames will also serve to reduce their enemies to ashes.”

Thus for the third time we were seeing God’s enemies crushed and defeated.
Wasting no time, we advanced past the lake and came upon a fourth one, even more frightening, shaped like a huge amphitheatre. It was full of dogs, cats, wolves, bears, tigers, lions, panthers, snakes, and other fierce monsters eager to pounce upon anyone within their reach.

We saw people stepping over the heads of these raging beasts. We also saw boys fearlessly following them and suffering no injury.

I tried to call them back, shouting as loudly as I could: “Stop! Can’t you see that those beasts are just waiting to devour you?” It was useless.

They didn’t hear me and kept treading upon the monsters’ heads as if they were on firm, safe ground. My usual guide then said to me: “Those beasts symbolize the devils, the dangers and snares of the world. Those who step over them unharmed are the just, the innocent. Don’t you know what Holy Scripture says? ‘They shall tread upon the asp and the viper; they shall trample down the lion and the dragon.’ [Cf. Ps. 90, 131 It was of such souls that David spoke. And doesn’t the Gospel say:
‘Behold, I have given you power to tread upon serpents and scorpions and upon all the power of the enemy; and nothing shall hurt you’”? [Luke 10, 19]

We still kept asking one another: “How shall we cross over? Do we have to step over these wild beasts too?”

“Yes, let’s go!” someone told me.

“I don’t dare!” I replied. “It would be rash to believe ourselves so good as to be able to tread safely over these fierce beasts. Do as you wish, but not I.”

“Then we won’t try it either,” the boys concluded.

We left that place and came upon a vast plain crowded with noseless, earless, or headless people. Some, moreover, had no limbs, others had no hands or feet, and still others had no tongue or eyes. The boys were simply struck dumb at such an odd sight. A mysterious person explained: “These are God’s friends. To save their souls, they have mortified their senses and performed good works. Many lost parts of their bodies in carrying out harsh penances or in working for God or their fellow men. The headless ones are those who in a special manner consecrated themselves to God.”

While we were pondering these things, we could see that many people, having crossed the lake, were now ascending the mountain.

We also saw others, already at the top, helping and encouraging those who were going up, giving them joyous, hearty cheers of welcome as they reached the top. The handclapping and cheering woke me, and I found myself in bed. This ended the first part of the dream.

The following night, April 8, Don Bosco again spoke to the boys, who couldn’t wait to hear the continuation of the dream. He began by repeating his prohibition to put their hands on one another or move around the study hall, and added, “If one has to leave the study hall, he must ask his monitor’s permission.” By now the boys were becoming restless. Smiling upon their upturned faces, Don Bosco briefly paused and then went on thus:

PART TWO

You will remember that at the bottom of a deep valley, near the first lake, stood another lake yet to be filled with blood. Well, after seeing all I have already described and going around that plateau, we found a passage taking us into another valley, which in turn opened into a large, wedge-shaped plaza. We entered it. Wide at the entrance, it gradually tapered into a trail at its other end near the mountain. At this point the trail was wedged between two huge boulders so close together that only one person at a time could squeeze through. The plaza was filled with cheerful, happy people, all heading for the narrow mountain trail.
“Could that be the trail to heaven?” we asked one another. As the people reached it and squeezed through single-file, they had to pull their clothes tight, hold their breath, and discard whatever they carried. This sufficed to convince me that surely this was the way to heaven, for I remembered that, to get there, one must not only rid himself of sin, but also give up all worldly ties and desires. “There shall not enter into it anything defiled,” says the Apostle John. [Apoc. 21, 27] We stood briefly watching that scene. Then we did a very foolish thing. Instead of trying to squeeze through the trail, we turned back to see what was happening in the valley past the entrance of the plaza. We had noticed a great crowd of people far off, and we were curious to know what went on there.

We started off on a boundless stretch of land and were faced by the odd sight of people and many of our boys yoked to various kinds of animals. “What can this mean?” I mused. Then it flashed across my mind that the ox is a symbol of laziness, and I understood that those boys were lazy. I clearly recognized them. They were habitually indolent, sluggish in their work. So I said to myself, “It serves you right! Stay where you are! If you don’t want to work, that’s just where you belong!”

I saw others yoked to donkeys, carrying loads or grazing. These were the stubborn boys who obstinately resist suggestions and orders. Other lads were paired with mules and horses, reminding me of what Holy Scripture says: “He has become like the horse and the mule which have no understanding.” [Ps. 31, 9] These were the boys who never give a thought to their souls. Such empty heads!
Still others were feeding with pigs. Like them, they grunted and wallowed in the mire. These were the boys who feed on earthly pleasures by gratifying their lower passions. They are far from their heavenly Father. What a sad spectacle! They reminded me of what the Gospel says about the prodigal son being reduced to that sad state “by loose living.” [Luke 15, 13]

Finally, I saw a multitude of people – and some of our boys too – cavorting with cats, dogs, cocks, rabbits – animals symbolizing thieves, scandal-givers, braggards, and spineless individuals who don’t have the courage to stand up for their religious beliefs. We now realized that this valley represented the world. I took a good look at each of the boys, and then we moved on to another very large area of that boundless plain. The ground sloped so gently that we did not even notice it at first. A little way off there seemed to be a flower garden, and we decided to look at it. We first came across most beautiful red roses. “How gorgeous!” the boys shouted, running to pluck a few. But they were disappointed! Though full-blown and colourful, those roses were rotten inside and gave off an extremely foul stench. Fresh-looking violets were there too, but when we picked a few we saw that they also were blighted and smelly.

We kept going and came to several charming groves of trees laden with luscious fruit. They were truly enticing orchards. A boy ran up to a tree and plucked a large pear. A more beautiful one would be hard to find. Yet, as soon as he bit into it, he flung it away in disgust. It was stuffed with clay and sand and tasted awful.

 “How can this be?” we asked.

One of our boys, whose name I well remember, replied, “Is this all the world can give us? It’s a worthless sham!”

While we wondered where we were headed for, we became aware that the road was sloping, though ever so slightly. One boy remarked, “We’re going downhill. It’s no good!”

“Let’s take a look, anyway!” I replied.

Meanwhile, a vast multitude of people overtook us and kept going down the road in coaches, on horseback, or on foot. The last-named group kept jumping and running about, singing and dancing or marching along to the beat of drums. The merrymaking was beyond description.

“Let’s wait a while and see before going along with them,” we decided.

Presently a couple of boys noticed some individuals in the crowd who seemed to be directing various groups. They were handsome, well dressed, and quite gracious in manner, but it was obvious that their hats covered horns. That vast plain, then, symbolized our wicked, corrupt world so well described by the Holy Spirit: “Sometimes a way seems right to a man, but the end of it leads to death.”[Prov. 16, 25]

Then and there a mysterious person said to us: “See how men almost unknowingly fall into hell.” At this I immediately called back the boys who had gone ahead. They ran to me, crying, “We don’t want to go down there!” Still shouting, they kept running back to where we had come from, leaving me alone. When I finally caught up with them, l said, “You’re right. Let’s get out of here, or we too shall fall into he11 before we realize it!”

We wanted to return to the plaza from which we had set out and finally get started on the trail to the mountain. Imagine our surprise when, after a long walk, we saw no trace of the valley leading to heaven, but only a meadow. We turned this way and that, but could not find our bearings.

“We have taken the wrong road!” someone cried.

“No, we haven’t,” replied another.

While the boys were arguing, I woke up. Thus ended the dream on the second night.

Before sending you to bed, though, I must tell you one more thing. I do not want you to give any importance to this dream; just remember that pleasures which lead to perdition are deceitful; they are not pleasures at all! Remember also to be on guard against bad habits which make us so similar to beasts and deserving of being yoked with them.

Guard especially against sins that tum us into unclean animals. It is, indeed, most unbecoming for a man to be brought down to the level of beasts, but it is far more unbecoming for a creature made to God’s image and likeness, an heir to heaven, to wallow in the mire like swine through those sins which Holy Scripture labels “loose living.”

I told you only the highlights of my dream – and briefly too – because to narrate it as it was would take too much time. As a matter of fact, last night too I gave you but a hint of what I saw. Tomorrow night I will tell you the rest.

On Saturday 2 night, April 9, Don Bosco continued the narration of his dream:

PART THREE

I would rather not tell you my dreams. In fact, the night before last I had no sooner started my narration than I regretted my promise. I truly wished I had never said a word at all. However, I must confess that if I kept these things to myself I would feel very uneasy. Narrating them, in fact, is a great relief. I will therefore continue with the last part of the dream. Let me first say, though, that the past two nights I had to cut short many things which were better left unsaid, and I left out others which could be seen but not described.

After taking in all the scenes I mentioned, after seeing various places and ways through which one may fall into hell, we were determined to get to heaven at all costs, but try as we might, we always strayed off and came upon new sights. Finally we hit upon the right road and reached the plaza; it was still crowded with people striving to go up the mountain. If you remember, it gradually tapered into a very narrow trail wedged between two lofty boulders. Just beyond them was a rather long, very narrow, rayless bridge spanning a frightful gorge. As soon as we saw the trail, we all shouted, “There it is! Let’s go.”” And so we did.

Some boys immediately began running, leaving their companions behind. I wanted them to wait for me, but they had got it into their heads to arrive there first. On reaching the bridge, however, they became frightened and stopped. I tried to urge them to advance bravely, but they refused.

“Go ahead,” they replied. “You try it first, Father! The bridge is too narrow. If we miss one step, we’re through!” Finally one boy mustered enough courage to attempt the crossing; another followed him and then the rest. Thus we reached the foot of the mountain.

We looked for a trail but found none. We walked around looking for one, but our search was hindered on all sides by boulders, crags, ravines, and briers. The climb looked steep. We knew we were in for a hard time. Nevertheless, we did not lose heart and eagerly began to work our way up. After a short but very exhausting climb with hands and feet, occasionally helping one another, the obstacles began to decrease until we finally found a trail and were able to climb more comfortably.

Eventually we reached a spot on the mountainside where a great many people were suffering such horrible and strange pains that we were filled with compassion and horror. I cannot tell you what I saw because it’s too distressing and you could not bear it. I leave this out entirely.

We saw also very many people climbing the mountain on all sides.

As they reached the summit they were greeted with loud cheers and applause by those who were already there. We could also hear a truly heavenly music, a most melodious singing, which encouraged us all the more to keep climbing. While we ascended, a thought struck me, and I said to the boys near me, “Isn’t this funny? Here we are on our way to heaven, but are we alive or dead? What about the judgment? Or have we already been judged?”

“No,” they replied laughingly. “We are still alive.”

“Well,” I concluded, “alive or dead, let’s get to the top and see what’s there!” And we quickened our step.

By dint of perseverance we finally got close to the summit. Those already there were getting ready to greet us, but, as I looked behind to see if the boys were following, I found to my great sorrow that I was almost alone. Only three or four boys had kept up with me.

“Where are the others?” I asked, somewhat upset.

“They stopped here and there,” was the answer. “Perhaps they will come up later!”

I looked down and saw them scattered about the mountain trail, hunting for snails, picking scentless wild flowers, plucking wild berries, chasing butterflies and crickets, or just resting on some green patch under a shady tree. I shouted as loud as I could, waved to them, and called them by name, urging them to hurry up and telling them that this was no time to rest. A few heeded me, so that now I had about eight boys around me. All the others turned a deaf ear, busy with silly trifles. I had no intention at all of going to heaven with only a few boys, and therefore I decided to go down and get after those lazy fellows. I told the boys near me to wait and then I started down.

As many boys as I met, I sent up the mountain. I urged, exhorted, reprimanded, even jabbed and shoved, as needed.

“For heaven’s sake, go up,” I kept saying. “Don’t waste time on trifles!”

In the end, after reaching nearly every one of them, I found myself almost at the scarp of the mountain which we had climbed with so much effort. Here I stopped some boys who, exhausted and discouraged, had given up the ascent and were on their way down. As I turned to resume the climb with them, I stumbled against a stone and woke up. Now that you have heard the whole dream, I ask two things of you.

First, don’t tell it to outsiders, because they would only make fun of it.

I tell you these things just to please you. Talk about this dream among yourselves all you want, but remember that it is only a dream. Secondly, please don’t come to ask me if you were there or not, who was or wasn’t there, what you were or weren’t doing, if you were among the few or the many, where I saw you, or similar questions, because then we would have a repetition of last winter’s commotion. For some this could be more harmful than useful, and I don’t want to disturb your consciences.

I only tell you that, if this had not been a dream but reality and we had died then, of the seven or eight hundred boys we have here, very few would have made it to heaven – perhaps only three or four.

Now, lest you get me wrong, let me explain this rash statement.

What I mean is that only three or four would make it straight to heaven without having to go through purgatory. Some might have to spend only a minute there; others, perhaps a day; still others, several days or weeks; nearly all, at least a short time. Now would you like to know how to avoid that? Strive to gain as many indulgences as you possibly can. If you rightly carry out these practices of piety to which indulgences are attached and gain a plenary indulgence, you will go straight to heaven.

Don Bosco gave no private explanation of this dream to any of the pupils and said very little otherwise on the various meanings of the things he had seen. It would not have been easy. This dream, as we shall show, portrayed a variety of tableaux: the Oratory as it was and as it would be; all the boys who were there now or would come later – each with his moral traits and his future; the Salesian Society – its growth, vicissitudes, and destinies; the Catholic Church – her persecutions and triumphs; and other events of general or particular interest.

With tableaux so bewildering in their vastness and interaction, Don Bosco simply could not thoroughly describe everything he had so vividly seen in his dream. Besides, discretion dictated – and duty required – that some things be kept secret or disclosed only to prudent persons to whom such a revelation might be comforting or serve as a warning.

In narrating to his boys the various dreams of which we shall have occasion to speak in due time, Don Bosco only told them what was best for them, since this was the intent of Him who gave these mysterious revelations. Occasionally, however, because of the deep impression he had received, in an effort to choose his subject matter, Don Bosco hinted vaguely at other incidents, things, or ideas. Occasionally these seemed incoherent and unrelated to his narrative, but strongly suggested that he was holding back much more than he told. Such is the case in his narration of the hike to heaven. We shall attempt to throw some light upon it both by quoting a few words we heard from Don Bosco and also by making a few comments of our own. However, we submit them to the readers’ judgment.

1. Seemingly, the hill Don Bosco met at the start of his hike is the Oratory. Its verdure suggests youth. There are no old trees there, large and lofty; rather, youth’s blossoms are ever flowering, and flowers and fruit blossom and ripen in every season. Such is the Oratory, or such it should be. Like all of Don Bosco’s works it is sustained by charity, which Holy Scripture describes as a garden blessed by God, yielding precious fruits of immortality, similar to Eden’s garden, where stood also the tree of life.

2. The mountain climbers are prefigured in the man described in Psalm 8 3, whose strength comes from the Lord. In this valley of tears he – and many others too – resolved to climb steadily to the summit of the mountain, to the tabernacle of the Most High, that is, to heaven. [Cf. Ps. 83, 6] Our Lord, the lawgiver, will bless
them, fill them with His grace, and help them to grow in all virtues until they see God in the heavenly Jerusalem and are eternally happy with Him.

3. The lakes seemingly sum up the history of the Church. The countless severed limbs scattered about the shores are the remnants of persecutors, heretics, schismatics, and rebellious Christians.

From certain expressions of Don Bosco in his dream we gather that he saw events both present and future. The chronicle remarks:

“Speaking privately to a few about the vast valley near the lake of blood, Don Bosco said, ‘That deep valley is to be filled especially with the blood of priests, perhaps very soon.’”

The chronicle continues: “During the last few days Don Bosco paid a visit to Cardinal De Angelis who said to him: ‘Tell me something to cheer me up.’

“ ‘Very well, I will tell you a dream.’

“Don Bosco then began to narrate his dream, but with more details and remarks. When he came to the lake of blood, the cardinal became serious and sad. Don Bosco cut his account short, saying, ‘That will be all for now!’

“ ‘Go on,’ said the cardinal.

“ ‘Not now,’ Don Bosco repeated, and then passed on to more cheerful topics.

4. The straight, narrow pass between the two boulders, the narrow wooden bridge (Our Lord’s Cross), the self-assurance of a man of faith that he can cross it, the peril to which a man exposes himself in so doing if he does not have the right intention, the various obstacles before the mountain trail becomes passable – all this, if we are not mistaken, may refer to religious vocations. The people in the plaza may be boys called by God to serve Him in the Salesian Society. In fact, all those waiting to start on the trail to heaven looked happy and content and enjoyed themselves. This would indicate mostly young people. As for the climbers who had stopped in their ascent or were turning back, could this not suggest a cooling in following one’s vocation? Don Bosco’s own interpretation of this incident could indirectly allude to vocations, but he did not deem it wise to elaborate.

5. On the slope of the mountain, just past the initial obstacles, Don Bosco saw people in pain. Father Bonetti’s chronicle offers this explanation: “Several asked him about this privately, and he replied, ‘This place symbolized purgatory. If I had to preach on this subject, I’d just describe what I saw. It was simply frightful.
There were all kinds of torments. I will only say that I saw people crushed under presses, hands, feet and heads sticking out all around, eyes bursting from their sockets. These people were so badly squashed and crushed that the sight was truly bloodcurdling.’”

We shall conclude with an important observation which can apply to this and other dreams which we shall narrate. In these dreams or visions, as they may be called, there nearly always appears a personage who acts as Don Bosco’s guide or interpreter.

Who can he be? This is the most amazing and consoling part of these dreams, but Don Bosco kept it in his heart.
(MB IT VI, 864-882 / MB EN VI, 508-520)

INTRODUCTION. ANCHORED IN HOPE, PILGRIMS WITH YOUNG PEOPLE
1. ENCOUNTERING CHRIST OUR HOPE TO RENEW DON BOSCO’S DREAM
1.1 The Jubilee
1.2 Anniversary of the first Salesian missionary expedition
2. THE JUBILEE: CHRIST OUR HOPE
2.1 Pilgrims, anchored in Christian hope
2.2 Hope as a journey to Christ, a journey to eternal life
2.3 Characteristics of hope
2.3.1 Hope, continuous, ready, visionary and prophetic tension
2.3.2 Hope is our wager on the future
2.3.3 Hope is not a private matter
3. HOPE, THE FOUNDATION OF MISSION
3.1 Hope is an invitation to responsibility
3.2 Hope demands courage from the Christian community in evangelization
3.3 “Da mihi animas”: the “spirit” of mission
3.3.1 The attitudes of the one who is sent
3.3.2 Recognise, Rethink and Relaunch
4. A JUBILEE AND MISSIONARY HOPE THAT TRANSLATES INTO CONCRETE AND DAILY LIFE
4.1 Hope, our strength in daily life that needs to be witnessed to
4.2 Hope is the art of patience and waiting
5. THE ORIGIN OF OUR HOPE: IN GOD WITH DON BOSCO
5.1 God is the origin of our hope
5.1.1 Brief reference to the dream
5.1.2 Don Bosco, a “giant” of hope
5.1.3 Characteristics of Don Bosco’s hope
5.1.4 The “fruits” of Don Bosco’s hope
5.2 God’s faithfulness: to the very end
6. WITH… MARY, HOPE AND MATERNAL PRESENCE

INTRODUCTION. ANCHORED IN HOPE, PILGRIMS WITH YOUNG PEOPLE

Dear sisters and brothers belonging to the different Groups of the Salesian Family of Don Bosco,

My warmest greetings to you at the beginning of this new year 2025!

It is with some emotion that I address each and every one of you in this time of grace marked by two important events for the life of the Church and our Family: the Jubilee 2025 year which began solemnly on 24 December last with the opening of the holy door at St Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican, and the 150th anniversary of the first missionary expedition at the express wish of our father Don Bosco. This expedition left on 11 November 1875 for Argentina and other countries in the Americas.

These are two important events that find their point of intersection in hope. This is precisely the virtue that Pope Francis identified as a perspective when announcing the Jubilee. Similarly, the missionary experience is a harbinger of hope for everyone: for those who have left (and are leaving) for the missions and for those who have been reached by missionaries.

The year that is given to us is, therefore, rich in ideas for our daily growth in practical terms, so that our humanity becomes fruitful in its attention to others… This will only happen in hearts that place God at the centre, to the point of being able to say, “I have placed you ahead of myself.”

I will try to highlight these elements in this commentary, and explore what the Church is invited to experience throughout this year from our charismatic perspective. I will try to emphasise what it is that should guide us, the Family of Don Bosco, towards new horizons.

1. ENCOUNTERING CHRIST OUR HOPE TO RENEW DON BOSCO’S DREAM

The Strenna’s title involves the interweaving of two events: the ordinary jubilee of the year 2025 and the 150th anniversary of the first missionary expedition sent by Don Bosco to Argentina.

This concurrence of the two events, which I venture to call “providential”, makes 2025 a decidedly extraordinary year for all of us and even more so for the Salesians of Don Bosco. Indeed the 29th General Chapter will be held in February, March and April, leading to the election of the new Rector Major and the new General Council, among other things.

Global and particular events, therefore, that involve us in different ways and that we will seek to experience profoundly and intensely, because it is precisely thanks to these events that we can experience the joy of encountering Christ, and the importance of remaining anchored in hope.

1.1 The Jubilee

“Spes non confundit! Hope does not disappoint!”[1]

This is how Pope Francis presents the Jubilee to us. How wonderful! What a “prophetic” cue!

The Jubilee is a pilgrimage for putting Jesus Christ back at the centre of our lives and the life of the world. Because he is our hope. He is the Hope of the Church and of the whole world!

We are all aware that the world today needs the hope that connects us with Jesus Christ and with our other brothers and sisters. We need the hope that makes us pilgrims, that propels us into motion, and prompts us to start walking.

We are speaking of hope as the rediscovery of God’s presence. Pope Francis writes “May hope fill your hearts!”, not only warm your hearts, but fill them, fill them to overflowing![2]

1.2 Anniversary of the first Salesian missionary expedition

And this overflowing hope filled the hearts of those who took part in the first Salesian missionary expedition to Argentina 150 years ago.

From Valdocco, Don Bosco throws his heart beyond every border, sending his sons to the other side of the world! He sends them beyond all human security, sends them to carry forward what he had begun, setting out with others, hoping and infusing hope. He simply sends them – and the first (young) confreres leave and head off. Where? Not even they know where! But they rely on hope and obey, because it is God’s presence that guides us.

Our current hope also finds new energy in that enthusiastic obedience, and urges us to set out as pilgrims.

That is why this anniversary should be celebrated: because it helps us to recognise a gift (not a personal achievement, but a free gift, from the Lord); it allows us to remember and to gain strength from this memory to face and build the future.

Today, therefore, let us live to make this future possible and let us do it in the only way we consider great: by sharing our journey of encountering Christ, our only hope, with young people and with all the people in our settings (starting from the poorest and most forgotten).

2. THE JUBILEE: CHRIST OUR HOPE

The Jubilee is journeying together, anchored in Christ our hope. But what does this really mean?

Let me pick up some of the elements of the Bull of indiction for Jubilee 2025 that highlight some of the characteristics of hope.

2.1 Pilgrims, anchored in Christian hope

We are convinced that nothing and no one can separate us from Christ.[3] Because we want to and must remained anchored, clinging to him. We cannot make the journey without our anchor.

The anchor of hope, therefore, is Christ himself who carries the sufferings and wounds of humanity on the cross in the presence of the Father.

The anchor, in fact, is the shape of a cross, which is why it was also depicted in the catacombs to symbolise the belonging of the deceased faithful to Christ the Saviour.

This anchor is already firmly attached to the port of salvation. Our task is to attach our life to it, the rope that binds our ship to the anchor of Christ.

We are sailing on troubled waters and need to anchor ourselves to something solid. But the task is no longer to cast anchor and fix it to the seabed. The task is to attach our ship to the rope that hangs down from Heaven, so to speak, where the anchor of Christ is firmly fixed. By attaching ourselves to this rope we attach ourselves to the anchor of salvation and make our hope certain.

Hope is certain when the ship of our life is attached to the rope that binds us to the anchor that is fixed in the crucified Christ who is at the right hand of the Father, that is, in the eternal communion of the Father, in the love of the Holy Spirit.[4]

Everything is well expressed in the liturgical prayer for the Solemnity of the Lord’s Ascension:

Gladden us with holy joys, almighty God, and make us rejoice with devout thanksgiving, for the Ascension of Christ your Son is our exaltation, and, where the Head has gone before in glory, the Body is called to follow in hope.[5]

Czech writer and politician Vaclav Havel describes hope as a state of mind, a dimension of the soul. It does not depend on prior observation of the world. It is not a prediction.

Byung-Chul Han adds, “Hope is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart that transcends the world that is immediately experienced, and is anchored somewhere beyond its horizons.

“I feel that its deepest roots are in the transcendental… Hope in this deep and powerful sense is not the same as joy that things are going well. We might think that hoping is simply wanting to smile at life because it in turn smiles at you, but no, we have to go deeper, we have to walk that rope that leads us to the anchor.

“Hope is the ability of each of us to work for something because it is right to do so, not because that something will have guaranteed success. It could be a failure, it could go wrong: we do not hope it goes well, we are not optimistic. We work to make this happen. That is why hope does not equal optimism. Hope is not the belief that something will go well but the certainty that something makes sense regardless of its outcome.

“Doing something because it makes sense: this is the hope that presupposes values and presupposes faith.

“This is what gives hope the strength to live, and gives us the strength to feel something again and again, even in despair.”[6]

But how can you be on a journey while remaining anchored? The anchor weighs you down, holds you back, and pins you down. Where does this journey lead to? It leads to eternity.

2.2 Hope as a journey to Christ, a journey to eternal life

The promise of eternal life, just as it is made to each of us, does not bypass life’s journey, it is not a leap upwards, does not propose mounting a rocket that leaves the earth behind and flies off into space, disregarding the road, the dust of the path, nor does it leave the ship adrift mid-ocean without us.

This promise is indeed an anchor that is fixed in the eternal, but to which we remain attached by a rope that steadies the ship as it crosses the ocean. And it is precisely the fact that it is fixed in Heaven that allows the ship not to remain stationary in the middle of the sea, but to move forward through the waves.

If the anchor of Christ were to pin us to the bottom of the sea, we would all stay in place where we are, maybe calm and problem-free, yet stagnant, without travelling or advancing. On the contrary, anchoring life to Heaven guarantees that the promise that gives rise to our hope does not impede our progress or provide a sense of security in which to shelter and confine ourselves, but rather instils confidence as we walk and proceed along our path. The promise of a sure goal, already reached for us by Christ, makes every step in life firm and decisive.

It is important to understand the Jubilee as a pilgrimage, as an invitation to get moving, to come out of self to go towards Christ.

Jubilee, then, has always been synonymous with a journey. If you really want God, you have to move, you have to walk. Because the desire for God, the longing for God moves you to find him and, at the same time, leads you to find yourself and others.

“Born to never die”.[7]

The title of the life of Servant of God Chiara Corbella Petrillo is beautiful and significant. Yes, because our coming into the world is directed to eternal life. Eternal life is a promise that breaks through the door of death, opening us to being “face to face with God”, forever. Death is a door that closes and at the same time a door that opens to the definitive encounter with God!

We know how keen was Don Bosco’s desire for Heaven, something he joyfully proposed and shared with the young people at the Oratory.

2.3 Characteristics of hope

2.3.1 Hope, continuous, ready, visionary and prophetic tension

Gabriel Marcel,[8] the so-called philosopher of hope, teaches us that hope is found in the weaving of experience now in progress. Hope means giving credit to some reality as a bearer of the future.

Eric Fromm[9] writes that hope is not passive waiting, but rather a continuous, constant tension. It is like crouched tiger which will jump only when the time is right.

To have hope is to be vigilant at all times for everything that has not yet happened. The virgins who waited for the bridegroom with their lamps lit hoped; Don Bosco hoped in the face of difficulties and knelt down to pray.

Hope is ready at the moment when everything is about to be born.

It is vigilant, attentive, listening, able to guide in creating something new, in giving life to the future on earth.

This is why it is “visionary and prophetic”. It focuses our attention on what is not yet, it helps to give birth to something new.

2.3.2 Hope is our wager on the future

Without hope there is no revolution, no future, there is only a present made of sterile optimism.

Often it is thought that those who hope are optimists while pessimists are essentially their opposite. It is not so. It is important not to confuse hope with optimism. Hope is much more profound because it does not depend on moods, feelings or sentimentality. The essence of optimism is innate positivity. The optimist lives in the belief that somehow things will get better. For optimists, time is closure. They do not contemplate the future: everything will go well and that is it.

Paradoxically, even for pessimists time is closure: they find themselves trapped in the time as a prison, rejecting everything without venturing into other possible worlds. The pessimist is as stubborn as the optimist, and both are blind to the possible because the possible is alien to them, they lack the passion for the unprecedented.

Unlike both of them, hope wagers on what can go beyond, on what could be.

And still, the optimist (just like the pessimist), does not act, because every action involves a risk and since they do not want to take this risk they stay put, they do not want to experience failure.

Hope instead goes in search, tries to find a direction, heads towards what it does not know, sets sail for new things. This is the pilgrimage of a Christian.

2.3.3 Hope is not a private matter

We all carry hope in our hearts. It is not possible not to hope, but it is also true that one can delude oneself, considering prospects and ideals that will never come true, that are just illusions and false hopes.

Much of our culture, especially Western culture, is full of false hopes that delude and destroy or can irreparably ruin the lives of individuals and entire societies.

According to positive thinking, it is enough to replace negative thoughts with positive ones to live more happily. Through this simple mechanism, the negative aspects of life are completely omitted and the world appears like an Amazon marketplace that will provide us with anything we want thanks to our positive attitude.

Conclusion: if our willingness to think positively were enough to be happy, then everyone would be solely responsible for their own happiness.

Paradoxically, the cult of positivity isolates people, makes them selfish and destroys empathy, because people are increasingly committed only to themselves and do not care about the suffering of others.

Hope, unlike positive thinking, does not avoid the negativity of life; it does not isolate but unites and reconciles, because the protagonist of hope is not me, focused on my ego, entrenched exclusively on myself. The secret of hope is us.

Therefore, Hope’s siblings are Love, Faith, and Transcendence.

3. HOPE, THE FOUNDATION OF MISSION

3.1 Hope is an invitation to responsibility

Hope is a gift and, as such, should be passed on to everyone we meet along the way.

Saint Peter states this clearly: “Always be ready to make your defence to anyone who demands from you an account of the hope that is in you.”[10] He invites us not to be afraid, to act in everyday life, to give our reasons – how much Salesian spirit there is in this word “reasons”! – for hope. This is a responsibility for the Christian. If we are women and men of hope, it shows!

“Giving an account of the hope that is in us” becomes a proclamation of the “good news” of Jesus and his Gospel.

But why is it necessary to respond to anyone who asks us about the hope that is in us? And why do we feel the need to recover hope?

In the Bull of Indiction of the Jubilee, Spes Non Confundit, Pope Francis reminds us that “All of us, however, need to recover the joy of living, since men and women, created in the image and likeness of God, cannot rest content with getting along one day at a time, settling for the here and now and seeking fulfilment in material realities alone.  This leads to a narrow individualism and the loss of hope; it gives rise to a sadness that lodges in the heart and brings forth fruits of discontent and intolerance.”[11]

An observation that strikes us because it describes all the sadness that is breathed in our societies and our communities. It is a sadness masked by false joy, the one constantly touted, promised, and guaranteed to us by the media, advertisements, politicians’ propaganda, and many false prophets of well-being. Settling for well-being prevents us from opening up to a much greater, much truer, much more eternal good: what Jesus and the apostles call “the salvation of the soul, the salvation of life”; a good for which Jesus invites us not to fear losing our life, material goods, false securities that often collapse in an instant.

It is regarding these kinds of more or less articulated “questions” (including by young people) that it is our task to “give an account”. What do I want for the young people and for all the people I meet along the way? What would I like to ask God for them? How would I like it to change their lives?

There is only one answer: eternal life. Not only eternal life as a sublime state that we can reach after death, but eternal life possible here and now, eternal life as Jesus defines it: “And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent”, that is, a defined life, enlightened by communion with Christ and, through him, with the Father.[12]

And we have the task of accompanying the younger generations on this journey towards eternal life, in the educational activity that distinguishes us. An activity that is a mission for us as the Salesian Family. And what drives our mission? Always Christ, our hope.

This educational mission, in fact, has hope at its core.

Ultimately, God’s hope is never hope for itself alone. It is always hope for others: it does not isolate us, it makes us supportive and encourages us to educate each other in truth and love.

3.2 Hope demands courage from the Christian community in evangelization

Courage and hope are an interesting combination. In fact, if it is true that it is impossible not to hope, it is equally true that courage is necessary to hope. Courage comes from having the same outlook as Christ,[13] capable of hoping against all hope, of seeing a solution even where there seems to be no way out. And how “Salesian” this attitude is!

All this requires the courage to be oneself, to recognise one’s identity in the gift of God and to invest one’s energies in a precise responsibility, aware that what has been entrusted to us is not ours, and that we have the task of passing it on to the next generations. This is the heart of God. This is the life of the Church.

It is an attitude that we find in the first missionary expedition.

I find reference to art. 34 of the Constitutions of the Salesians of Don Bosco very useful: it highlights what lies at the heart of our charismatic and apostolic movement. I suggest to each of the groups in our diverse and beautiful Family that they review the same elements that I offer here, by rereading their respective Constitutions and Statutes.

The article is entitled: Evangelization and catechesis and reads as follows:

“This Society had its beginning in a simple catechism lesson.” For us too, evangelizing and catechizing are the fundamental characteristics of our mission.

Like Don Bosco, we are all called to be educators to the faith at every opportunity. Our highest knowledge therefore is to know Jesus Christ, and our greatest delight is to reveal to all people the unfathomable riches of his mystery.

We walk side by side with the young so as to lead them to the risen Lord, and so discover in him and in his gospel the deepest meaning of their own existence, and thus grow into new creatures in Christ.

The Virgin Mary is present in this process as a mother. We make her known and loved as the one who believed, who helps and who infuses hope.”

This article represents the beating heart that clearly outlines, including for this Strenna, what the energies and opportunities are as the fulfilment and actualisation of the “global dream” that God inspired in Don Bosco.

If living the Jubilee is first of all making sure that Jesus is and returns to being in first place, then the missionary spirit is the consequence of this recognised primacy which strengthens our hope and translates into that educative and pastoral charity that proclaims the person of Jesus Christ to all. This is the heart of evangelisation and characterises genuine mission.

It is significant to recall some opening words from Benedict XVI’s first Encyclical, Deus caritas est:

“Being Christian is not the result of an ethical choice or a lofty idea, but the encounter with an event, a person, which gives life a new horizon and a decisive direction.”[14]

Therefore, the encounter with Christ is a priority and fundamental, not the “simple” dissemination of a doctrine, but a deep personal experience of God that urges us to communicate him, to make him known and experienced, becoming true “mystagogues” of the lives of young people.

3.3 “Da mihi animas”: the “spirit” of mission

Don Bosco always kept a sentence before his eyes that young people could read passing in front of his room, words that particularly struck Dominic Savio: “Da mihi animas cetera tolle”.

There is a fundamental balance in this motto that combines the two priorities that guided Don Bosco’s life – and which, significantly, we call the “grace of unity” – that allow us to always safeguard interiority and apostolic action.

If the love of God is lacking in the heart, how can there be true pastoral charity? And at the same time, if apostles were not to discover the face of God in their neighbour, how could they be said to love God?

Don Bosco’s secret is that he personally experienced the unique “movement of charity towards God and towards his brothers and sisters”[15] that characterises the Salesian spirit.

3.3.1 The attitudes of the one who is sent

There are two key dreams in Don Bosco’s life in which the attitudes of the apostle, of the one who is sent, are evident:

the “dream at nine years of age” in which Jesus and Mary ask John, just a child, to make himself humble, strong and energetic, to be obedient and acquire knowledge, asking him to be always kind in order to win over the hearts of young people. He is to always keep Mary as his teacher and guide;

the “dream of the pergola of roses” that indicates the “passion” in Salesian life that requires wearing the “good shoes” of mortification and charity.

3.3.2 Recognise, Rethink and Relaunch

Celebrating the 150th anniversary of Don Bosco’s first missionary expedition is a great gift for

Recognising and thanking God.

Recognition makes the fatherly nature of every beautiful accomplishment evident. Without recognition, there is no capacity to accept. All the times we do not recognise a gift in our personal and institutional life, we seriously risk nullifying it and “taking it over”.

Rethinking, because “nothing is forever”.

Fidelity involves the ability to change, through obedience, to a perspective that comes from God and from reading the “signs of the times”. Nothing is forever: from a personal and institutional point of view, true fidelity is the ability to change, recognising what the Lord calls each of us to.

Rethinking, then, becomes a generative act in which faith and life come together; a moment in which to ask ourselves: what do you want to tell us, Lord, with this person, with this situation in the light of the signs of the times that ask me to have the very heart of God in order to interpret them?

Relaunching, starting over every day.

Recognition leads to looking far ahead and welcoming new challenges, relaunching the mission with hope. Mission is to bring the hope of Christ with clear and conscious awareness, linked to faith, which makes me recognise that what I see and experience “is not mine”.

4. A JUBILEE AND MISSIONARY HOPE THAT TRANSLATES INTO CONCRETE AND DAILY LIFE

4.1 Hope, our strength in daily life that needs to be witnessed to

Saint Thomas Aquinas writes: “Spes introcit ad caritatem”, hope prepares and predisposes our life, our humanity, to charity.[16] A charity that is also justice, social action.

Hope needs testimony. We are at the heart of the mission, because the mission is not, in the first instance, to do things but is a testimony, the witness of the one who has gone through an experience and speaks about it. The witness is the bearer of a memory, solicits questions from those who meet him or her, evokes wonder.

The testimony of hope requires a community. It is the work of a collective subject and it is contagious, just as our humanity is contagious, because such testimony is a bond with the Lord.

Hope in the testimony of mission is to be built from generation to generation, between adults and young people: this is the way of the future. Consumerism eats away the future in our culture. The ideology of consumption extinguishes everything in the “here and now”, in the “everything, and immediately”. But you cannot consume the future, you cannot appropriate what is other than you; you cannot appropriate the other.[17]

In building the future, hope is the ability to make promises and to keep them… such a splendid and rare thing in our world. To promise is to hope, to set in motion, that is why – as mentioned – hope is a journey, it is the very energy of the journey.

4.2 Hope is the art of patience and waiting

Every life, every gift, everything needs time to grow. So too do God’s gifts take time to mature. This is why in our present time, where everything is instant, in our hurried “consumption” of time and life, we are called to cultivate the virtues of patience, because hope comes to fruition through patience.[18] In fact, hope and patience are intimately linked.

Hope involves the ability to wait, to wait for growth, as if to say that “one virtue leads to another”!

For hope to become reality, to manifest itself in its full sense, patience is required. Nothing manifests itself miraculously, because everything is subject to the law of time. Patience is the art of the farmer who sows and knows how to wait for the seed sown to grow and bear fruit.

Hope begins in us as waiting, expectation, and it is experienced as consciously lived expectation in our humanity. This waiting, this expectation is a very important dimension of human experience. Human beings know how to wait, are always in a dimension of waiting, because they are creatures who consciously live in time.

Human waiting, expectation, is the true measure of time, a measure that is not numerical or chronological. We have become accustomed to calculating our waiting time, to saying that we have waited an hour, that the train is five minutes late, that the internet has made us wait fourteen endless seconds before responding to our click, but when we measure it in this way we distort our waiting, turning it into a thing, a phenomenon detached from ourselves and what we are waiting for. It is as if the waiting were something in itself, by itself, without any connection. Instead, waiting – and here is the crucial point – is relationship, a dimension of the mystery of relationship.

Only those who have hope have patience. Only those who have hope become capable of “enduring”, of “supporting from below” the different situations that life presents. Those who endure wait, hope, and manage to endure everything because their effort has the sense of waiting, has the tension of waiting, the loving energy of waiting.

We know that the call to patience and waiting sometimes involves the experience of fatigue, work, pain and death.[19] Well, fatigue, pain and death expose the illusion of having time, the meaning of time, the value of time, the meaning and value of our life. They are negative experiences, but also positive because fatigue, pain and death can be opportunities to rediscover the true meaning of life’s time.

And, once again, “to give an account of the hope that is in us”, becoming the proclamation of the “good news” of Jesus and his Gospel.

5. THE ORIGIN OF OUR HOPE: IN GOD WITH DON BOSCO

Father Egidio Viganò offered the Congregation and the Salesian Family an interesting reflection on the topic of hope, drawing on our very rich tradition and highlighting some specific characteristics of the Salesian spirit read in the light of this theological virtue. He did this by commenting, in particular for participants at the General Chapter of the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians, on Don Bosco’s dream of the ten diamonds.[20]

Given the depth of the proposed contents, I think it is useful to recall the contribution of the 7th Successor of Don Bosco in reminding us of what we are all called to live, once again from the perspective of hope.

5.1 God is the origin of our hope

5.1.1 Brief reference to the dream

We all know the story of this extraordinary dream that Don Bosco had in San Benigno Canavese on the night of 10 September 1881. Let me briefly recall its structure.[21]

The Dream takes place in three scenes. In the first scene, the main character embodies the profile of the Salesian: on the front of his cloak there are five diamonds – three on the chest, representing “Faith”, “Hope” and “Charity”, and two on the shoulders, representing “Work” and “Temperance”; on the back there are five additional diamonds indicating “Obedience“, “Vow of Poverty”, “Reward”, “Vow of Chastity“ and “Fasting”.

Fr Rinaldi calls this character with the ten diamonds “The model of the true Salesian”.

In the second scene, the character shows the adulteration of the model: his cloak “had become faded, moth-eaten, in tatters. In place of the diamonds there were gaping holes caused by moths and other insects.”

This very sad and depressing scene shows “the opposite to the true Salesian”, the anti-Salesian.

In the third scene, “a handsome young man dressed in a white cloak woven through with gold and silver thread […] of imposing and charming mien” appears. He is the bearer of a message. He urges the Salesians to “listen”, to “understand”, to remain “strong and courageous”, to “witness” with their words and with their lives, to “be careful” in the acceptance and formation of the new generations, to make their Congregation grow healthily.

The three dream scenes are lively and provocative; they present us with an agile, personalised and dramatised synthesis of Salesian spirituality. The content of the dream, in Don Bosco’s mind, certainly involves an important frame of reference for our vocational identity.

So then, the character in the dream – as is well known – bears the diamond of hope on the front, which stands for the certainty of help from above in an entirely creative life, i.e. one committed to daily planning of practical activities for salvation, especially of youth. Together with the other symbols linked to the theological virtues, the figure of those who are wise and optimistic stands out for the faith that animates them; of those who are dynamic and creative for the hope that moves them, and who are ever prayerful and good human beings for the charity with which they are imbued.

Corresponding to the diamond of hope, on the back of the figure we find the diamond of “reward”. While hope visibly highlights the Salesian’s energy and activity in building the Kingdom, the constancy of his efforts and the enthusiasm of his commitment based on the certainty of God’s help made present through the mediation and intercession of Christ and Mary, the diamond of “reward”instead underlines a constant conscientious attitude that permeates and animates all ascetic effort, according to Don Bosco’s familiar maxim: “A piece of paradise will make up for everything!”[22]

5.1.2 Don Bosco, a “giant” of hope

The Salesian – Don Bosco said – “is ready to suffer cold and heat, hunger and thirst, weariness and disdain whenever God’s glory and the salvation of souls require it”;[23] the inner support for this demanding ascetic ability is the thought of paradise as a reflection of the good conscience with which he works and lives. “In all we do, our duty, work, troubles or sufferings, we must never forget that… the least thing done for his name’s sake is not left forgotten; it is of faith that in his own good time he will give us rich recompense. At the end of our lives as we stand before his judgement seat he will say, radiant with love: “Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a little, I will set you over much; enter into the joy of your master” (Mt 25:2).[24] “In your work and sorrow never forget we have a great reward stored up for us in heaven.”[25] And when our Father says that the Salesian exhausted by too much work represents a victory for the whole Congregation, it seems to suggest a dimension of fraternal communion in the reward, almost a community sense of paradise!

The thought and continuous awareness of paradise is one of the overarching ideas and one of the driving values of Don Bosco’s typical spirituality and also pedagogy. It is like shedding light on and furthering the fundamental instinct of the soul that tends vitally towards its ultimate goal.

In a world prone to secularisation and the gradual loss of a sense of God – especially due to affluence and certain progress – it is important to resist the temptation, for ourselves and for the young people with whom we journey, that prevents us from looking up to Heaven and does not make us feel the need to sustain and nurture a commitment to asceticism lived out in our daily work. A temporal gaze is growing in its place, according to a somewhat elegant kind of horizontalism that believes it can discover the ideal of everything within human becoming and in the present life. Quite the opposite of hope!

Don Bosco was one of the greats of hope. There are so many elements to prove it. His Salesian spirit is entirely infused with the certainty and industriousness characteristic of this bold dynamism of the Holy Spirit.

Let me pause briefly to recall how Don Bosco was able to translate the energy of hope in his life on two fronts: commitment to personal sanctification and the mission of salvation for others; or rather – and here lies a central characteristic of his spirit – personal sanctification through the salvation of others. We remember the famous formula of the three “S’s”: “Salve, salvando salvati” (a greeting which in today’s language would be something like ‘Hi! By saving others, save yourself’)[26] It is a simple mnemonic, a pedagogical slogan, but it is profound and indicates how the two sides of personal sanctification and the salvation of others are closely linked.

In the “work” and “temperance” pair, the perception is that Don Bosco experienced hope as a practical and daily programme for the tireless work of sanctification and salvation. In contemplation of the mystery of God his faith led him to prefer his ineffable plan of salvation. He saw in Christ the Saviour of humankind and the Lord of history; in his Mother, Mary, the Helper of Christians; in the Church, the great Sacrament of salvation; in his own Christian growth to maturity and in needy youth, the vast field of the “not yet”. Therefore his heart erupted in the cry, “Da mihi animas”, Lord grant that I may save youth, and take the rest away from me! The following of Christ and the youth mission merge, in his spirit, in a single theological burst of energy that constitutes the supporting structure of the whole.

We know well that the dimension of Christian hope combines the perspective of the “already” and the “not yet”: something present and something in progress that, however, begins to manifest itself from today even if “not yet” fully.

5.1.3 Characteristics of Don Bosco’s hope

The certainty of the “already”

When we ask theology what the formal object of hope is, it responds that it is the intimate conviction of the presence of God who helps, aids, and assists; the inner certainty about the power of the Holy Spirit; friendship with the victorious Christ that enables us to say with St Paul, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Phil 4:13).

The first constitutive element of hope is, therefore, the certainty of the “already”. Hope encourages faith to exercise itself in consideration of God’s saving presence in human vicissitudes, of the power of the Spirit in the Church and in the world, of Christ’s kingship over history, of the baptismal values that have initiated the life of resurrection within us.

The first constitutive element of hope is, therefore, an exercise of faith in the essence of God as merciful and saving Father, in what Jesus Christ has already done for us, in Pentecost as the beginning of the age of the Holy Spirit, in what is already within us through Baptism, the sacraments, life in the Church, the personal call of our vocation.

It is necessary to reflect that faith and hope interchange in us, their dynamics prompt and complement each other and make us live in the creative and transcendent atmosphere of the power of the Holy Spirit.

A clear awareness of the “not yet”

The second constitutive element of hope is the awareness of the “not yet”. It does not seem very difficult to have this; however, hope demands a clear awareness not so much of what is evil and unjust, as of what is lacking in the stature of Christ in time, and, therefore, of what is unjust and sinful and also of what is immature, partial or stunted in building the Kingdom.

This supposes, as a frame of reference, a clear knowledge of the divine plan of salvation, onto which the critical and discerning capacity of the one who hopes is grafted. Thus any critique by a person of hope is not simply psychological or sociological but transcendent, according to the theological sphere of the “new creature”; it also makes use of the contributions of the human sciences, and far surpasses them.

With the awareness of the “not yet”, those who hope perceive what is evil, what is not yet mature, what is a seed for the Kingdom of God and are committed to the growth of what is good and to fighting sin with the historical perspective of Christ. The ability to discern the “not yet” is always measured by the certainty of the “already”. Therefore, and I would say especially in difficult times, those who hope urge and stir up their faith to discover the signs of God’s presence and the mediations that guide us into the sphere that he has traced out. This is a very important quality today: knowing how to identify seeds to help them sprout and grow.

How can one hope if there is not this capacity for discernment? It is not enough to know how to perceive the full weight of evil. We must also be sensitive to the spring “that shines around us”. So in these times, which we call difficult times (and they really are, comparing them with those with a degree of tranquillity that we experienced earlier), hope helps us to perceive that there is also so much good in the world and that something is growing.

Salvific industriousness

A third constitutive element of hope is its need to be put into action accompanied by a concrete commitment to sanctification, inventiveness and apostolic sacrifice. We must collaborate with the “already” that is growing. We need to act urgently and fight against evil in ourselves and in others, especially in needy youth.

The discernment of the “already” and the “not yet” needs to be translated into practice in life, opening up to resolutions, plans, revision, inventiveness, patience and constancy. Not everything will turn out “as we hoped”: there will be failures, setbacks, falls, misunderstandings. Christian hope also naturally shares in the darkness of faith.

5.1.4 The “fruits” of Don Bosco’s hope

Some particularly significant fruits for the Salesian spirit of Don Bosco derive from the three constitutive elements of hope which I have just indicated.

Joy

Joy derives from the first constitutive element – the certainty of the “already” – as the most characteristic fruit. All true hope explodes into joy.

The Salesian spirit takes on the joy of hope through an affinity all its own. Even biology suggests some examples. Youth, which is human hope (and thus suggests a certain analogy with the mystery of Christian hope), is eager for joy. And we see Don Bosco translate hope into an atmosphere of joy for the youth to be saved. Dominic Savio, raised at his school, said, “We make holiness consist in being very cheerful.” It is not a superficial cheerfulness typical of the world but an inner joy, a substrate of Christian victory, a vital harmony with hope, which explodes in joy. A joy that ultimately proceeds from the depths of faith and hope.

There is little to do. If we are sad, it is because we are superficial. I understand that there is a Christian sadness: Jesus Christ experienced it. In Gethsemane his soul was saddened to death, he sweated blood. This is certainly another kind of sadness.

However, the affliction or melancholy through which a Sister gets the impression of not being understood by anyone, that others do not take her into consideration, that they are envious or misunderstand her qualities, etc., is a sadness that must not be fed. This must be contrasted with the depth of hope: God is with me and loves me; what does it matter if others don’t consider me so much?

Joy, in the Salesian spirit, is a daily atmosphere; it stems from a faith that hopes and from a hope that believes, in other words from the dynamic quality of the Holy Spirit that proclaims in us the victory that overcomes the world!… Joy is essential if we are to witness to what we believe and hope in.

This is what the Salesian spirit is, first and foremost, and not something reduced to mere observance and mortification. Hope will also lead us to practise mortification, but as flight training and not as prison jabs! So: from hope, so much joy!

The world tries to overcome its limitations and disorientation with a life filled with exciting sensations. It cultivates the promotion and satisfaction of the senses, a spicy film, eroticism, drugs, etc. It is a way of escaping from a fleeting situation that seems to make no sense, to seek something that borders on a “caricature of transcendence”.

Patience

Another “fruit” of hope – which comes from the awareness of the “not yet” – is patience. Every hope entails an indispensable gift of patience. Patience is a Christian attitude, intrinsically linked with hope in its “not yet” quality with its troubles, its difficulties and its darkness. Believing in the resurrection and working for the victory of faith, while being mortal and immersed in the transient, demands an inner structure of hope that leads to patience.

The most sublime expression of Christian patience was what Jesus experienced especially during his passion and death. It is a fruitful patience, precisely because of the hope that fuels it. Rather than initiative and action, patience involves conscious acceptance and virtuous passivity that endures so that God’s plan may be accomplished.

Don Bosco’s Salesian spirit often reminds us of patience. In the introduction to the Constitutions, Don Bosco recalls, alluding to Saint Paul, that the pains we must endure in this life do not compare with the reward that awaits us. He used to say, “So take heart! When patience would falter, let hope sustain us!”[27] “the hope of a reward is what buoys up our patience.”[28]

Mother Mazzarello also insisted on this. One of her first biographers, Maccone, states that hope always comforted her by supporting her in her sufferings, her infirmities, her doubts, and cheered her up at the hour of death: “Her hope was very alive and active. It seems to me” a Sister testified “that she was animated by hope in everything and that she tried to instil this in others. She urged us to carry the small daily crosses well, and to do everything with great purity of intention.”[29]

Hope is the mother of patience and patience is the defence and shield of hope.

Pedagogical sensitivity

From the third constitutive element of hope – “salvific industriousness” – comes another fruit: pedagogical sensitivity. It is an initiative of appropriate commitment, both in the context of one’s own sanctification (following Christ), and in the context of the salvation of others (mission). It involves practical, measured and constant commitment, translated by Don Bosco into a concrete methodology that involves attention to the following:

prudence (or holy “cunning”): when it comes to initiatives, to solving problems, Don Bosco tries everything without pretending to be perfect but with humble practicality; he often said, “The best is the enemy of the good”.[30]

Boldness. Evil is organised, the children of darkness act intelligently. The Gospel tells us that the children of light must be more cunning and courageous. Therefore, to work in the world we must arm ourselves with genuine prudence, that is, with the “auriga virtutum” that makes us agile, timely and penetrating in the application of true fearlessness for the good.

Magnanimity. We must not confine our gaze within the walls of our house. We have been called by the Lord to save the world; we have a more important historical mission than astronauts and scientists do… We are committed to the full liberation of humankind. Our soul must be open to very broad perspectives. Don Bosco wanted us to be “at the forefront of progress” (and when he said this he meant communications media).

We know the magnanimity of Don Bosco in launching youth into apostolic responsibilities; think, for example, of the first missionaries who left for America. Both the Salesians and the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians were little more than boys and girls!

Don Bosco operated within expansive horizons. Neither Valdocco nor Mornese was enough for him; he could not remain only within the confines of Turin, Piedmont, Italy or Europe. His heart beat with the heart of the universal Church, because he felt almost invested with the responsibility of saving all the needy youth of the world. He wanted the Salesians to feel that the most urgent and biggest youth issues of the Church were their own, so they could be available everywhere. And, as he cultivated magnanimity in his plans and initiatives, he was concrete and practical in their implementation, with a sense of gradualness, and modest beginnings.

So magnanimity must always radiate from the face of the Salesian as a mark of sympathy: Salesians must not be narrow-minded without vision, but have greatness of soul because hope abides in their hearts.

Péguy, with his somewhat violent acumen, wrote: “A capitulation is in essence an operation in which one begins to explain instead of implementing. Cowards have always been people of many explanations.” The mysticism of decision and the humble courage of practicality must always radiate from the Salesian face, as a mark of sympathy. Don Bosco was determined in being committed to good, even if he could not begin with the best; he said that his works perhaps began in disorder and then tended towards order!

Hope brings the joy of divine sonship to the face of the Salesian, in addition to deep contemplation, the enthusiasm of gratitude and optimism that stem from “faith”. It also instils the courage to take initiative, the spirit of patience and sacrifice, the wisdom of gradual pedagogy, the visionary ideals of magnanimity, the humility of practicality, the wisdom of cunning, and the smile of joy.

5.2 God’s faithfulness: to the very end

So far we have taken a look at what Don Bosco and our Saints and Blesseds have clearly expressed in their lives. These are things that urge each of us personally and as a Salesian Family to bring forth or – to take up the words of Fr Egidio Viganò – to make shine the hope we are called to “give our reasons” for, especially to young people and, among them, the poorest.

The time has come to “peek” a little beyond what is “immediately visible” and try to understand what lies ahead in our lives and gives us the courage to wait diligently as we work together for the coming of the “day of the Lord”.

Therefore, and continuing to take up the candid and poignant analysis of the Seventh Successor of Don Bosco, let us focus our attention on the perspective of the “reward”.

The diamond of “reward” is placed with four others on the back of the cloak worn by the character in the dream. It is almost a secret, a force that operates from within, which gives us the impetus and helps us to support and defend the great values seen on the front. It is interesting to note that the diamond of “reward” is placed under the one of “poverty” because it certainly is related to the “privations” linked to it.

On its rays we read the following words: “If the rich reward attracts you, do not be afraid of the many hardships.” “Whoever suffers with me will rejoice with me.” “Whatever we suffer on earth is momentary, the joys of my friends in Heaven are eternal.”

The true Salesian has the vision of the reward in their imagination, in their heart, their desires, their horizons of life , as the fullness of the values proclaimed by the Gospel. This is why “he is always cheerful. He radiates this joy and is able to educate to the happiness of Christian life and a sense of celebration.”[31]

 There was a lot of talk about Heaven in Don Bosco’s house and in our Salesian houses. It was a permanent and ever present idea summarised in some famous sayings: “Bread, work and Paradise”[32]; “A piece of Paradise will make up for everything”.[33] These were recurrent sayings in Valdocco and Mornese.

Certainly many Daughters of Mary Help of Christians will remember the description Mother Henriette Sorbonne gave of the spirit of Mornese: “Here we are in Paradise, in the house there is an atmosphere of Paradise!”[34] And it certainly wasn’t because of privations or lack of problems. It was like the spontaneous translation, sprung from the heart, of the sign that Don Bosco had put up: “Servite Domino in laetitia”[35].

Dominic Savio had also perceived the same warm and transcendent atmosphere of life: “We make holiness consist in being very cheerful.”[36]

In the Lives of Dominic Savio, Francis Besucco and Michael Magone, Don Bosco, even when describing their death throes, sought to stress this ineffable joy, combined with a true yearning for Paradise. Much more than the horror of death, his boys felt the attraction of Easter joy.

The thought of reward is one of the fruits of the presence of the Holy Spirit, that is, of the intensity of faith, hope and charity, all three together, although it is more closely linked to hope. It instils a joy and gladness in the heart that comes from above and are beautifully attuned to the innate tendencies of the human heart. We can see this as we live among boys and girls: young people instinctively understand more clearly that human beings are born for happiness.

But we don’t even need to go looking for it among the young. Let’s pick up a mirror and look at ourselves: we just have to listen to the beating of our heart. We are born to achieve happiness, we expect it even without confessing it.

The idea of Paradise, always there in Don Bosco’s house, is not a utopia for naive deceptions. It is not the carrot that tricks the horse into trotting, but the substantial yearning of our being; and it is above all the reality of the love of God, of the resurrection of Jesus Christ at work in history; it is the living presence of the Holy Spirit that urges us toward the reward.

Don Bosco did not despise any of young people’s joys. On the contrary, he gave rise to them, increased them, developed them. The famous “cheerfulness” which holiness consists of is not only an intimate joy, hidden in the heart as the fruit of grace. This is the root of it. It is also expressed externally, in life, in the playground and in the sense of celebration.

How he prepared for religious solemnities, name days and feast days at the Oratory! He was even busy organising the celebrations for his name day, not for himself but to create an atmosphere of joyful gratitude in the surroundings.

Let’s think about courageous autumn walks: two or three months to prepare them, 15 or 20 days to experience them; then the extended memories and comments: a joy spread out over time. What imagination and courage! From Turin to Becchi, to Genoa, to Mornese, to many towns in Piedmont, with dozens and dozens of young people… Outings, games, the music, singing, theatre: these are substantial elements of the Preventive System which, also as a pedagogical method, embrace an appropriate and dynamic spirituality, the result of a convinced faith, hope, and charity, heavenly values right here on earth.

Heaven was always overlooking the firmament of Valdocco, day and night, with or without clouds. Witnessing to the values of reward today is an urgent prophecy for the world and especially for youth. What has the techno-industrial civilisation brought to the consumer society? A huge possibility of comfort and pleasure, with a consequent heavy sadness.

Among other things, we read in the Constitutions of the Salesians of Don Bosco – but it applies to every Christian – that “the Salesian [is] a sign of the power of the resurrection” and that “in the simplicity and hard work of daily life” he is “an educator who proclaims to the young ‘new heavens and a new earth’, awakening in them hope and the dedication and joy to which it gives rise.”[37]

In Mornese and Valdocco there were neither comforts nor dictatorships and everything breathed spontaneity and joy. Technical progress has facilitated many things today, but the true joy of human beings has not increased. Anguish has grown instead, nausea, a lack of meaning in life has become more acute, something unfortunately that we continue to observe – especially in affluent societies – in the tragic statistics of adolescent and youth suicides.

Today, in addition to the material poverty that still afflicts a very large portion of humanity, it is urgent to find a way to help young people see the meaning of life, the higher ideals, the originality of Jesus Christ.

Happiness, a fundamental human tendency, is sought, but the right path to it is no longer known, and then immense disillusionment grows.

Young people, also due to the lack of significant adults, feel unable to face suffering, duty and constant commitment. The problem of fidelity to ideals and one’s own vocation has become crucial. Young people feel unable to accept suffering and sacrifice. They live in an atmosphere in which the separation between love and sacrifice triumphs, so that the pursuit and achievement of wealth alone ends up stifling the ability to love and, therefore, to dream of the future.

Rightly, as we said, the diamond of reward is placed below the one of poverty, as if to indicate that the two complement and support each other. In fact, evangelical poverty entails a concrete and transcendent vision of the whole reality with a realistic perspective also regarding renunciation, suffering, setbacks, privation and pain.

What is the inner energy that allows one to face everything confidently and with a cheerful countenance, without getting discouraged? It is, ultimately, the sense of heaven’s presence on earth. This sense proceeds from faith, hope and charity, which enables us to reread our whole life with the perspective of the Holy Spirit.

The world urgently needs prophets who proclaim  the great truth of Paradise with their lives. Not some alienating escape, but an intense and stimulating reality!

Therefore, in the spirit of Don Bosco, there is a constant concern to cultivate familiarity with Paradise, almost as if to constitute the firmament of the mind, the horizon of the Salesian heart: we work and struggle, sure of a reward, looking towards our Homeland, the house of God, the Promised Land.

It should be made clear that the prospect of the reward does not consist, in some reductionist way, in the attainment of a kind of “recompense”, some kind of consolation for a life lived amidst so many sacrifices, so much endurance… None of this! If it were just “recompense,” it would resemble blackmail. But God doesn’t work that way. In his love he can only offer human beings himself. This – as Jesus says – is eternal life: the knowledge of the Father. Where “knowing” means “loving”, becoming fully partakers of God, in continuity with earthly existence lived “in grace”, that is, in love for God and for our brothers and sisters.

We are invited to turn our gaze to Mary in this journey, who appears as daily help, Mother, forerunner and helper. Don Bosco was sure of her presence among us and wanted signs that remind us of it.

He built a Basilica for her, a centre for the animation and dissemination of the Salesian vocation. He wanted her image in our settings; he bound every apostolic initiative to her intercession and commented with emotion on her real and maternal effectiveness. We recall, for example, what he said to the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians in the house at Nizza Monferrato: “Our Lady is truly here, here among you! Our Lady walks in this house and covers it with her mantle.”[38]

In addition to her, we also look for other friends in God’s house. Our Saints and Blesseds, starting with the faces that are most familiar to us and that are part of the so-called “Salesian garden”.

We are not making these choices to divide the great house of God into small private apartments, but rather to feel more easily at home and be able to speak of God, the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit, Christ and Mary, creation and history, not with the trepidation of those who have listened to the lofty lesson of a dense, difficult and even inscrutable thinker, but with that sense of familiarity and joyful simplicity with which we converse with those who have been our relatives, our brothers and sisters, our colleagues and our workmates. Some of them we have not met in life, but we feel close to them and they inspire us with particular confidence. Speaking with Saint Joseph, Don Bosco, Mother Mazzarello, Father Rua, Dominic Savio,  Laura Vicuña, Father Rinaldi, Bishop Versiglia and Father Caravario; with Sister Teresa Valsè, Sister Eusebia Palomino, etc., really is an “in house”, family conversation.

This is what the diamond of reward suggests to us: to feel at home with God, with Christ, with Mary, with the Saints; to feel their presence in our own house, in a family atmosphere that gives a sense of Paradise to the daily settings of our life.

6. WITH… MARY, HOPE AND MATERNAL PRESENCE

At the end of this commentary we can only but turn our hearts and gaze to the Virgin Mary, as Don Bosco taught us.

Hope requires confidence, the ability to surrender and trust.

In all this we have a guide and a teacher in Mary Most Holy.

She testifies to us that to hope is to trust and surrender, and it is true for this life as well as for eternal life.

On this journey Our Lady takes us by the hand, teaches us how to trust in God, how to give ourselves freely to the love passed on by her Son Jesus.

The direction and the “navigation map” that she presents us with is always the same: “Do whatever he tells you.”[39] An invitation that we take up every day in our lives.

We see the achievement of the reward in Mary.

Maria embodies the attractiveness and concreteness of the Reward in herself:

“on the completion of her earthly sojourn, [she] was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory, and exalted by the Lord as Queen of the universe, that she might be the more fully conformed to her Son, the Lord of lords and the conqueror of sin and death.”[40]

On her lips we can read some beautiful expressions from Saint Paul. Since they are inspired by the Holy Spirit, Mary’s Spouse, they are certainly shared by her.

Here they are:

“It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us. Who will separate us from the love of Christ?  Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”[41]

Dear sisters and brothers, dear young people,

Mary Help of Christians, Don Bosco and all our Saints and Blesseds are close to us in this extraordinary year. May they accompany us in living the demands of the Jubilee at depth, helping us to place the person of Jesus Christ “the Saviour announced in the gospel, who is alive today in the Church and in the world”[42] at the centre of our lives.

May they encourage us, following the example of the first missionaries sent by Don Bosco, to make our lives always and everywhere a free gift for others, especially for the young and among them the poorest.

Finally, a wish: that this year the prayer for peace, for a peaceful humanity, may grow in us. Let us invoke the gift of peace – the biblical shalom – which contains all others and finds fulfilment only in hope.

My warmest best wishes,

Father Stefano Martoglio S.D.B.

Vicar of the Rector Major

Rome, 31 December 2024

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[1] francis, Spes Non Confundit. Bull of indiction of the Ordinary Jubilee for the Year 2025, Vatican City, 9 May 2024.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Cf. Rom 8:39.

[4] Rom 5:3-5

[5]Roman Missal, LEV, Rome 2020³, 240.

[6] BYUNG-CHUL HAN, El espìritu de la esperanza, p.18, Herder, Barcelona 2024. The translator, however, has translated here from the Italian text in front of him, with some reference also to the English translation of The Spirit of Hope, Polity Press, 2024 (an e-book version).

[7] C. PACCINI – S. TROISI, Siamo nati e non moriremo mai più. Storia di Chiara Corbella Petrillo, Porziuncola, Assisi (PG) 2001.

[8] GABRIEL MARCEL, Philosophie der Hoffnung, Munich, List 1964.

[9] ERICH FROMM, La revolucìon de la esperanza, Ciudad de México 1970.

[10] 1 Pet 3:15.

[11] Francis, Spes Non Confundit, 9.

[12] Jn 17:3.

[13] Cf. Rom 4:18.

[14] BENEDICT XVI, Encyclical Letter Deus Caritas Est, Vatican City 25 December 2005, 1.

[15] SDB C. 3.

[16] THOMAS AQUINAS, Summa theologiae, IIª-IIae q. 17 a. 8 co.

[17] Cf.  E. LEVINAS, Totalità e infinito. Saggio sull’esteriorità, Jaca Book, Milano 2023.

[18] For these reflections I drew on the rich reflection of the Abbot General of the Order of Cistercians M.   G. LEPORI, Capitoli dell’Abate Generale OCist al CFM 2024. Sperare in Cristo available in several languages at: www.ocist.org

[19] Cf. Rom, 5:3-5

[20] E. VIGANÒ, Un progetto evangelico di vita attiva, Elle Di Ci, Leumann (TO) 1982, 68-84.

[21] Cf.  E. VIGANÒ, The Salesian according to Don Bosco’s dream of the ten diamonds, in ASC 300 (1981), 3-37. The complete account can be found in ASC 300 (1981), 40-44; or in BM XV, 147-152.

[22] BM VIII, 200.

[23] SDB C. 18.

[24] p. braido (ed), Don Bosco Fondatore “Ai Soci Salesiani” (1875-1885). Introduzione e testi critici, LAS, Roma 1995, 159 (Don Bosco’s ‘To the Salesian Confreres’ from which this is quoted, is also an appendix to the SDB Constitutions and Regulations).

[25] BM VI, 249.

[26] MB VI, 227.

[27] BM XII, 332.

[28] Ibid, 331.

[29] F. MACCONO, Santa Maria Domenica Mazzarello. Confondatrice e prima Superiora Generale delle FMA. Vol. I, FMA, Torino 1960, 398.

[30] BM X, 418.

[31] SDB C. 17.

[32] BM XII, 443.

[33] BM VIII, 200.

[34]Quoted in E. VIGANÒ, Rediscovering the spirit of Mornese, in ASC (1981), 62.

[35]Ps 99.

[36] BM V, 228.

[37]SDB C. 63. See also E. VIGANÒ, “Giving reason for the joy and commitments of hope, bearing witness to the unfathomable riches of Christ”. Strenna 1994. Rector Major’s Commentary, Institute of the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians, Rome 1993.

[38] G. CAPETTI, Il cammino dell’Istituto nel corso di un secolo. Vol. I, FMA, Roma 1972-1976, 122.

[39] Jn 2:5.

[40] LG, 59.

[41] Rom 8:34-39.

[42] SDB C. 196.

From time to time, Divine Providence would reveal the future before the very eyes of Don Bosco, thus revealing the progress the Salesians would make in future times in the vast field of missionary work. Again in 1885, a revealing dream informed him of God’s design for a remote future. Don Bosco told of this dream and commented on it to the assembled Chapter on the evening of July 2nd. Father Lemoyne hastened to write down what he heard:

It seemed that I stood before a high mountain. At the summit, a magnificently radiant angel who lit up the remotest corners of the horizon stood. A giant crowd of unknown people had gathered all around the mountain.
The angel held a sword that blazed like a flame in his right hand, and he pointed out the surrounding countryside to me with his left. He said, “Angelus Arphaxad vocat vos as proelianda bella Domini et ad congregandos populos in horrea Domini [The Angel of Arphaxad summons you to wage the battles of the Lord and to gather all peoples into His granaries.]” He did not utter these words in a commanding voice, as he had done on other occasions, but instead as if he were making a proposal.
A wonderful crowd of angels, whose names I did not know or cannot remember, surrounded him. Among them, I saw Louis Colle, who was surrounded by a crowd of younger people. He was teaching how to sing the praises of God, which he himself was singing.
A great number of people lived all around the mountain and on its slopes. They were talking among themselves, but I did not know their language and could not understand them. I only understood what the angel was saying. I cannot describe what I saw. There are things that you can see and understand, and yet they cannot be explained. At the same time, I saw isolated things all simultaneously, and these changed the scene that was before me to the point that it now looked like the plains of Mesopotamia.
Even the mountain on which the Angel of Arphaxad stood assumed a myriad of different characteristics at every moment, until the people living on it looked like mere drifting shadows.
Throughout this pilgrimage and in the face of this mountain, I felt as if I were being elevated above the clouds and that an infinite void surrounded me. Who could find words to describe that height, the spaciousness, the light, the radiance, or the vision before me? One could delight in it, but not describe it.
In this and other scenes, there were many people who accompanied and encouraged me. They also encouraged the Salesians not to stop along the road. Among those who eagerly urged me onward were our dear Louis Colle and a band of angels who echoed the canticles of the youths gathered around Louis.
Then I thought I was in the heart of Africa in an immense desert. Written on the ground in gigantic, transparent letters was one word: Negroes. Here stood the Angel of Cam, who said, “Cessabit maledictum [the curse will stop] and a balmy salve and the blessing of their labor shall descend upon His sorely-tired children and honey shall heal the bites of the serpents. Thereafter, all the sins of the children of Cam will be covered.” All of these people were naked.
Finally, I thought I was in Australia. Here, too, there was an angel, but he had no name. He shepherded and marched, urging the people to march toward the south. Australia was not a continent, but a number of islands grouped together, whose inhabitants varied in temperament and appearance. There was a big crowd of children
living there who tried to come toward us, but could not because of the distance and the waters that separated them from us.
Nevertheless, they held out their hands towards Don Bosco and the Salesians, saying, “Come and help us! Why do you not fulfill what your fathers have began?” Many held back, but others made every possible effort to push their way through wild animals to reach the Salesians, who were unknown to me, and they began to sing “Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini [blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord].” A little distance away, I could see groups of many islands, but could not distinguish any details. I felt that all this indicated that Divine Providence was offering part of this evangelical field to the Salesians, but for some future period. Their efforts will bear fruit, for the hand of God will be constantly outstretched over them, unless they become unworthy of His graces.
If only I could preserve some fifty of the Salesians we have with us now! They would be able to see the magnificent destiny Divine Providence has reserved for us within a five-hundred-year span from now, provided we remain steadfast.
Within 150 or 200 years, the Salesians would be the masters of the whole world.
We shall always be well liked, even by malevolent people because our particular activity is one that arouses benevolence in everybody, good and bad alike. There may be a few hotheads who would prefer to see us destroyed, but these will only be isolated incidents and will not find any support from others.
It all depends on whether the Salesians will resist the desire for comforts and will thereby shirk their work. Even if we were only to maintain what we have already founded, we would have a long-standing guarantee, provided we do not become victimized by the vice of gluttony.
The Salesian Society will prosper in a material sense if we uphold and spread the Bulletin and the institution of the Sons of Mary Help of Christians. These we will uphold and spread. Many of these dear children are so good! The institution of the Sons of Mary will provide us with valiant confreres, who are steadfast in their vocation.

These are the three things that Don Bosco saw most distinctly, recalled  best, and reported on them that first time. But as he told Father John Baptist Lemoyne later on, he had seen a good deal more. He had seen all the countries where the Salesians would be summoned as time went on,  ut he saw them fleetingly, completing a rapid journey that started out from a given locality and returned to it again. He said it all happened just in a flash. Nevertheless, as he covered this immense distance in the blink of an eye, he had seen whole regions, inhabitants, seas, rivers, islands, customs and a thousand other things all interwoven. The scenes changed so rapidly that it was impossible to describe them all. But there was barely a distinct recollection left in his mind of this phenomenally fantastic itinerary. He was, therefore, not able to give any detailed account of it.
It had seemed to him that there were many people with him who encouraged him and the Salesians not to stop along the way. Among those who encouraged him to move forward with the greatest fervor was Louis Colle, about whom he wrote to his father on August 10th: “Our friend Louis took me on a tour through the heart of Africa, ‘the land of Cam,’ he called it, and through Arphaxad; that is, China. If Our Lord shall so dispose that we meet, we shall have a lot to talk about.”

The following is the description of Don Bosco’ s itinerary when he traveled through a circular area in the southern part of the globe, as Father Lemoyne declared he had heard it from his very lips:

He set out from Santiago, Chile. He saw Buenos Aires, Sao Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, Cape of Good Hope, Madagascar, the Persian Gulf, the Banks of the Caspian Sea, Sennaar, Mount Ararat, Senegal, Ceylon, Hong Kong, Macao at the mouth of the infinitely vast sea and facing the gigantic mountain from which one could see China. Then, the Chinese Empire, Australia, and the Diego Ramirez Islands. He ended his trip by returning to Santiago, Chile, once again. In his lightning-like travels, Don Bosco distinguished islands, territories and nations scattered all over the different degrees of latitude and many areas that were barely inhabited or altogether unknown. He could not recall the exact names of many of the places he had glimpsed at in his dream. Macao, for example, was called “Meaco” in his narration.
He talked of some of the more southern latitudes visited in America with Captain Bove; but the officer had not rounded the Magellan’s Cape for want of funds, and was obliged to turn back on his voyage for various reasons, and so he was unable to clarify matters for Don Bosco.

We would say something about the enigmatic Angel of Arphaxad.
Don Bosco had no idea of who he was prior to his dream, but later talked about it rather frequently. He instructed the cleric Festa to look for the word in Biblical dictionaries, history and geography books and periodicals, so that he might know with what people of the earth the presumptive person was connected. At last, he believed he had found the key to the mystery in the first volume of Rohrbacher, who states that the Chinese are descendants of Arphaxad.
His name appears in the tenth chapter of the Book of Genesis in the genealogy of Noah’s sons, who divided the world amongst themselves after the flood. In Verse 22, we find: “Filii Sem Aelam et Assur Arphaxad et Lud Gether et Mes [The sons of Sem are: Elam, Addur, Aphaxad, Lud and Aram].” Here, as in other portions of the vast ethnographical panorama, the individual names indicate the ancestors of different races, and reference is made to the regions they inhabited. Thus, Aelam means “highland,” and refers to Elam, which became a province of Persia with Susiana.
Assur was the ancestral father of the Assyrians. Exegetes do not agree about the population to which reference is made in the third instance.
Some, such as Vigouroux Gust to quote one of the better known names), held that Arphaxad should be connected with Mesopotamia. At any rate, since he is listed among the ancestors of Asiatic peoples immediately after two other people who occupied the most extreme eastern border of the land described in the Mosaic document, one may well believe that Arphaxad indicated a nation connected with the area of those preceding it, and which later spread still further east. It would not be improbable, therefore, to see that the Angel of Arphaxad stands for the Angel of China.
Don Bosco fixed his attention on China, and said he believed it would not be long before the Salesians would be summoned there. In fact, once he added, “If I had twenty missionaries to send to China, I am sure that they would be given a triumphant welcome, despite the persecutions.” So, from that time on, he always took a keen interest in all that concerned the Celestial Empire.
He frequently thought about this dream and was always glad to talk about it, considering it as a confirmation of his previous dreams about the missions.

(BM XVII 593-598)

Don Bosco’s dream on the eve of the missionaries’ departure for America is an event rich in spiritual and symbolic significance in the history of the Salesian Congregation. During that night between 31 January and 1 February, Don Bosco had a prophetic vision emphasising the importance of piety, apostolic zeal, and total trust in divine providence for the success of the mission. This episode not only encouraged the missionaries but also strengthened Don Bosco’s conviction about the need to expand their work beyond the Italian borders, bringing education, support, and hope to the younger generations in distant lands.

Meanwhile, the eve of Bishop Cagliero’s departure had arrived. All that day, the idea that Bishop John Cagliero and the others going so far away, and the knowledge of the absolute impossibility that he could accompany them to the place of embarkation as he had done on other occasions, and even that it might even be impossible to say goodbye to them in the church of Mary Help of Christians, caused Don Bosco a great deal of emotion which, at times, left him depressed and certainly exhausted.
On the night of January 31st, Don Bosco had a dream just like the one he had had about the Missions in 1883. He told Father John Baptist Lemoyne about it, who immediately wrote it down:

“I thought that I was accompanying the missionaries on their journey. We talked briefly before setting out from the Oratory. They were gathered around me and asked for advice. I think I said to them, ‘Neither with science, nor good health, nor riches, but with zeal and piety you’ll be able to do a great deal of good to promote God’s glory and the salvation of souls.’
“We had been at the oratory only a little while before, and then without knowing how we had gone there or by what means, we found ourselves in America almost immediately. At the end of the journey, I found myself alone in the heart of an immense prairie located between Chile and Argentina. All my dear missionaries had scattered here and there over the infinite expanse. I wondered as I looked at them why they seemed so few to me. After all the Salesians I had sent to America on several expeditions, I had expected to see a greater number of missionaries. But then I remembered that it only seemed as if there were so few of them, because they were scattered in so many different places, like seeds that have to be transplanted for cultivation and multiplication.
“I saw a great many long, long roads in that prairie and a number of houses scattered along the routes. These roads were not like the roads we have here, nor were the houses like the ones we know in this part of the world. They were mysterious, I might say – spiritual houses. There were vehicles, means of transportation, moving along the roads, and as they moved, they assumed a thousand fantastic different forms and aspects, all of them wonderful and magnificent, so that I could not define or describe a single one of them. I looked with wonder and saw that when these vehicles were driven near to any group of dwellings, villages, or cities, they soared into the air, so that anyone traveling in them would see the roofs of the houses beneath them although these houses were very tall. Many of them were below the level of the roads that had run along the ground level through the wasteland, but suddenly became airborne as they reached inhabited areas, almost creating a magic bridge. From the bridges, one could see the people living in the houses, people in the playgrounds and streets, or on their farms in the countryside, busily working.
“Each of these roads led to one of our missions. At the far end of one very long road which came from the direction of Chile, I saw a house [All the topographic indications prior to and after this would seem to indicate the house at Fort Mercedes on the left bank of the Colorado River] where there were many Salesians engaged in scientific pursuits, practices of piety, and various trades, crafts and agricultural activities. To the south lay Patagonia. In the opposite
direction, I could see in one single glance all our houses in the Argentine Republic. I could also see Paysandu, Las Piedras and Villa Colon in Uruguay. I could see the School of Niteroy in Brazil and a number of other schools scattered in the various provinces of that same empire. Finally to the west, another long, long road that crossed rivers, seas and lakes leading to unknown lands. I also saw Salesians there, too. I looked very carefully and noticed only two of them.
“Just then, a man of noble, handsome appearance appeared at my side. He was pale and stout, so closely shaven that he seemed beardless although he was a grown man. He was dressed in white, wearing some kind of cloak of rose-colored material, interwoven with golden threads. He was altogether resplendent. I recognized him as my interpreter.”
“‘Where are we?’ I asked, pointing to this territory.”
“‘We are in Mesopotamia,’ my interpreter said.”
“‘In Mesopotamia?’ I echoed, ‘but this is Patagonia.’”
“‘I tell you that this is Mesopotamia,’ the other said.”
“‘And yet … and yet … I cannot believe it.’”
“‘That is what it is. This is Me-so-po-ta-mia,’ the interpreter repeated, spelling it out so that it might well be impressed on my mind.’”
“‘Why do I see only so few Salesians here?’”
“‘What is not there now, it will be in the future,’ the interpreter said.”
“I was standing motionless in the prairie, scanning all those interminable roads, and contemplating quite clearly, but inexplicably, all the places the Salesians were then and were going to be later. How many magnificent things did I not see! I saw each individual school. I saw as if they were all concentrated in one place, all the past, present and future of our missions. Since I saw all of it as a whole in one single glance, it is extremely difficult, indeed altogether impossible, for me to give you even the most vague idea of what it was that I saw. What I saw in that prairie of Chile, Paraguay, Brazil, and the Argentine Republic, would in itself
require an immense volume, just to give a few overall pieces of information about it.
“In that immense plain, I also saw all the savages who lived scattered in that territory of the Pacific, down to the gulf of Ancud, the strait of Magellan, Cape Horn, the Diego Islands, and the Malvinas. All this was a harvest awaiting the reaping by the Salesians. I saw that as of now, the Salesians were only sowing, but that those coming after them would reap. Men and women will swell our ranks and become preachers. Their children who, so now it seems, cannot possibly be won over to our faith will themselves become evangelizers of their parents and friends. The Salesians will succeed in everything with humility, work, and temperance.
“All that I saw in that moment and later concerned all the Salesians: regular settlements in those territories; their miraculous expansion; and the conversion of many natives and many Europeans settled there. Europe will stream into South America. European trade began to decline from the very moment that Europeans began stripping their churches, and it has continued to decline more and more ever since. Hence, workers and their families, driven by their own poverty, will go and seek their fortune in those new hospitable lands.
“Once I saw the area assigned to us by Our Lord as well as the glorious future of the Salesian Congregation, I had the impression that I was setting out on a journey again, this time on my way back to Italy. I was carried at an extremely rapid pace along a strange road, which was at a very high level, and in an instant, I found myself above the Oratory. The whole of Turin was beneath my feet and the houses, palaces and towers looked like so many low huts to me, for I was so high up. Squares, streets, gardens, avenues, railways, and the walls of the city to the countryside and adjacent hills, the cities, the towns of the Turin Province, and the gigantic chain of the Alps all covered with snow lay spread out beneath my gaze like a stupendous panorama. I saw the boys down below in the Oratory and they looked like so many little mice. But there was an immense number of them; priests, clerics, students, and master craftsmen were evident everywhere. A good many of them were setting out in procession while others were coming in to fill the ranks where the others had gone forth.
“It was one constant procession.
“They all went thronging to the immense prairie between Chile and Argentina to which I myself had now returned in the twinkling of an eye. I stood watching them. One young priest who looked like our Father Joseph Pavia, though he was not, came toward me.
“With his affable manner, courteous speech, candid appearance and boyish complexion, he said, ‘Behold! These are the souls and the territories assigned to the sons of St. Francis of Sales.’”
“I was amazed by such an immense multitude, all gathered there, but it disappeared in an instant and I could barely detect the direction they had all taken in the far distance.
“I must point out that as I relate it, my dream is described only in the summarized form, and that it is impossible to specify the exact chronological order of all the magnificent sights that appeared before me and of all the secondary features. My spirit is incapable, my memory forgetful, my words inadequate. Apart from the mystery in which everything I saw was shrouded, the scenes before me alternated. At times, they were interlocked and repeated according to the variations of amalgamation, division or departure of the missionaries, and the way in which the people they have been called upon to convert to the faith gathered around them or moved away from them. I repeat: I could see the past, the present and the future of the missions with all their phases, hazards, triumphs, defeats or momentary disappointments concentrated as in one single whole; in a word, all the things that will be connected with the Apostolate. At the time, I could understand everything quite plainly, but now it is impossible to unravel these intricate mysteries, ideas and people one from another. It would be like trying to cram into one single narrative and sum up in one sole instance or fact the whole panorama of the firmament, relating the motion, splendor and properties of all the stars with their individual laws and reciprocal aspects; one star by itself would supply enough material for the concentration and study of the most formidable brain. I again must point out that here it is a question of things having no connection with material things.
“Now resuming my narrative, I repeat that I stood bewildered as I saw this great multitude disappear. At that moment, Bishop John Cagliero stood beside me. A few missionaries were at some short distance away. Many others stood around me with a fair number of Salesian cooperators. Among them I saw Bishop Espinosa, Dr. Torrero, Dr. Caranza and the Vicar General of Chile. [Perhaps thus alludes to Bishop Domingo Cruz, Capitular Vicar of the diocese of Conception.] Then my usual interpreter came over to me, talking with Bishop John Cagliero and a number of others, and we tried to ascertain whether all this had meaning.
“Most kindly my interpreter said, ‘Listen and you will see.’”
“At that same moment, the whole immense plain turned into a big hall. I cannot describe exactly how it looked in its splendor and richness. The only thing I can say is that if anybody tried to describe it, he would not be able to withstand its splendor, not even with his imagination. It was so immense that it escaped the eye, nor could one see where its sidewalls were; no one could have estimated its height. The roof ended with immense arches, very wide and magnificent, and no one could see what supported them. There were neither columns nor pillars. It rather looked as if the cupola of this immense hall was made of the finest candid linen, something like tapestry. The same applies to the floor.
“There was neither illumination, nor the sun, moon, or stars, though there was a general brilliance distributed evenly everywhere. The very candor of the linen blazed and made everything visible and beautiful so that one could see every ornament, every window, every entrance and exit. There was a most beautiful fragrance all around formed by a mixture of the loveliest aromas.
“Just at that moment, I became aware of something phenomenal.
“There were many tables of extraordinary length arranged in every direction, but all converging towards one focal point. They were covered with refined tablecloths, and on them were crystal bowls in which many various kinds of flowers were arranged handsomely.
“The first thing that struck the attention of Bishop John Cagliero was that there are tables here, but no food.
“Indeed, there was no food and nothing to drink visible on them, nor were there any dishes, goblets or any other receptacle in which one might place food.
“Then my friend the interpreter spoke, ‘Those who come here, neque sitient, neque esurient amplius’ (they will never thirst or feel hungry anymore).
“As he said this, people began to stream in, all clothed in white with a simple ribbon of rose hue embroidered with golden threads around the neck and shoulders. The first to enter were small in number, only a few together in small groups.
“As soon as they entered, they went to sit at a table set for them and sang, ‘Hurrah!’”
“Behind them, other more numerous groups advanced singing ‘Triumph!’ Then a great variety of people began to appear: old and young; men and women of all ages; of different colors, appearances, and attitude, and one could hear canticles on every side. They sang, ‘Hurrah!’”
“Those already seated sang ‘Long live!’ and those entering sang ‘Triumph!’ Each group that entered represented yet another nation or section of a nation which will be converted by our missionaries.”
“I glanced at those infinitely long tables and saw that there were many of our nuns and confreres sitting there and singing, but they did not have anything to show that they were priests, clerics or nuns for all of them wore the same white robe and rose-colored ribbon. But my wonder grew when I saw men of rough appearances dressed the same as the others who sang ‘Long live! Triumph!’”
“Just then, our interpreter said, ‘The foreigners, the savages who drank the milk of the divine word from those who educated them, have become heralds of the word of God.’”
“I also saw many boys of strange and rough appearance in the crowds and I asked, ‘Who are these boys whose skin is so rough that it looks like that of a toad, and yet at the same time it is beautiful and of a resplendent color?’”
“The interpreter replied, ‘They are the children of Cam who have not relinquished the heritage of Levi. They will strengthen the ranks of the armies defending the kingdom of God that has appeared in our midst at last. Their number was small, but the children of their children have made it larger. Now listen and you will see, but you will not be able to understand the mysteries placed before you.’ These boys belonged to Patagonia and to the southern part of Africa.
“Just then, there were so many people streaming into this amazing hall that every seat seemed taken. The seats and benches did not have any specific form, but assumed whatever shape the individual wanted. The seating was satisfactory to everyone.
“Just as everyone was shouting ‘Hurrah!’ and ‘Triumph!’ on all sides, an immense crowd appeared to join the others, and sang, ‘Hallelujah, glory, triumph!’ When it looked as if the hall were entirely full and no one could have counted all the thousands of people present, there was a profound silence, and then the multitude began singing in different choirs:
“The first choir sang, ‘Appropinquavit in nos regnum Dei: laetentur Coeli et exultet terra. Dominus regnavit super nos. Alleluia’ (The kingdom of God has come among us. Let the heavens and the earth rejoice. The Lord has reigned over us).
“The second choir sang, ‘Vincerunt et ipse Dominus dabit edere de ligno vitae et non esurient in aeternum. Alleluia’ (They won and the Lord Himself shall give them food from the tree of life and they shall never go hungry).
“A third choir sang, ‘Laudate Dominun omnes gentes, laudate eum omnes populi’ (Praise the Lord all you nations, praise Him all you peoples).
“While they were alternately singing these hymns, a profound silence suddenly fell once more. Then one heard voices from high up and far away. No one could possibly describe the harmony of this new canticle. Solo Deo honor et gloria in saecula saeculorum (To God alone honor and glory forever).
“Other voices still higher up and further away replied to these other voices, ‘Semper gratiarum actio illi qui erat, est, et venturus est. Illi eucharistia, illi soli onor sempiternus’ (Forever thanks to Him who was, is, and will come. To Him alone thanksgiving and honor).
“These choirs seemed to descend from their high level and draw nearer to us. I also noticed Louis Colle among the singers.
Everyone else in the hall also began to sing, joining in, blending voices, sounding like an exceptional musical instrument with sounds with an infinite resonance. The music seemed to have a thousand different high notes simultaneously and a thousand degrees of range which all blended into one single vocal harmony. The high voices of those singing soared so high that one could never have believed it. The voices of the singers in the hall were sonorous, fully rounded and so deep that one could not believe that either. All together they formed one single chorus, one sole harmony, but both the high notes and the low were so fine and beautiful and penetrated so deeply through all the senses and were absorbed by them that one forgot his very existence, and I fell on my knees at the feet of Bishop John Cagliero and exclaimed, ‘Oh, Cagliero! We are in Paradise.’”
“Bishop John Cagliero took me by the hand and answered, ‘This is not Paradise, but only a pale image of what Paradise really will be.’”
“Meanwhile, the voices of the two magnificent choirs continued singing in unison in indescribable harmony: ‘Soli Deo honor et gloria, et triumphus alleluia, in aeterum in aeterum!’”
“Here I quite forgot myself and I no longer know what happened to me. I found it difficult to rise from my bed next morning, and as soon as I came to my senses, I went to celebrate Holy Mass.
“The main thought which was impressed on me after this dream was to warn Bishop John Cagliero and all my beloved missionaries of something of the greatest importance regarding the future of our missions: all the efforts of both the Salesians and the Sisters of Mary Help of Christians should concentrate on cultivating vocations for the priesthood and religious life.”
(BM XVII, 273-280)

            Don Bosco told this dream on September 4, at the morning session of the general chapter. Father Lemoyne immediately put it into writing, which Don Bosco critically read from beginning to end, making some additions and modifications. We will record in italics those words which are in Don Bosco’s hand in the original; we shall enclose in brackets some passages introduced later by Father Lemoyne as reflections based upon further explanations given him by Don Bosco.

            On the night before the feast of St. Rose of Lima [August 30], I had a dream. I was aware that I was sleeping, and at the same time I seemed to be running very, very much, so much that I was exhausted with running, talking, writing, and wearing myself out in carrying out the rest of my other regular responsibilities. While I was deliberating whether this was a dream or reality, I seemed to enter a recreation hall where I found many people standing about and discussing various topics.
            A lengthy conversation centered on the hordes of savages in Australia, the Indies, China, Africa, and more especially America, who in countless numbers are presently entombed in the darkness of death.
“Europe,” said one of the speakers with much conviction, “Christian Europe, the great mistress of civilization and Catholicism, seems to have lost all interest in the foreign missions. Few are those who have enough enthusiasm to brave long journeys and unknown lands to save the souls of millions of people redeemed by the Son of God, Jesus Christ.”
Another said, “How many idolaters in America alone live miserably outside the Church, far from the knowledge of the Gospel. People keep thinking (and geographers keep deceiving them) that the American Cordillera31 is like a wall blocking off that huge section of the world. It is not so. That interminable chain of lofty mountains contains many plains a six hundred and more miles in length alone. In them are forests as yet unexplored. plants, and animals. and also ores rarely found elsewhere. Coal, oil, lead, copper, iron, silver, and gold lie hidden in those mountains where they were secreted by the all-powerful hand of the Creator for the good of humanity. 0 Andes, Andes, how steeped in wealth is your eastern flank!”
At that moment I felt an urgent desire to ask for an explanation of many things and to find out who those persons gathered there were, and where I was.
But I said to myself, Before speaking you must find out what kind of people these are. In all curiosity I gazed about at them. Practically all of these people were total strangers to me. In the meantime, as though they were seeing me for the first time, they invited me to step forward and welcomed me kindly.
            I asked them, “Please tell me where we are. Are we in Turin, London, Madrid, or Paris? Where are we? Who are you? With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” But they all gave me vague answers while they kept talking about the missions.
During this time I was approached by a young man of about sixteen, fascinating for his superhuman beauty and aglow with a brilliance more intense than that of the sun. His garment was woven with heavenly richness, and on his head he wore a cap shaped like a crown studded with the most sparkling precious stones. Fixing his kindly gaze upon me, he showed keen interest in me. His smile reflected a love that had its own irresistible attraction. He called me by name, then took my hand and began speaking to me about the Salesian Congregation.
I was thrilled by the sound of his voice. At one point I interrupted him and asked, “With whom do I have the honor of speaking? Do me the kindness of telling me your name.”
The young man replied, “Don’t be worried. Speak with utter trust. You are with a friend.”
“But what is your name?”
“I would tell you my name if it were necessary, but I don’t have to because you should know me.” Saying this he smiled.
I took a better look at that countenance flooded with light. How handsome a face! And then I recognized the son of Count Fiorito Colle of Toulon, a distinguished benefactor of our house and especially of our American missions. This young man had died a short time before.
“Oh, it is you!” I exclaimed. “Louis! And who are all these others?”
“They are friends of your Salesians, and as your friend, I would like in God’s name to give you a bit of work.”
“Let’s see what you mean. What is this work?”
“Sit at this table and pull this rope.”
In the middle of that vast hall stood a table on which lay a coil of rope; it resembled a tape measure marked with lines and numbers. Later I also came to
realize that the hall itself was situated in South America, straddling the equator, and that the numbers marked on the rope corresponded to degrees of latitude.
I therefore took the end of the rope, looked at it, and saw that the tip was marked zero.
I smiled.
That angelic lad remarked, “This is no time to smile. Look carefully. What is written on the rope?”
“Zero.”
“Pull it a bit.”
I pulled it a little and up came the number one.
“Pull more and wrap the rope into a big coil.”
I did so, and out came the numbers 2, 3, 4, up to 20.
“Is that enough?” I asked.
“No, pull more, pull more! Pull until you find a knot,” the lad answered.
I pulled up to the number 47, where I came across a big knot. From this knot the rope continued, but it was split into smaller strands that fanned out to the east and west and south.
“Is that enough?” I asked.
“What is the number?” the youth answered.
“It’s 47.”
“What is 47 plus 3?”
“50.”
“And add 5 more?”
“55.”
“Take note: 55.”
He then told me, “Pull some more.”
“I’ve reached the end, “ I replied.
“Now then, reverse the process and pull the rope from the other end.”
I did so until I reached the number 10.
“Pull more,” the lad told me.
“There’s nothing left!”
“What? Nothing? Take a closer look. What do you see?”
“I see water,” I replied.
Indeed, at that moment I felt something very strange happening to me which I cannot explain. I was present in that hall, I was pulling that rope, and at the same time I saw unfolding before my eyes the vision of an immense country over which I was hovering like a bird in flight, and the more the cord was pulled the farther out did the view stretch.
From zero to 55 I saw a vast mainland, the end of which, after a stretch of water, broke up into a hundred islands, one of them very much larger than the others.
It seemed that the strands which came from the big knot of the rope stretched out to these islands, so that every strand was anchored to an island. Some of these islands were inhabited by fairly large numbers of natives; others were barren, empty, rocky, uninhabited; others were all blanketed in snow and ice. Toward the west were numerous groups of islands inhabited by many savages.
[It would appear that the knot situated at the number or degree of 47 symbolized the point of departure, the Salesian center, the principal mission from which our missionaries branched out to the Falkland Islands, Tierra del Fuego, and the other islands of those American countries.]
That same mainland stretched out from the opposite end of the rope, that is from zero to ten, until it reached the body of water which was as far as I could see. I thought that was the Caribbean Sea, which I was then gazing upon in a way so wondrous that I cannot describe the way I saw it.
As soon as I said, “I see water,” the young man replied, “Now add 55 and 10. What is the sum?”
“65,” I answered.
“Now join all together and you will make just one single rope.”
“And now?”
“From this side what do you see?” And he pointed to a spot on the panorama.
“To the west I see very lofty mountains, and to the east there is the sea!”
[Please note that I was then seeing a summary, in miniature as it were, of what I later saw in its real grandeur and extent, as I shall narrate. The marks numbered on the rope, each corresponding precisely to the degrees of latitude, were those which allowed me to keep in memory for several years the successive localities I visited as I travelled in the second part of this same dream.]
My young friend continued: “Very well. These mountains form a ridge or boundary. From here to there is the harvest assigned to the Salesians. Thousands and millions of people are awaiting your help, waiting for the faith.”
Those mountains were the South American Andes and that ocean was the Atlantic.
“How will we manage?” I asked. “How will we succeed in bringing all these people into the flock of Christ?”
“How will you manage? Watch!”
And in came Father Lago, who was carrying a basket of small, green figs.
“Take some, Don Bosco,” he said.
“What are you bringing me,” I replied, looking at the contents of the basket.
“I was told to bring them to you.”
“But these figs are not ready to eat; they are not ripe.”
Then my young friend took the basket, which was very broad but shallow, and gave it to me, saying, “Here is my gift to you!”
“And what am I to do with these figs?”
“These figs are unripe, but they belong to the great fig tree of life. You must find a way to make them ripen.”
“How? If they were a little bigger, … they could mature under straw, as other fruits do, but they are so small … so green. It’s impossible.”
“Well then, know that to make them ripen you have to find some way of reattaching these figs to the tree.”
“Impossible! How can it be done?”
“Watch!” And he took a fig, dipped it into a basin of blood, then immediately dipped it into another basin full of water, and said, “With sweat and blood the savages will turn back and be re-attached to the plant, thus becoming pleasing to the master of life.”
But to accomplish this will take time, I thought to myself. Then I said aloud, “I don’t know what else I can say.”
That dear youth, reading my mind, continued, “This success will take place before the second generation comes to an end.”
“Which will be the second generation?”
“Don’t count the present generation. There shall be another, and then another.”
I spoke in utter confusion, baffled, spluttering, as I heard the magnificent destiny awaiting our Congregation, and I asked, “But how many years does each of these generations include?”
“Sixty.”
“And then?”
“Do you wish to see what will happen then? Come!”
Without my knowing how, I found myself in a railroad station. A huge crowd was gathered there. We boarded a train.
I asked where we were. The young man replied, “Take notice! Watch carefully! We are traveling along the Andes. You have your road also open to the east all the way to the sea. It is another of the Lord’s gifts.”
“And when shall we go to Boston, where they’re waiting for us?”
“Everything at its own time.” Saying this, he took out a map in which the diocese of Cartagena stood out prominently. [This was the point of departure.]
As I was studying the map, the engine blew its whistle and the train began to move. As we went along my friend kept talking much, but, because of the train’s noise, I could not fully hear him. Nevertheless, I learned many very wonderful and new things about astronomy, navigation, meteorology, minerals, fauna and flora, the topography of those areas which he explained to me with marvellous precision. Meanwhile he seasoned his speech with a courteous and at the same time gentle familiarity which showed his love for me. From the very start he took my hand and kept me always very affectionately in his tight clasp to the very end of the dream. I placed my other hand lightly on his, but his hand seemed to disappear undermine as though it had evaporated, and my left hand held merely my right. The young man smiled at my useless efforts.
In the meantime I was looking out the carriage window, and I saw whiz before me various astonishing regions: forests, mountains, plains, very long majestic rivers which I could not believe to be so wide at points so far from their mouths. For more than a thousand miles we skirted the edge of a virgin forest which has not been explored even today. My gaze took on a marvellous power of vision. There were no obstacles that could block its view. I don’t know how to explain what strange phenomenon took place in my eyes. I felt like someone standing on a hilltop who sees stretching out before him a vast panorama; if he holds even a tiny strip of paper close to his eyes, he can see little or nothing, but if he drops it or moves it up or down, his gaze can reach out to the farthest horizon. This is what happened to me because of the extraordinary insight that was given to me, but the difference was this: every now and then as I set my gaze upon one spot and that one spot whizzed past me, it was as if a series of curtains were being raised and I saw stretching out before me interminable distances. Not only did I see the Andes when I was a long distance from them, but that chain of mountains even stood out in those immeasurable plains and was clearly visible to me in every tiny detail. [The mountain ranges of Colombia, Venezuela, the three Guyanas, Brazil, and Bolivia, even to their farthest boundaries.]
I was then able to verify the correctness of the words I had heard at the beginning of my dream in the grand hall straddling the equator. I could see into the very bowels of the mountains and into the remotest hidden recesses of the plains. Before my eyes lay the incomparable riches of those countries, which will one day be discovered. I saw countless mines of precious metals, inexhaustible caverns of coal, oil deposits so abundant as have never yet been discovered elsewhere. But that was not all. Between 15- and 20-degrees latitude lay a very broad and very lengthy body of water that had its origin from the end of a lake. Then a voice kept repeating to me, “When the mines hidden in the midst of these mountains will eventually be dug out, here will appear the promised land flowing with milk and honey. Its wealth will defy belief.”
But that was not all. My greatest surprise was to see how the Andes in several places reverted upon themselves and formed valleys of whose existence present day geographers have not even an idea. They think that in those areas the mountainsides are sheer walls. In those valleys and hollows, some of which extended as much as six hundred miles, lived crowded countless peoples who have not yet come in contact with Europeans, entire nations completely unknown to us.
The train kept rushing along, turning here and there and finally coming to a halt. A fair number of passengers got off at this point to continue their journey through the Andes to the west.
[Don Bosco indicated Bolivia. The station was probably La Paz, where a tunnel could open the way to the Pacific coast and link Brazil with Lima by means of a junction with another railroad.]
The train began to move again, heading always forward. As on the first leg of our journey, we traversed forests, drove through tunnels, passed over gigantic viaducts, plunged into narrow mountain gorges, skirted lakes and marshes on bridges, forded wide rivers, hurtled over grasslands and prairies. We passed along the banks of the Uruguay River. I always thought it was a short river, but instead it is very long. At one point I saw the Parana River wending its way to the Uruguay as though it were bringing it the tribute of its waters; but, after somewhat paralleling it for a stretch, it pulled away, forming a huge elbow.
Both these rivers were enormous. [From these sketchy descriptions it would seem that this future railroad line would go from La Paz to Santa Cruz, then head through the only opening which is to be found in the Cruz della Sierra mountains and is crossed by the Guapay River; it will ford the River Parapetf in the Chiquitos plains of Bolivia, then cut across the extreme northern limit of the Republic of Paraguay; thence it will enter the Province of Sao Paulo in Brazil and then head for Rio de Janeiro. From some intermediate station in the Sao Paulo Province, the railroad line will then probably go between the Parana and Uruguay Rivers and connect Brazil’s capital with the Republic of Uruguay and the Republic of Argentina.]
The train kept forging its way, turning here and there, and after a long time it made a second stop. Another large number of people got off there and made their way westward through the Andes. [Don Bosco indicated the province of Mendoza in Argentina. Hence the station was probably Mendoza, and the tunnel led to Santiago, capital of the Republic of Chile.]
The train resumed its journey across the Pampas and Patagonia. The cultivated fields and the few homes scattered here and there showed that civilization was overtaking the wilderness.
At the entrance of Patagonia we passed over a branch of the Colorado River or the Chubut River [or perhaps the Rio Negro?]. I could not ascertain its flow of current or its direction, whether toward the Andes or toward the Atlantic. I kept trying to solve this puzzle but could not orient myself.
Finally we reached the Strait of Magellan. I looked all about me. We alighted. Before me lay Punta Arenas. For several miles the ground was cluttered with mounds of coal, boards, railroad ties, huge piles of minerals; the fields were partially covered with flocks, partially tilled. Long lines of freight cars filled the railroad tracks.
My friend pointed all these things out to me. Then I asked, “And now what are you trying to tell me with all this?”
He answered: “What is now merely a project will one day be reality. In time to come these savages will be so domesticated that they shall willingly come for instruction, religion, civilization, and trading. What elsewhere excites wonder among people will here assume such stupendous proportions as to arouse more astonishment than does anything else now.”
“I’ve seen enough,” I replied. “Now take me to see my Salesians in Patagonia.”
We turned back to the station and reboarded the train to return. After traveling a very long distance, the train stopped before a town of considerable size.
[Possibly on the 47th parallel, where at the very beginning of the dream I had seen the big knot in the rope.] There was no one at the station to meet me. I got
off the train and immediately found the Salesians. I saw many houses with many people in them; more churches, schools, various hospices for children and youths, artisans and farmers, and a school for girls which taught a variety of domestic arts. Our missionaries were caring for both the young and the adults.
I walked into their midst. They were many, but I did not recognize them, and none of my old sons were among them. All were looking at me in bewilderment, as though I were new to them, and I asked them, “Don’t you know me? Don’t you know Don Bosco?”
“Oh, Don Bosco! We know him by reputation, but we have only seen him in photographs. Do we know him personally? Certainly not.”
“And Father Fagnano, Father Costamagna, Father Lasagna, Father Milanesio – where are they?”
“We did not know them. They are the ones who came here long ago in the past, the first Salesians to come to these lands from Europe. But so many years have gone by since they died.”
I gasped in wonder at their reply. “But is this a dream or reality?” I clapped my hands, I felt my arms, I shook myself, and I really heard the sound of my clapping and I could feel my body, and I kept telling myself I was not asleep.
This visit was but the matter of an instant. Having witnessed the marvellous progress of the Catholic Church, of our Congregation, and of civilization in those lands, I thanked Divine Providence for graciously using me as an instrument of His divine glory and the salvation of so many souls.
Young Colle meanwhile signalled me that it was time to go back. So, we said good-bye to my Salesians and returned to the station, where the train was ready to depart. We boarded, the whistle blew, and away we headed northward.
Something new struck my sight and made me wonder. The region of Patagonia closest to the Strait of Magellan, between the Andes and the Atlantic, is not as wide as geographers claim it to be.
The train rushed along at breakneck speed, and I thought we were crossing the provinces of the Republic of Argentina which already had been civilized.
Our journey took us through a virgin forest, interminably broad and interminably long. At a certain point the train stopped and our gaze fell upon a very sorry sight indeed. A huge crowd of savages was gathered in a forest clearing.
Their faces were deformed and dirty, their bodies covered with what seemed to be animal skins sewed together. They surrounded a man who was bound and seated on a rock. He was very obese, having been deliberately fattened by the natives. The poor fellow had been taken prisoner and from the sharpness of his features seemed to belong to a different race. Hordes of savages were interrogating him, and he was telling them of the adventures he had encountered in his travels. Suddenly one of the natives arose, brandishing a shaft of iron which was well sharpened, though not a sword; he threw himself upon the prisoner and with one blow cut off his head. All the train passengers crowded at the doors and windows gazing upon the scene in horror. Colle himself was looking in silence. The victim uttered a shrill scream as he was struck. Those cannibals then threw themselves upon the body bathed in a lake of blood and, slicing it up, threw chunks of warm and still quivering flesh upon nearby fires, let them roast awhile, and then ate them half cooked. At that poor man’s scream, the train began to move and gradually resumed its breakneck speed.
For hours at a stretch it skirted the shores of a huge river. At times it was on the right bank, at times on the left. I could not tell through the window what bridges
we used to make these frequent crossings. Meanwhile along the banks here and there we spotted numerous tribes of savages. Each time we saw them, young Colle kept saying, “This is the Salesian harvest! This is the Salesian harvest!”
We then entered a region packed with wild animals and poisonous snakes of bizarre and horrifying shapes. They swarmed over the mountainsides and hill slopes; they blanketed the hilltops, the lakeshores, the riverbanks, the plains, the gullies, the cliffs. Some looked like dogs with wings and were extraordinarily bloated [gluttony, impurity, pride]. Others were gigantic toads eating frogs. We could see certain lairs full of animals different in shape from ours. All three species of animals were mixed together and snarled dully as though about to devour each other. We could also see tigers, hyenas, lions, but they were not the same as those of Asia and Africa. My companion then spoke to me. Pointing out those animals to me, he exclaimed, “The Salesians will tame them!”
The train was now approaching its starting point, and we were not far from it. Young Colle then drew out a map of astounding beauty and told me, “Would you like to see the journey you have just made? The regions we have traversed?”
“Yes, of course,” I answered.
He then explained the map on which all South America was detailed with marvellous exactness. More than that, it showed all that had been, what then was, and what would be in those regions, but without confusion, rather with such a clarity that one could instantly see all at one glance. I immediately understood everything, but, due to the onrush of so many things, that clarity lasted but an hour, and now my mind is just one big jumble.
While I was looking at that map and waiting for the youth to offer me some explanation – I was overwhelmed by the astounding things I was looking at – I thought I heard our Coadjutor Quirino ring the morning Angelus, but, on awakening, I realized I was hearing the bell strokes of the parish church of San Benigno. The dream had taken the entire night.

Don Bosco concluded his account with these words: “The Salesians will draw the people of [South] America to Jesus Christ by the sweetness of St. Francis de Sales. It will be a most difficult task to teach the savages a moral way of life, but their children will easily yield to the words of the missionaries and live in towns with them; civilization will supplant savagery, and thus many Indians will enter the flock of Jesus Christ.”
(BM XVI, 303-312)