Part I

            At the “Good Night” on August 20, 1862, Don Bosco, after giving some disciplinary reminders, addressed them as follows:

I want to tell you a dream I had some nights ago, most probably on the eve of the Assumption. I dreamed that I was at my brother’s home at Castelnuovo d’Asti with all my boys. While they were at play, a total stranger came up to me and asked me to go with him. He took me to a meadow alongside the playground and pointed to a huge, ugly snake, over twenty feet long, coiled in the grass. Frightened, I wanted to run off, but the stranger held me back. “Get closer and take a good look,” he said.
“What?” I gasped. “Don’t you realize that monster could spring on me and gobble me up in no time?”
“Don’t be afraid! Nothing of the sort will happen. Just come with me.”
“Nothing doing! I’m not crazy!”
“Then stay where you are,” the stranger replied. And he went to fetch a rope.
“Take this end,” he said on his return, “and grip it tightly with both hands. I’ll hold the other, and we’ll let it dangle over the snake.”
“And then?”
“Then we’ll snap it across its back.”
“You must be crazy! The snake will leap up and tear us to pieces.”
“No, it won’t. Leave that to me.”
“Count me out! I have no intention to risk my life for a thrill of this kind!”
Again I tried to run away, but the stranger once more assured me that I had nothing to fear because the snake would do me no harm. He talked so persuasively that I stayed on and agreed to his plan. He went around to the other side of the monster. We stretched the rope and then snapped it across the snake’s back. The monster immediately sprang up and struck at the rope, but, as it did so, it ensnared itself as in a noose.
“Hold on!” the stranger shouted. “Don’t let go!” He ran to a nearby pear tree and tied his end of the rope to it. Then he came to me and tied my end to the iron grating of a window in the house. The snake kept furiously struggling to free itself, writhing, thrashing, and flailing about. In its fury it tore itself to pieces, scattering its flesh over the area, till it was slashed to a mere skeleton.
The stranger then untied the rope and coiled it up. “Now watch very carefully!” he said as he put it into a box and closed it. By this time the boys had swarmed about me. Within a few moments he opened the box. We looked in and were astounded to see the rope shaped into the words Ave Maria. “How did that happen?” I asked.
“The snake,” the man replied, “is a symbol of the devil, whereas the rope stands for Ave, Maria or, rather, the rosary, a succession of Hail Marys with which we can strike, conquer, and destroy all of hell’s demons.”
What I’ve told you so far  – Don Bosco concluded –  is the first part of the dream. What followed is even stranger and m re amazing, but it’s too late to tell you now. I’ll leave it for tomorrow. In the meantime let us give thought to what that stranger said about the Hail Mary and the rosary. Let us devoutly say a Hail Mary whenever we are tempted, and we’ll be sure to win. Good night.

            Since Don Bosco gave no interpretation of this dream, we shall volunteer a few comments.
            The pear tree is the same one to which Don Bosco, as a boy, often used to tie one end of a tightrope as he got ready for the acrobatic performances with which he enticed his peers to a catechism lesson. Seemingly, we may see this tree as an image of the tree in Chapter 2, verse 3 of the Canticle of Canticles: “As an apple tree among the trees of the words, so is my lover among men.” Tirino and other famous biblical commentators hold that this apple tree stands for any fruit tree. Hence, the fruit tree, with its delightful, refreshing shade, is a symbol of Jesus and His cross, the source of effective prayer and certain victory. Possibly this may be the reason why one end of the rope, so fatal to the snake, was tied to the pear tree. The other end, secured to the iron grating of a window, can mean that the mission of spreading devotion to the rosary was entrusted to the one that dwelt in that home and to his [spiritual] sons.
            Don Bosco had promptly understood that.
            He first began the annual celebration of Our Lady of the Rosary at Becchi. Then he directed that in all his schools pupils should daily recite five decades of the rosary. Finally, in his sermons and writings he strove to restore this ancient practice in families. He looked upon the rosary as a weapon which would bring victory not only to individuals but to the Church as well. That is why his [spiritual] sons published all the encyclicals of Leo XIIl on this prayer so beloved by Mary and, through the Bollettino Salesiano, warmly promoted the desires of the Vicar of Jesus Christ [concerning the establishment of the Confraternity of the Rosary in all parishes].

Most Reverend Father (Don Rua),

            Having returned to Rome from the Eucharistic Congress in Naples, I learn with much pleasure that the exhortation directed to the Parish Priests in the Salesian Bulletin is beginning to bear fruit. I therefore offer my best thanks to Your Excellency, and I assure you that you have done a work well pleasing to the Holy Father, who so much desires that his Encyclicals on the Rosary be kept alive, through the erection of the Confraternity under the same title.
            To the sentiments of gratitude I add one more prayer; and that is that from time to time I renew the memory with a few lines to the parish priests and Rectors of Churches, so that forgetfulness may not cause them to lose sight of the foundation of the Confraternity of the Holy Rosary.
            And may God always prosper Your Venerable Mother, of whom I remain
                        Most Venerable Servant in G. Maria

                        Rome, Palazzo S. Uffizio, 27 November 1891.
                        † Fr. VINCENZO LEONE SALLUA, Gle. Comm.
                        Archbishop of Chalcedon.

Part II

            The following day, August 22, we again pestered him to tell us, at least privately, the part of the dream he had not revealed. He did not want to change his mind, but after much insistence on our part, he finally relented and promised that he would tell us more that evening.
At the “Good Night” he spoke as follows:

            Yielding to your repeated entreaties, I shall tell you the second part of the dream or at least what little I can. First, I must make it clear that no one is to write or talk about it outside this house. Discuss it among yourselves, laugh at it, do as you wish, but only among yourselves.
Now, while talking with that stranger about the rope, the snake, and what they symbolized, I turned around and saw boys picking up scraps of snake meat and eating them. “What are you doing?” I shouted. “Are you mad? That meat is poisonous!”
“It’s delicious!” they replied.
And yet, no sooner had they swallowed it than they would crumple to the ground and their bodies would swell and harden like stone. I was helpless because, despite this, more and more boys kept eating that meat. I shouted and yelled at them, and even slapped and punched them to keep them from eating, but in vain. For every one who crumpled to the ground, another took his place. Then I called the clerics and told them to go among the boys and do all they could to make them stop eating that meat. My order was ineffective; worse yet, some clerics themselves began to eat it and they too fell to the ground.
Nearly out of my mind at seeing so many boys lying about me in such a pitiful state, I turned to the stranger. “What does this mean?” I asked. “These boys know that this meat will kill them, yet they eat it. Why?”
“Because ‘the sensual man does not perceive the things that are of God.’ That’s why!” he answered.
“But isn’t there some way of saving these boys?”
“Yes, there is.”
“What?”
“Anvil and hammer.”
“Anvil and hammer? What for?”
“To put the boys back in shape!”
“You mean I am to put them on an anvil and strike them with a hammer?”
“Look,” the stranger said “this whole thing is a symbol. The hammer symbolizes confession, and the anvil symbolizes Holy Communion. These are the remedies you must use.” I went to work and found the treatment very effective, but not for all. While most boys were restored to life and recovered, a few did not because their confessions were bad.

            After the boys had retired to their dormitories, I (Provera) asked Don Bosco privately why his order to the clerics had proved ineffective. “Because not all obeyed,”he replied. “Worse yet, some even ate that meat.”

On the whole, these dreams represent real life. Along with Don Bosco’s words and deeds, they reveal the state of things in any average community where the most outstanding virtues are matched by deplorable weaknesses. This comes as no surprise, because evil unfortunately tends to spread far more readily than virtue. Consequently, constant vigilance is necessary. It may be said that it would have been better to play down or even eliminate more disgusting details, but we disagree. If history must properly fulfill its noble mission and teach life, it must describe the past as it happened, so that future generations may not only draw inspiration and courage from the noble examples of preceding ages, but also learn through their failings and errors how they must act themselves. A one-sided report of historic facts can lead only to distorted views. When suppressed and unacknowledged, mistakes and failings will repeat themselves, while a misguided apologia will neither help the favorably disposed nor make the hostile change their views. Only uninhibited frankness will generate belief and trust.
To speak our mind fully, we shall add that, while giving explanations which better met the boys’ intellectual level, Don Bosco let it be known that he passed over other details of no less account because they probably did not concern them. In fact, in his dream he outlined not only the present but the future, as in the dream The Wheel of Eternity 1 and in others we shall later narrate.
The poisonous meat of that monstrous snake might well symbolize scandal which destroys one’s faith, or immoral, irreligious readings. Likewise, what else might disobedience, collapsing, swelling up, and hardening signify but pride, obstinacy, and love of sin?
These are the evil effects of the deadly poison fed them by that accursed food, by that dragon described by Job and identified by the Fathers of the Church as a figure of Lucifer. “His heart shall be as hard as stone.” (Job 41, 15) Indeed, the hearts of those poisoned wretches become rebellious and obstinate in sin. What cure is there for such hardness? Don Bosco used a somewhat obscure symbolism which basically pointed to supernatural aid.
We are inclined to explain it thus: The prayers and sacrifices of the just must first ask that God’s grace warm hardened hearts and soften them so that the sacraments of Penance and Holy Eucharist-the hammer and the anvil on which the metal is shaped into lasting art before it is tempered-may exercise their divine efficacy. Thus the hammer’s blows and the anvil’s support will both bring about the cure of an ulcer-ridden but now docile heart. As the sparks fly, the heart is reconditioned.

            We now resume our narrative. Certain that with Mary’s protection he could withstand and overcome hell’s attacks, Don Bosco prepared his pupils to celebrate the feast of Our Lady’s Nativity.

On August 29 he gave the first nosegay for the novena. He also personally gave the next five on successive evenings. Bonetti recorded them in his chronicle:

1. Let us all strive to commit no sin whatever during this novena.
2. Let us give a friend some good advice.
(On the following evening he set an example himself by suggesting that we make necessary sacrifices to overcome bad habits while we are still young and urging us to have the greatest confidence in our superiors in both spiritual and material matters.)
3. Those who have never made a general confession should consider doing so; those who have should recite an act of contrition for all the sins of their past life.
4. He told us of Father Cafasso’s reply to a menial laborer who had asked him what would most please Our Lady. “What pleases mothers most?” he questioned the man in turn.
“When we show our love for their children.”
“Good,” Father Cafasso went on. “You are right. Therefore, if you want to please the Madonna, love Her Divine Son first by receiving Him in Holy Communion, and then by keeping your heart free of all sin, even venial.” This was Father Cafasso’s reply, and now I pass it on to you.
5. Tomorrow do your best in church not to sit back on your heels or on the pew behind you or anything like that. I say this to those who have this habit. To all I suggest this nosegay: Speak Italian [instead of your dialect] and remind those who forget.
6. Show perfect obedience in everything. Tomorrow let’s see to it that we don’t have to be reminded about house rules and our chores.
If you’re told to do something special, obey promptly and readily.
I assure you that this will be the most welcome flower we can offer Our Heavenly Mother. In this way we shall deserve to be called Her children. As a loving Mother, She will teach us the holy fear of God, as She Herself promises through Holy Scripture: “Come, children, hear Me; I will teach you the fear of the Lord.”[Ps. 33, 12]
(BM VII, 143-1493)

            Here is the dream that saw Don Bosco decide to start the missionary apostolate in Patagonia.
            He narrated it for the first time to Pius IX in March 1876. Later he repeated the story to some Salesians in private. The first to be admitted to this confidential narration was Fr Francesco Bodrato, on 30 July of the same year. And Fr Bodrato told Fr Giulio Barberis on that same evening in Lanzo, where he had gone to spend a few days of leisure with a group of cleric novices.
            Three days later, Fr Barberis went to Turin, and being in the library in conversation with the saint, walking a bit with him, he also heard the story. Fr Giulio was careful not to tell him that he had already heard it, happy to hear it repeated from his own lips, also because Don Bosco, in telling these stories, always had some new interesting detail each time.
            Fr Lemoyne also learned it from Don Bosco’s lip; and both Fr Barberis and Fr Lemoyne put it in writing. “Don Bosco,” Fr Lemoyne said, “told them that they were the first to whom he revealed this kind of vision in detail, which we recount here almost in his own words.”

            I seemed to be in a wild region I had never before seen, an immense untilled plain, unbroken by hills or mountains, except at the farthest end, where I could see the outline of jagged mountains. Throngs of naked, dark-skinned, fierce-looking, long-haired men of exceptional height and build swarmed all over this plain. Their only garments were hides strung across their shoulders. Their weapons were long spears and slings.
            These throngs, scattered about, presented varied sights to the spectator: some men were hunting, others were carrying bloodied chunks of meat at spear point, still others were fighting among themselves or with European soldiers. I shuddered at the sight of corpses lying all over the ground. Just then many people came into sight at the far edge of the plain. Their clothing and demeanor told me they were missionaries of various orders who had come to preach the Christian faith to these barbarians. I stared intently at them but could recognize no one. They strode directly to those savages, but the latter immediately overwhelmed them with fiendish fury and hatred, killing them, ripping them apart, hacking them into pieces, and brandishing chunks of their flesh on the barbs of their long spears. Now and then, fighting broke out again among the savages or against neighboring tribes.
            After witnessing this horrible bloodshed, I said to myself: How can one convert so brutal a people? Then I saw a small band of other missionaries, led by a number of young boys, advance cheerfully toward those savages.
I feared for them, thinking, They are walking to their death. I went to meet them; they were clerics and priests. When I looked closely at them, I recognized them as our own Salesians. I personally knew only those in front, but I could see that the others too were Salesians.
How can this be? I exclaimed. I did not want them to advance any further because I feared that soon their fate would be that of the former missionaries. I was about to force them back when I saw that the barbarians seemed pleased by their arrival. Lowering their spears, they warmly welcomed them. In utter amazement I said to myself: let’s see how things will turn out! I saw that our missionaries mingled with them and taught them, and they docilely listened and learned quickly. They readily accepted the missionaries’ admonitions and put them into practice.
            As I stood watching, I noticed that the missionaries were reciting the rosary as they advanced, and that the savages, closing in from all sides, made way for them and joined in the prayers.
After a while, our Salesians moved into the center of the throng and knelt. Encircling them, the barbarians also knelt, laying their weapons at the missionaries’ feet. Then a missionary intoned: Praise Mary, Ye Faithful Tongues, and, as with one voice, the song swelled in such unison and power that I awoke, partly frightened.
I had this same dream four or five years ago, and it sharply impressed me because I took it as a heavenly sign. Though I did not thoroughly grasp its specific meaning, I understood that it referred to the foreign missions, which even at that time were one of my most fervent aspirations.

            I understood that it referred to the foreign missions, which even at that time were one of my most fervent aspirations.

Thus the dream dated back to about 1872. At first Don Bosco believed that it referred to the tribes of Ethiopia, later to the regions around Hong Kong. and finally to the aborigines of Australia and of the [East] Indies. It was only in 1874, when, as we shall see, he received most pressing requests to send Salesians to Argentina, that he clearly understood that the natives he had seen in his dream lived in Patagonia, an immense region then almost entirely unknown.
(BM X, 46-48)

Don Bosco’s dream of 2 September 1868

            This is how Don Bosco spoke in the evening after prayers:

            It’s hard to understand, but whenever we begin a novena, some boys ask to leave the Oratory, and others must be dismissed. Take one youngster, for instance. He was the worst troublemaker of all, but various reasons kept us from expelling him. Would you believe it? Some mysterious force just drove him to leave on his own.
            Now let us talk of something else. Imagine that you see me coming through the main entrance, walking up here and facing a majestic Lady who holds a ledger in Her hands. Without my saying a word, She hands it to me and says:
            “Read!”
             I take it and read the title, Novena of Mary’s Nativity. Then I open the book and see in letters of gold, on the very first page, the names of a very few boys. The second page bears a somewhat longer list of boys’ names in ordinary ink. All the other pages are blank.
Now, can anyone tell me what this means?
            (He asked one boy and helped him with the answers.)
            The ledger contains the names of the boys making the novena. Those very few boys listed in gold letters are those who are making it fervently. The rest are those who are making it with less fervour. What about all the other boys whose names are not even listed? How do you explain that? I believe that the long walks we had [during the past festivities] so distracted these boys that they can no longer pull themselves together. What would Dominic Savio, Besucco, Magone, or Saccardi say if they were to come back now? “How the Oratory has changed! ”they would exclaim.
            To please Our Lady, therefore, let us receive the sacraments frequently and practice the nosegays which Father Francesia or I suggest every night. Let this be tomorrow’s nosegay: “Do everything diligently.”
(BM IX, 158)

Don Bosco’s dreams are gifts from on high to guide, warn, correct, encourage. Some of them were set down in writing and have been preserved. One of these – made at the beginning of the saint’s mission – is the dream about the pergola of roses, which he had in 1847. We present it in full.

             Don Bosco first related it himself seventeen years later in 1864 when one night, after prayers, as was his custom at times, he gathered the members of his [infant] Congregation in his anteroom for a conference. Among those present were Father Victor Alasonatti, Father Michael Rua, Father John Cagliero, Father Celestine Durando and [the two clerics] Joseph Lazzero and Julius Barberis. After speaking of detachment from the world and from one’s own family to follow Our Lord’s example, he continued:
            I have already told you of several things I saw as in a dream. From them we can infer how much Our Lady loves and helps us. But now that we are all together alone, I am going to tell you not just another dream, but something that Our Lady herself graciously showed me. I am doing this that each of us may be convinced that it is Our Lady Herself who wants our Congregation. This should spur us to work ever harder for God’s greater glory. She wants us to place all our trust in Her. I am taking you into my confidence. Please do not mention what I tell you to anyone else in this house or to outsiders, lest you give evil tongues occasion to wag.

            One day in 1847, after I had spent much time reflecting on how I might help others, especially the young, the Queen of Heaven appeared to me. She led me into a beautiful garden. There stood there a rustic but wide and charming portico built as a vestibule. Its pillars were dressed with climbing vines whose tendrils, thick with leaves and flowers, stretched upward together and knitted a graceful awning. The portico opened on a lovely walk that soon became, as far as the eye could see, a breathtakingly beautiful pergola, whose sides were lined with enchanting roses in full bloom. The ground too was covered with roses. The Blessed Virgin said to me: “Take off your shoes!” When I had done so, She added: “Walk under that rose pergola, for this is the path you must take.”
            I gladly removed my shoes because it would have been a pity to step on such gorgeous roses. I took but a few steps and immediately felt very sharp thorns piercing my feet and making them bleed. I had to stop and turn back.
             “I had better wear my shoes,” I told my guide.
             “Yes, indeed,” She replied, “sturdy ones.” So I put my shoes on again and returned to the rose pergola, followed by a number of helpers who had just showed up and asked to go along with me. They followed me under the indescribably beautiful pergola, but as I went along I noted that it was becoming narrow and low. Many of its branches were draped like festoons; others instead just dropped straight down. Some branches, here and there, jutted sideways from the rose stalks, while others formed a thicket which partly blocked the path; still others crept along the ground. All the branches, however, were thick with roses. There were roses about me, roses above me, and roses under my feet.
            As my feet made me wince with pain, I could not help brushing against the roses at my sides, and even sharper thorns pricked me. But I kept walking. My lacerated legs, though, kept getting entangled in the lower branches. Whenever I pushed aside a bough barring my way, or skirted the sides of the pergola to avoid it, the thorns dug into me and made me bleed all over. The roses overhead also were thick with thorns which pricked my head. Notwithstanding, I went forward, encouraged by the Blessed Virgin. Now and then, however, some sharper thorns pierced me more than others and caused greater pain.
            Meanwhile those who were watching me walk under that bower – and they were a crowd – passed comments, such as, “How lucky Don Bosco is! His path is forever strewn with roses! He hasn’t a worry in the world. No troubles at all!” But they couldn’t see the thorns that were piercing my poor legs. I called on many priests, clerics, and laymen to follow me, and they did so joyfully, enthralled by the beauty of the flowers. When, however, they discovered that they had to walk over sharp thorns and that there was no way to avoid them, they loudly began complaining, “We have been fooled!”
            I answered: “If you are out for a nice time, you had better go back. If not, follow me.”
Many turned back. After going on for a while, I turned to look at my followers. You cannot imagine how I felt when I saw that some had disappeared and others had already turned back and were walking away. I went after them and called them back, but it was useless; they would not even listen to me. Then I broke into tears and wept unrestrainedly as I asked myself: “Must I walk this painful path all alone?”
            But I was soon comforted. I saw a group of priests, clerics and laymen coming toward me. “Here we are,” they said. “We are all yours and ready to follow you.” So I led them forward. Only a few lost heart and quit; most of them followed me through.
            After walking the whole length of the pergola I found myself in another enchanting garden, and my few followers gathered around me. They were exhausted, ragged and bleeding, but a cool breeze healed them all.
            Another gust of wind came and, like magic, I found myself surrounded by a vast crowd of boys, young clerics, coadjutor brothers and even priests, who began helping me care for all those boys. Many of these helpers I knew, but many more were strangers.
            Meanwhile I had come to a higher spot in the garden, where a very imposing, majestic building stood. I entered and found myself in a spacious hall so grandiose that I doubt one could find its like in any royal palace. Fresh thornless roses, set all through the hall, filled it with a most delicate fragrance. The Blessed Virgin, who had been my guide all along, now asked me: “Do you grasp the meaning of what you now see and of what you saw before?”
             “No,” I said. “Please explain it to me.”
            She replied: “The path strewn with roses and thorns is an image of your mission among boys. You must wear shoes, a symbol of mortification. The thorns on the ground stand for sensible affections, human likes and dislikes which distract the educator from his true goal, weaken and halt him in his mission, and hinder his progress and heavenly harvest.
            The roses symbolize the burning charity which must be your distinguishing trait and that of your fellow workers. The other thorns stand for the obstacles, sufferings and disappointments you will experience. But you must not lose heart. Charity and mortification will enable you to overcome all difficulties and lead you to roses without thorns.”
As soon as the Mother of God finished speaking, I awoke and found myself in my room.
            Don Bosco understood the purport of the dream and concluded by saying that from then on he knew exactly the path he had to follow. Already known to him were the obstacles and snares with which his adversaries would attempt to block his progress. Many would be the thorns on his path, but he was sure, absolutely sure, of God’s will in the matter and of the ultimate success of his great undertaking.
            The dream also warned him not to be discouraged by the defection of some who seemed called to help him in his work. Those who first deserted him were priests and laymen who in the early days of the festive oratory had volunteered to help him. Those who came later were his own Salesians, and the wind symbolized the forthcoming divine assistance and comfort. On a later occasion Don Bosco revealed that this dream or vision was repeated in 1848 and in 1856, each time under slightly different circumstances, which we have integrated in our narration to avoid repetitions.
(BM III, 25-28)

In 1884, while in Rome, a few days before returning to Turin, Don Bosco had two dreams that he transcribed into a letter that he sent to his beloved sons and boys in Valdocco. It is known as “The Letter from Rome” and is one of the most studied and commented on texts. We are offering the full, original text for your reading.

My most beloved children in Jesus Christ:
I am always thinking of you, whether I am near you or far away. I have only one wish and that is to see you happy in this world and eternity. It was this thought, this desire, that induced me to write you this letter. My dear boys, I feel the weight of being away from you and not seeing you, not hearing you, causes such a pain for me that you can hardly imagine. That was why I would have liked to write you this letter a week ago, but all the things I had to do prevented me. Nevertheless, although there are now only a few days left before my return home, I want to anticipate my return among you at least by means of a letter, not being able to do it in person. It is one who loves you tenderly in Jesus Christ who writes to you, and it is his duty to speak to you with the liberty of a father. You will allow me to do this, will you not?
And you will be attentive and will put into practice what I am now about to tell you.
I have told you that you are the one and constant thought of my mind. On one of these past evenings, I had gone to my room, and while I was getting ready for bed, I had begun to say the prayers that my dear mother had taught me. Just then, I do not know whether sleep overcame me or whether something distracted me, but it suddenly seemed that two former boys from the Oratory appeared before me.
One of them came up to me, greeted me affectionately and said, “Oh, Don Bosco! Do you recognize me?”
“Yes, I recognize you,” I answered.
“Do you still remember me?” the other asked.
“I remember you and all the others. You are Valfre and you attended the Oratory prior to 1870.”
“Listen,” he said then, “would you like to see the boys who were at the Oratory in my day?”
“Of course! Show them to me,” I said. “I would be delighted.”

So Valfre showed me the boys and they all looked the same. They were the same height and age as I had known them then. I thought I was in the old Oratory at recreation time. It was a picture full of life, full of movement and merriment. Boys were running, skipping and jumping. Some were playing leapfrog and others were playing ball. In one corner, there was a cluster of boys avidly listening to a priest, who was telling a story. In another corner, a cleric was playing flying donkey and trades with another cluster of boys. People were singing and laughing everywhere and there were clerics and priests with cheerful boys gathered around them. It was obvious that the utmost cordiality and familiarity existed between the boys and their superiors.
I was mesmerized by that spectacle, and Valfre said to me, “You see, familiarity breeds affection, and affection breeds confidence. This is what opens up their hearts and the boys reveal everything to their teachers, assistants and superiors. They are frank in their confession and outside of it, and docile and obedient to anything they are told to do by someone they know is honestly fond of them.”
Just then, the other former pupil, who now had a white beard, came up to me and said, “Don Bosco, would you now like to see and know the boys who live at the Oratory today?” This was Joseph Buzzetti.
“Yes,” I answered. “It is already a month since I saw them last.”
He pointed them out to me. I saw the Oratory and all of you at recreation, but I no longer heard the shouts of joy, singing or the lively animation that I had just seen before.
Sadly, boredom, weariness, sullenness, and diffidence were evident on the boys’ faces and in their actions. It is true that I saw a good many of them running and playing, but I also saw a good many more who were standing alone and leaning against the pillars, prey to disquieting thoughts. Other boys had withdrawn from the general recreation to sit on the stairs, the corridors or on the balconies overlooking the garden. Others strolled slowly in groups, talking softly among themselves, casting suspicious or malicious glances around them. Here and there, someone smiled, but such smiles were accompanied by glances that not only aroused suspicion, but also the conviction that had St. Aloysius been in the company of those boys, he would have blushed. Even among the boys who were playing, I saw a few so listless that it was obvious that they found no pleasure in their games.
“Have you seen your boys?” the past pupil asked.
“Yes, I have seen them,” I answered with a sigh.
“How different they are today from what we were!” the former pupil exclaimed.
“Unfortunately! How listless they are at recreation!”
“This causes the indifference that many show when they receive the Holy Sacraments. They are careless in their practices of piety in church and elsewhere, and that is why they are reluctant to live in an environment where Divine Providence showers all its bounty on their bodies, souls and intellects. That is why many of them do not follow their vocation and are ungrateful to their superiors, and that is why they grow secretive and complain while other deplorable things occur as a consequence.”
“I see, I see.” I said. “But how can I restore the former vivacity, cheerfulness and expansiveness of these dear children of mine?”
“With charity!”
“With charity?2 I asked. “But are not my boys loved enough? You know that I love them. You know how much I have suffered and endured for them during the course of some forty years, and all that I am still suffering and enduring now! All the privations, humiliations, oppositions and persecution I have endured in order to provide them with food, shelter, teachers and especially in order to ensure the salvation of their souls! I have done all I could and all I know for them, who represent the love of my whole life.”
“I am not referring to you.”
“Then to whom do you refer? To those who took my place? To the directors, prefects, teachers and assistants? Don’t you see how they spend the youthful years of their lives caring for those entrusted to them by Divine Providence? Don’t you see that they are martyrs of their work and study?”
“I see it and I am aware of it, but that is not enough. The best is still missing.”
“What is it that is missing?”
“The boys must not only be loved, but they must know that they are loved.”
“Don’t they realize that everything that is done for them is done out of love?”
“No, and I repeat, it is not enough.”
“So what then is needed?” I implored.
“That they be helped to understand and love the things that are not so agreeable to them, by participation in their childish pleasures. The things that are disagreeable to them are discipline, study, and self-mortification. They must learn these things with love and enthusiasm.”
“Please explain yourself more clearly!”
“Watch the boys at recreation.”
I watched them and then said, “What special thing is there to see?”
“You do not see it, even though you have been educating boys for all these years? Look again! Where are our Salesians?”
I looked and saw that there were only a few priests and clerics mingled with the boys, while even fewer participated in their games. The superiors were no longer the animating spirit at recreation. For the most part, they strolled up and down, talking among themselves, without paying any attention to what the boys were doing. Occasionally, someone did observe some wrongdoings, but they did nothing to correct the behavior. There were some Salesians who would have liked to mingle with the boys in their groups, but I saw that some of these youngsters were studiously trying to get away from their teachers and superiors.
“Were you not always in the midst of the boys at the Oratory in the old days, especially at recreation time?” my friend asked. “Do you remember those wonderful years? It was a thing for rejoicing, like Heaven, a period upon which we shall always look back lovingly, for we were guided by affection and held no secrets from you.”
“Certainly! Everything was delightful then for me as well, and the boys were all eager to come and talk to me. They were always eager for my advice, so that they could put it into practice. But now I see that continuous audiences with others, increased business matters and my health prevent me from doing all this.”
“That is all very true, but if you are unable, why are the Salesians not imitating you? Why do you not insist and demand that the Salesians behave toward the boys the same way as you did?”
“I talk myself hoarse, but unfortunately, they do not feel like shouldering the burdens as we once did.”
“So by neglecting to do what costs them least, they lose what is most important, and waste all their efforts thereby. They must learn to love what the boys love, so that the boys may love that which is dear to their superiors. In this way, their efforts will be light. The cause of the present change in the ways of the Oratory lies in the number of boys who do not confide in their superiors. Once their hearts were like an open book before their superiors, and they loved them and obeyed them promptly. But now they look on the superiors precisely as superiors, no longer as fathers, brothers and friends. Therefore, they fear them and love them little. If there is to be but one heart and soul, then for the love of Jesus, this fatal barrier of diffidence must be broken so heartfelt trust can take its place.”
“What must be done to break down this barrier?” I asked.
“It is imperative to achieve familiarity with the boys, especially at recreation time. Without familiarity, affection cannot be shown and without affection, there cannot be confidence. He who wants to be loved has to show that he loves. Jesus Christ became little with the little ones and shouldered our own infirmities. There we have the master of familiarity. A teacher who is seen only at the teacher’s desk is only a teacher and no more, but if he joins the boys at recreation, he becomes a brother.
If one is seen only when he preaches from the pulpit, we shall only say of him that he is doing his duty, but should he utter a word or two during recreation time, his will be regarded as the word of someone who loves. How many conversions were brought about by such words whispered unexpectedly into the ear of a boy at play! Those who know they are loved give love in return, and those who are beloved, especially by children, will obtain everything. Such a feeling of confidential trust is like an electric current between the boys and their superiors! They lay bare their hearts and make their needs known and reveal their faults. A love like this will enable the superiors to endure fatigue, displeasures, ingratitude, annoyance, shortcomings and neglect on the part of the boys.
Jesus Christ did not snap the reed already bent, nor did He extinguish the smoldering wick. That’s your model! Then you’ll have no chance to see people who work for vanity, who will punish only to take revenge on their offended pride or who leave their assistance assignment out of jealousy for the overpowering ability of others. There will be no one who knocks down others in order to be loved and esteemed by the boys. Then you will not see anyone who favors one child and neglects all the other boys, someone who neglects his very serious duty to assist out of love of his personal comfort.
If there is really true love, nothing but the love of God will be sought after and the salvation of souls. When this kind of love wanes, then things will begin to go wrong. Why should charity be substituted by the coldness of a rule? Why is it that the superiors abandon the observance of those educational rules dictated to them by Don Bosco himself? Why is it that the system of preventing transgressions with vigilance and love is slowly being replaced with one of less worth? If neglected, these laws will breed contempt for the superiors and will be the cause of very serious shortcomings.
And this does happen if familiarity is missing. If the Oratory is to return to its former happiness, the former system must come back. The superior should be always ready to listen to any doubts or complaints with all eyes to supervise their behavior and all heart to look for the temporal and spiritual good of those entrusted to him by Divine Providence. Then the boys will no longer barricade their hearts. Only in cases of immoral demeanor are the superiors to be inexorable. It is better to run the risk of expelling an innocent boy than to risk retaining one that will cause a problem. The assistants must look at it as their duty to report to their superiors anything that may in any way be offensive in the eyes of God that is brought to their attention.”
Then I asked, “What is the best thing to do to make sure that a family spirit, love and trust emerge triumphant?”
“Strict observance of the house rules.”
“Nothing more?”
“The most appetizing course in any meal is a good cheer.”
As my former pupil finished speaking on this note, I continued watching the recreation with real displeasure, and little by little I was overcome by increasing fatigue. Such weariness overcame me that I could no longer endure it, so I shook myself and returned to my senses.
I found myself standing at the foot of the bed. My legs were so swollen and painful that I could no longer stand upright. It was very late, so I went to bed, determined that I would write all this to my beloved children.
I do not want to have such dreams because they tire me excessively. The next day, I felt myself aching all over and could not wait to get to bed that next evening. But as soon as I was in bed, the dream started all over again. I saw the playground, the boys who are now in the Oratory, and the same former pupil.
“I will tell the Salesians what you told me, but what am I to tell the boys at the Oratory?” I asked him.
He answered, “That they must appreciate all that their superiors, teachers and assistants are tirelessly doing out of love for them, for if it were not for their welfare, they would not shoulder such sacrifices. Tell them they must learn how to endure the faults of others, for perfection is not of this world and is found only in Paradise. They must desist from complaining because this makes the heart grow cold. Above all, that they must strive to live in the holy grace of God. He who is not at peace with God will not find peace within himself or with others.”
“Do you mean to say that among the boys there are some who are not at peace with God?”
“This is the primary cause of the malaise of which you are now aware, and which must be remedied. There is no need for me to specify such causes now. A person who has secrets to safeguard and who fears that his secrets will be discovered is the one who is distrustful. At the same time, the heart that is not at peace with God is full of anguish and is restless, intolerant of obedience, irritated over nothing and feels that everything is going wrong. And since he has no love, he feels that the superiors do not love him.”
“Yet, my friend, do you not see how often boys go to confession and communion here at the Oratory?”
“It is true that they go frequently to confession, but the thing that is radically wrong in the case of many of the boys is that they lack steadfast resolution when they go to confession. They do confess, but confess always the same faults, temptations, bad habits, acts of disobedience and neglect of their duties. They go on this way for months and months, even years, sometimes right through their fifth year of high school. Such confessions count for little or nothing at all. They, therefore, bring no peace of mind, and if a boy is summoned before the judgment of God in such a state of mind, it would fare badly for him.”
“Are there many such boys at the Oratory?” I asked.
“There are only a few in comparison with the great many boys living in the house,” he answered as he pointed them out to me.
I looked around and saw these boys, but in those few, I saw things that grieved my heart sorely. I do not want to commit them to paper, but when I return, I shall confer with those concerned. At this time, I will only say that it is now time to pray and make steadfast resolutions not only with words, but in deeds, and to show that the Comollos, the Dominic Savios, the Besuccos and  the Saccardis still live amongst us in spirit.
Finally, I asked my friend, “Have you anything else to tell me?”
“Tell all of them, old and young alike, to remember always that they are the children of Mary Help of Christians. They should remember that she brought them here to rescue them from the dangers of the world, so that they might love one another like brothers. They should give glory to God and to her with their good conduct. They must remember that it is our Lady who provides them with food and with the possibility of studying, together with countless graces and miracles. They must remember that it is now the vigil of the feast of this most holy mother of theirs, and with her assistance, the barrier of diffidence that the devil has been able to erect between the boys and their superiors to bring about the ruin of souls must come down.”
“Are we going to succeed in removing this barrier?”
“Most certainly, provided that old and young alike are willing to endure a few minor mortifications for the love of Mary and put into practice all that I have been saying.”
Meanwhile, I continued watching the boys and saw how some of them were heading for eternal damnation, and I felt so sharp a pain in my heart that I woke up. I saw many important things that I would like to tell you, but this is neither the place nor do I now have the time for it.
After all this, do you know what this poor old man, who has consumed his whole life for his beloved boys, wants from you all? Nothing more than the return of the happy days of the old Oratory when love and Christian trust between the boys and their superiors and the spirit of harmony and mutual endurance for the love of Jesus Christ prevailed. I need you to comfort me with the hope and the promise that you will do everything I wish for the benefit of your own souls. You do not realize how lucky you have been to live at the Oratory. I declare to you before God that a boy who enters a Salesian house will be immediately taken under the special protection of the Most Holy Virgin. So let us all work in harmony. The charity of those who command and must obey should ensure that the spirit of St. Francis of Sales reigns among us. Oh, my beloved children, the time is drawing near when I shall have to leave you for eternity.
[Note by his secretary: here Don Bosco stopped his dictation, his eyes filled with tears, not out of regret, but out of the infinite tenderness that was evidenced by his glance and the tone of his voice.]
I, therefore, am most anxious to leave you, my priests, clerics and most beloved children, on the road of God on which our Lord Himself wishes you to walk.
To this same end, the Holy Father (whom I saw on Friday, May 9th) sends you his sincerest blessing. I shall be with you in front of the picture of our loving Mother Mary Help of Christians on her feast day. I want this magnificent feast to be celebrated with the greatest solemnity, and I want Father Lazzero and Father Marchisio to make sure that you are cheerful, even in the dining room. This feast of Mary Help of Christians should be the prelude to the eternal feast we shall enjoy one day together in Paradise.       

Rome, 10 May 1884
Most affectionately in Jesus Christ,
Rev. John Bosco
(BM XVII, 85-94)

The series of Don Bosco’s ‘dreams’ begins with the one he had at the age of nine, around 1824. It is one of the most important, if not the most important, because it points to a mission entrusted by Providence that takes concrete form in a particular charism in the Church. Many others will follow, most of them collected in the Biographical Memoirs and taken up in other publications dedicated to this subject. We propose to present the most relevant ones in several subsequent articles.

            When I was about nine years old I had a dream that left a profound
impression on me for the rest of my life. I dreamed that I was near my home, in a very large playing field where a crowd of children were having fun. Some were laughing, others were playing and not a few were cursing. I was so shocked at their language that I jumped into their midst, swinging wildly and shouting at them to stop. At that moment a Man appeared, nobly attired, with a manly and imposing bearing. He was clad with a white flowing mantle and his face radiated
such light that I could not look directly at him. He called me by my name and told me to place myself as leader over those boys, adding the words:
“You will have to win these friends of yours not with blows, but with gentleness and kindness. So begin right now to show them that sin is ugly and virtue beautiful.”
Confused and afraid, I replied that I was only a boy and unable to talk to these youngsters about religion. At that moment the fighting, shouting and cursing stopped and the crowd of boys gathered about the Man who was now talking. Almost unconsciously I asked:
“But how can you order me to do something that looks so impossible?”
“What seems so impossible you must achieve by being obedient and  by acquiring knowledge.”
“But where, how?”
“I will give you a Teacher, under whose guidance you will learn and without whose help all knowledge becomes foolishness.”
“But who are you?”
“I am the Son of Her whom your mother has taught you to greet three times a day.”
“My mother told me not to talk to people I don’t know, unless she gives me permission. So, please tell me your name.”
“Ask my mother.”
“At that moment I saw beside him a Lady of majestic appearance, wearing a beautiful mantle glowing as if bedecked with stars. She saw my confusion mount; so she beckoned me to her. Taking my hand with great kindness she said:
“Look!”
I did so. All the children had vanished. In their place I saw many animals: goats, dogs, cats, bears and a variety of others.
“This is your field, this is where you must work,” the Lady told me. “Make yourself humble, steadfast and strong. And what you will see happen to these animals you will have to do for my children.”
“I looked again; the wild animals had turned into as many lambs, gentle gamboling Iambs, bleating a welcome for that Man and Lady. At this point of my dream I started to cry and begged the Lady to explain what it all meant because I was so utterly confused. She then placed her hand on my head and said: “In due time everything will be clear to you.”
After she had spoken these words, some noise awoke me; everything had vanished. I was completely bewildered. Somehow my hands still seemed to ache and my cheeks still stung because of all the fighting. Moreover, my conversation with that Man and Lady so disturbed my mind that I was unable to sleep any longer that night.
In the morning I could barely wait to tell about my dream. When my brothers heard it, they burst out laughing. I then told my mother and grandmother. Each one who heard it gave it a different interpretation. My brother Joseph said: “You’re going to become a shepherd and take care of goats, sheep and livestock.” My mother’s comment was: “Who knows? Maybe you will become a priest.” Dryly, Anthony muttered: “You might become the leader of a gang of robbers.” But my very religious, illiterate grandmother, had the last word: “You mustn’t pay any attention to dreams.”
I felt the same way about it, yet I could never get that dream out of my head. What I am about to relate may give some new insight to it. I never brought up the matter and my relatives gave no importance to it. But in 1858, when I went to Rome to confer with the Pope about the Salesian Congregation, Pius IX asked me to tell him everything that might have even only the slightest bearing on the supernatural. Then for the first time I told him the dream that I had when I was nine. The Pope ordered me to write it in detail for the encouragement of the members of the Congregation, for whose sake I had gone to Rome.
(Memoirs of the Oratory of St. Francis de Sales. John Bosco; BM I, 95-96)

            Piedmont in the early 19th century was still a peripheral area compared to the rest of Italy. The language spoken was Piedmontese. Italian was only used in special cases, just like one wears a special suit on special occasions. The upper classes preferred French in writing and resorted to dialect in conversation.
            In 1822, King Charles Felix approved a regulation for schools with special provisions for the teaching of Italian. However, these provisions were not very effective, especially given the method by which they were applied.
            It is therefore not surprising that the correct use of Italian also cost Don Bosco no little effort. There is a reason why, in his Memoirs it is easy to find Piedmontese words Italianised or Italian words used with dialect meanings as in the following cases:
            “I noticed that […] a sfrosadore was appearing” (ASC 132 / 58A7), where sfrosadore (Piedmontese: sfrosador) stands for fraudster, and likewise, “Don Bosco with his sons could cause a revolution at any time” (ASC 132 / 58E4), where figli (Piedmontese: fieuj) stands for youngsters. And so on.
            If Don Bosco was then able to write with propriety of language, combined with simplicity and clarity, it is due, among other things, to the patient use of the dictionary which Silvio Pellico advised him to use (MB III, 222).

A correction
            A significant example can be found in the correction of a sentence in the first dream he described in his Memoirs, “Renditi sano, forte e robusto”.
            Don Bosco, revising the manuscript, drew a line through the word “sano” (healthy) and wrote “umile” (humble)” in its place  (ASC 132 / 57A7).
            What did Don Bosco really hear in his dream and why did he then change that word? There has been talk of a change of meaning made for didactic purposes, as seems to have been Don Bosco’s custom at times in narrating and writing down his dreams. But could it not instead be a simple clarification of the original meaning?
            At 9 years of age the little John Bosco only spoke and heard Piedmontese. He had just started studying “the elements of reading and writing” at Fr Lacqua’s school in Capriglio. At home and in the village, only dialect was used. In church, he would hear the parish priest or chaplain read the Gospel in Latin and explain it in Piedmontese.
            It is therefore more than reasonable to assume that in a dream John heard both the “dignified man” and the “Lady of stately appearance” express themselves in dialect. The words he heard in the dream must then be recalled in dialect. Not: “humble, strong and energetict”, but rather “san, fòrt e robust” in the characteristic local accent.
            In such circumstances these adjectives could not have a purely literal but a figurative meaning. Now “san”, in a figurative sense, means: without wickedness, upright in moral conduct, i.e. good (C. ZALLI, Dizionario Piemontese-Italiano, Carmagnola, Tip. di P. Barbié, 2 a ed, 1830, vol. II, p. 330, used by Don Bosco); “fòrt e robust” means “strength” with stamina in the physical and moral sense (C. ZALLI, op. cit., vol. I, 360; vol. II, 309).
            Don Bosco would never again forget those three adjectives “san, fòrt e robust” and when he wrote his Memoirs, while at first glance he translated them literally, thinking back on it later, he found it more appropriate to better specify the meaning of the first word. That san (= good) for a 9-year-old boy meant obedient, docile, not capricious, not haughty, in a word, “humble”!
            It would therefore be a clarification, not a change of meaning.

Confirmation of this interpretation
            Don Bosco, in writing his Memoirs, candidly emphasised the shortcomings of his boyhood. Two passages taken from the same Memoirs confirm this.
            The first concerns the year of his first Confession and Communion for which Mamma Margaret had prepared his John: Don Bosco wrote. “I treasured my mother’s advice and tried to carry it out. I think from that day on there was some improvement in my life, especially in matters of obedience and submission to others. It was not easy for me to be submissive to others because I liked to do things my own way and follow my own childish whims rather than listen to those who gave me advice or told me what to do.” (ASC 132 / 60B5).
            The other can be found a little further on, where Don Bosco speaks of the difficulties he encountered with his half-brother Anthony in giving himself up to study. It is an amusing detail for us but one that betrays Anthony’s temper and John’s as well. So Anthony is said to have said to him one day, seeing him in the kitchen, sitting at the table, all intent on his books, “I’ve had my fill of this grammar business. I’ve grown big and strong without ever setting eyes on these books.” And Don Bosco said, “Carried away by blind rage I replied in a way I should not have. ‘Our donkey is bigger and stronger than you are and he never went to school either. Do you want to be like him?’ This so angered him that only speed saved me from a volley of blows and smacks.” (ASC 132 / 57B5).
            These details give us a better understanding of the dream’s warning and at the same time may explain the reason for the linguistic “clarification”mentioned above.
            In interpreting, therefore, Don Bosco’s manuscripts it will be useful not to forget the problem of language, because Don Bosco spoke and wrote correctly in Italian, but his mother tongue was the one in which he thought.
            In Rome on 8 May 1887, at a reception in his honour, when asked which language he liked best, he said, “The language I like best is the one my mother taught me, because it did not require any great effort to learn it, and I find it easier to express my ideas with it. Then too, I do not forget it as easily as I do other languages.” (BM XVIII, 275)

Among Don Bosco’s dreams, one of the best known is the one known as the “Dream of the two columns”. He recounted it on the evening of 30 May 1862.

            “A few nights ago I had a dream. True, dreams are nothing but dreams, but still I’ll tell it to you for your spiritual benefit, just as I would tell you even my sins-only I’m afraid I’d send you scurrying away before the roof fell in. Try to picture yourselves with me on the seashore, or, better still, on an outlying cliff with no other land in sight. The vast expanse of water is covered with a formidable array of ships in battle formation, prows fitted with sharp, spearlike beaks capable of breaking through any defense. All are heavily armed with cannons, incendiary bombs, and firearms of all sorts-even books-and are heading toward one stately ship, mightier than them all. As they close in, they try to ram it, set it afire, and cripple it as much as possible.

This stately vessel is shielded by a flotilla escort. Winds and waves are with the enemy. In the midst of this endless sea, two solid columns, a short distance apart, soar high into the sky: one is surmounted by a statue of the Immaculate Virgin at whose feet a large inscription reads: Auxilium Christianorum [Help of Christians]; the other, far loftier and sturdier, supports a Host of proportionate size and bears beneath it the inscription Salus credentium [Salvation of believers].

The flagship commander-the Roman Pontiff-seeing the enemy’s fury and his auxiliary ships’ very grave predicament, summons his captains to a conference. However, as they discuss their strategy, a furious storm breaks out and they must return to their ships.

When the storm abates, the Pope again summons his captains as the flagship keeps on its course. But the storm rages again. Standing at the helm, the Pope strains every muscle to steer his ship between the two columns from whose summits hang many anchors and strong hooks linked to chains.

The entire enemy fleet closes in to intercept and sink the flagship at all costs. They bombard it with everything they have: books and pamphlets, incendiary bombs, firearms, cannons. The battle rages ever more furious. Beaked prows ram the flagship again and again, but to no avail, as, unscathed and undaunted, it keeps on its course. At times a formidable ram splinters a gaping hole into its hull, but, immediately, a breeze from the two columns instantly seals the gash.

Meanwhile, enemy cannons blow up, firearms and beaks fall to pieces, ships crack up and sink to the bottom. In blind fury the enemy takes to hand-to-hand combat, cursing and blaspheming. Suddenly the Pope falls, seriously wounded. He is instantly helped up but, struck down a second time, dies. A shout of victory rises from the enemy and wild rejoicing sweeps their ships. But no sooner is the Pope dead than another takes his place. The captains of the auxiliary ships elected him so quickly that the news of the Pope’s death coincides with that of his
successor’s election. The enemy’s self-assurance wanes.

Breaking through all resistance, the new Pope steers his ship safely between the two columns and moors it to the two columns; first, to the one surmounted by the Host, and then to the other, topped by the statue of the Virgin. At this point, something unexpected happens. The enemy ships panic and disperse, colliding with and scuttling each other.

Some auxiliary ships which had gallantly fought alongside their flag-ship are the first to tie up at the two columns. Many others, which had fearfully kept far away from the fight, stand still, cautiously waiting until the wrecked enemy ships vanish under the waves. Then, they too head for the two columns, tie up at the swinging hooks, and ride safe and tranquil beside their flagship. A great calm now covers the sea.

“And so,” Don Bosco at this point asked Father Rua, “what do you make of this?”

“I think,” he answered, “that the flagship symbolizes the Church commanded by the Pope; the ships represent mankind; the sea is an image of the world. The flagship’s defenders are the laity loyal to the Church; the attackers are her enemies who strive with every weapon to destroy her. The two columns, I’d say, symbolize devotion to Mary and the Blessed Sacrament.”

Father Rua did not mention the Pope who fell and died. Don Bosco, too, kept silent on this point, simply adding: “Very well, Father, except for one thing: the enemy ships symbolize persecutions. Very grave trials await the Church. What we suffered so far is almost nothing compared to what is going to happen. The enemies of the Church are symbolized by the ships which strive their utmost to sink the flagship. Only two things can save us in such a grave hour: devotion to Mary and frequent Communion. Let’s do our very best to use these two means and have others use them everywhere. Good night!”
(BM VII, 107-109).

* * *

            The Servant of God Cardinal Schuster, Archbishop of Milan, gave so much importance to this vision that in 1953, when he was in Turin as Papal Legate to the National Eucharistic Congress, on the night of 13 September, during the solemn closing Pontifical, on the Piazza Vittorio, packed with people, he gave this dream a relevant part of his Homily.
            He said among other things: “At this solemn hour, in the Eucharistic Turin of Cottolengo and Don Bosco, I am reminded of a prophetic vision that the Founder of the Church of Mary Help of Christians narrated to his community in May 1862. He seemed to see the Church’s fleet being beaten here and there by the waves of a horrible storm; so much so that, at a certain moment, the supreme commander of the captain ship – Pius IX – summoned the commanders of the smaller ships to council.
            Unfortunately the storm, which roared ever more menacingly, interrupted the Vatican Council halfway through (it should be noted that Don Bosco announced these events eight years before they took place). In the ups and downs of those years, twice the same Supreme Pontiffs succumbed to their labours. When the third happened, two pillars began to emerge in the midst of the raging ocean, at the top of which triumphed the symbols of the Eucharist and the Immaculate Virgin.
            At that apparition, the new Pontiff – Blessed Pius X – took heart and with a firm chain, hooked Peter’s capital ship to those two solid pillars, lowering the anchors into the sea.
            Then the smaller ships began to row strenuously to gather around the Pope’s ship, and thus escaped shipwreck.
            History confirmed the prophecy of the Seer. The pontifical beginnings of Pius X with the anchor on his coat of arms coincided precisely with the fiftieth jubilee year of the dogmatic proclamation of the Immaculate Conception of Mary, and was celebrated throughout the Catholic world. All of us remember 8 December 1904, when the Pontiff in St Peter’s surrounded the Immaculate Conception’s forehead with a precious crown of gems, consecrating the entire family that Jesus Crucified had committed to her to the Mother.
            Bringing the innocent and infirm children to the Eucharistic Table also became part of the programme of the generous Pontiff, who wanted to restore the whole world in Christ. So it was that, as long as Pius X lived, there was no war, and he deserved the title of peaceful Pontiff of the Eucharist.
            Since that time the international situation has not really improved; so that the experience of three quarters of a century confirms that the fisherman’s ship on the stormy sea can only hope for salvation by hooking up to the two pillars of the Eucharist and Mary Help of Christians, who appeared to Don Bosco in a dream” (L’Italia, 13 September 1953).

            The same saintly Card. Schuster, once told a Salesian: “I have seen the vision of the two columns reproduced. Tell your Superiors that they should have it reproduced in prints and postcards, and spread it throughout the Catholic world, because this vision of Don Bosco’s is very topical: the Church and the Christian people will be saved by these two devotions: the Eucharist and Mary, Help of Christians.”

Fr ZERBINO Peter, sdb

One of Don Bosco’s most famous dreams was the one called the “Dream of the Ten Diamonds” which he had in September 1881. It is a warning dream that will never lose any of its value, so that the declaration Don Bosco made to his superiors will always be true: “The evils threatened will be prevented if we preach on the virtues and vices noted there.” Fr Lemoyne tells us this in his Biographical Memoirs (XV, 182-184).

To lift up Don Bosco ‘s spirit lest it be crushed beneath such a load of both minor and serious vexations, God intervened now and then to strengthen him in the heartening assurance of the mission entrusted to him from on high. That September he had one of his most important dreams that showed him the Congregation’s immediate future and its glorious achievements, along with the evils which threatened to destroy it if timely remedies were not applied. What he saw and heard impressed him so vividly that, not content with merely telling the dream, he put it down in writing as well. The original has been lost, but numerous copies have come to light, all of them in remarkable agreement.

Spiritus Sancti gratia, illuminet sensus et corda nostra. Amen. [May the
grace of the Holy Spirit enlighten our minds and hearts, Amen].

A teaching for the Pious Salesian Society.
On September 10 of this year 1881, the day the Church dedicates to the glorious name of Mary, the Salesians were assembled at San Benigno Canavese for their spiritual retreat.
On the night of September 10-11, while I was asleep, I dreamed that I was in a richly adorned hall. I seemed to be strolling up and down its length with the directors of our houses when a man of majestic mien-so majestic that none of us could fix our gaze on him-appeared among us. Glancing at us in utter silence, he too started to pace the hall several steps from us. He was clad in a rich mantle or cape closed at the front of the neck with a scarf from which a ribbon hung down on his chest. The scarf was inscribed in luminous letters: Pia Salesianorum Societas anno 1881 (Salesian Society in the year 1881), and on the ribbon were the words: Qualis esse debet (As it should be) . Ten diamonds of extraordinary size and brilliance adorning that august person kept our gaze from being fixed upon him. Three of the diamonds he wore on his chest: on one was written the word Faith, on another was written Hope, and the third over his heart bore the word Charity. The fourth diamond, affixed to his right shoulder, was inscribed Work; the fifth, on his left shoulder, read Temperance. The remaining five diamonds adorning the back of his cloak were set into a quadrangle; the largest and most brilliant sparkled in the very center, and on it was written Obedience. The diamond to its upper right read Vow of Poverty, and that below it, Reward. On the diamond to the upper left was written Vow of Chastity; its sparkle had a brilliance all its own and drew our gaze as a magnet attracts iron. Beneath it was a diamond inscribed Fasting. These four diamonds focused their dazzling rays upon the one in the center; their rays, resembling tongues of fire, flickered upward, forming various maxims.

The diamond Faith emitted rays with the words: “Take up the shield of faith that you may fight against the devil’s wiles.” Another ray proclaimed: “Faith without works is dead. Not the hearers but the doers of the law will possess the kingdom of God.”

On the rays of Hope were the words: “Hope is in the Lord, not in men. Let your hearts rest where true joys are found.”

The rays of Charity read: “Bear one another’s burdens if you want to fulfill My law. Love and you shall be loved. Love your souls and the souls of your charges. Recite the Divine Office devoutly, celebrate Mass attentively, visit the Holy of Holies with great love.”

On the word Work: “The remedy for concupiscence, a powerful weapon against the devil’s wiles.”

On Temperance: “Remove the fuel and the fire will die out. Make a pact with your eyes, with your cravings, your sleeping, lest these enemies plunder your souls. Self-gratification and chastity cannot co-exist.”

On the rays of Obedience: “The foundation of the whole edifice and a precis of sanctity.”

On the rays of Poverty: “Theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Riches are thorns. Poverty is not made of words but is in the hearts and deeds. Poverty will open the gates of heaven and enter it.”

On the rays of Chastity: “All virtues come with it. The clean of heart will see God’s mysteries and God Himself.”

On the rays of Reward: “If the lavish rewards are delightful, do not be deterred by the many hardships. He who suffers with Me will rejoice with Me. For My friends, suffering is momentary, but heavenly happiness is everlasting.”

On the rays of Fasting: “The most powerful weapon against the devil’s snares. The safeguard of all virtues. By it devils of every sort are cast out.”

A wide, rose-colored ribbon formed the edge of the lower hem of the cloak and on it was written: “Topic for Sermons, Morning, Noon and Night: Glean even bits of virtues and you will build a great edifice of sanctity for yourselves. Woe to you who despise small things; you shall fall little by little.”

Up to this point the directors were either standing or kneeling, totally bewildered and silent. But then Father Rua, as though beside himself, exclaimed, “Let’s make a note of this, lest we forget it.” He sought a pen but found none. Pulling out his wallet, he rummaged through it in vain. “I will remember,” Father Durando said. “I intend to write it down,” Father Fagnano retorted and began writing with the stem of a rose. All were surprised and they found they could read the writing. When Father Fagnano was through, Father Costamagna dictated these words: “Charity understands all things, bears all things, overcomes all things. Let us preach this in word and deed.”

As Father Fagnano was writing, the lights went out and we were left in total darkness. “Silence,” Father Ghivarello said. “Let us kneel down and pray; the light will return.” Father Lasagna intoned the Veni Creator, and then the De Profandis [ending with the invocation] Maria, Auxilium Christianorum.
As we all responded Ora pro nobis, a light shone, focusing on a poster which read: Pia Salesianorum Societas qualis esse periclitatur anno salutis 1900 [The Pious Salesian Society as it runs the risk of being in the year of salvation 1900]. A moment later the light grew stronger, and we were able to see and
recognize each other.
At the heart of this glowing light, the same august person appeared again, but he looked very sad and on the verge of tears. His cape was faded, motheaten and threadbare. Where each diamond had previously been set, there was now a gaping hole made by moths and other insects. “Look and understand,” the personage said. Then I saw that the ten diamonds had turned into as many moths ravenously eating through the cape.

In the place of Faith I now saw “Sleep and sloth.”

In the place of Hope, “Buffoonery and scurrility.”

In the place of Charity, “Negligence in the performance of spiritual duties. They love and seek what gratifies them, not what pertains to Christ.”

In the place of Temperance, “Gluttony.” “Their God is their belly.”

In the place of Work, “Sleep, theft and idleness.”

In the place of Obedience there was only a gaping hole and no inscription.

In the place of Chastity, “Concupiscence of the eyes and pride of life.”

Poverty had been replaced by “Comfort, clothes, drink and money.”

In the place of Reward, “The things of earth are what we seek.”

Where Fasting had been, there was only a hole, no writing.

We were now all filled with fear. Father Lasagna fell into a faint. Father Cagliero turned as white as a sheet and, grasping a chair for support, cried out, “Can it be that things have already come to such a state?” Father Lazzero and Father Guidazio, frightened out of their wits, reached out to hold each other up. Father Francesia, Count Cays, Father Barberis and Father Leveratto fell to their knees, rosary in hand.

At that moment an ominous voice declared, “How the beauty has faded!”

Then, as we stood in semi-darkness, something strange occurred. Pitch darkness again swallowed us up and in its midst a most dazzling light arose in the form of a human body. We could not fix our eyes on it, but we could make it out to be a handsome young man, clad in a white garment interwoven with gold and silver threads and entirely bordered by a string of brilliant diamonds. He moved toward us majestic in mien, yet gentle and friendly, and addressed us as follows:

Servants and instruments of Almighty God, listen and understand. Take heart and be strong. What you have seen and heard is a heavenly warning sent to you and to your confreres. Take it to heart and endeavor to understand it. An attack foreseen does less harm and can be warded off. Let each of the inscriptions be a topic of your talks. Preach unceasingly in season and out of season.
However, make sure that you always practice what you preach, so that your deeds may be a light, which may be passed on to your confreres from generation to generation as a solid tradition. Take heed and understand. Be cautious in accepting novices, strong in training them, prudent in admitting them [to vows]. Test all of them, but keep only the good; dismiss the lightminded and fickle. Take heed and understand. From morning to night ceaselessly meditate on the observance of the constitutions. If you do this, the hand of the Almighty will never fail you. You will be a model to the world and to angels, and your glory will be the glory of God. Those who will live to see the end of this century and the dawn of the next shall say of you: ‘By the Lord was this accomplished, and it is wonderful in our eyes. Then all your confreres and all your sons shall sing: ‘Not to us, Lord, not to us, but to Your name be the glory.'”

 These last words were chanted, and the youth’s voice was joined by a multitude of other voices, so melodiously blended and resonant that we were soon beside ourselves and, to keep from swooning away, chimed in the singing. As the song ended and the light dimmed, I awoke and realized that it was dawn.

Memorandum. The dream lasted almost the entire night, so that, come morning, I was totally exhausted. Still, fearing that I might forget, I quickly arose and jotted down some notes, to serve me as a reminder in recalling all I have here written on this feast of Our Lady’s Presentation in the Temple.

I could not possibly remember everything. But among other things, I was able to ascertain with certainty that the Lord is very merciful to me. Our Society is blessed by God, but He asks us also to do our share. The evils threatened will be warded off if we preach about the vices and virtues pointed out to us. If we practice what we preach, we shall be able to hand on to our confreres a practical tradition of what we have done and shall do.

I also managed to ascertain that many thorns and difficulties lie immediately ahead of us, but they will be followed by great consolations. Around 1890 there will be a great fear, around 1895 a great triumph. Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us.

Father Rua immediately saw to it that the august person’s directive was followed-namely, that matters revealed in the dream should fonn the topics of sermons. He himself gave a series of talks to the Salesians at the Oratory commenting in detail on both parts of the dream. The dates mentioned by Don Bosco as years of triumph or defeat correspond in our Congregation to the onset of adolescence in human life a critical, precarious period setting in most cases the stage for the entire future. Certainly, the growth in both members and houses as well as the spread of our Congregation to several nations, both of which were experienced in the final decade of the last century, could doubtlessly lead to some deviation or other, which, if not promptly checked, might take us farther and farther from the right path. However, at Don Bosco ‘s death, Divine Providence gave us a successor whose enlightened mind and energetic spirit measured up to the demands of those critical years. Father Rua, whom we may well characterize as the personification of all that is beautiful and wholesome in the first part of the dream, was indeed the watchful sentry, the undaunted and unquestioned leader needed to shepherd and guide the young recruits along the rightful path.
The portent of the dream transcends time. Don Bosco sounded the alarm for the special period which was to follow his death, but the admonitions qualis esse periclitatur contain a warning which will never lose any of its significance. Hence Don Bosco’s words to the superiors will always be valid: “The evils threatened will be offset if we shall speak about the vices and virtues pointed out in the dream.”

“The family of those who steal from God does not reach the fourth generation.”

The pretender to the throne of Italy, Victor Emmanuel of Savoy (b. 12.02.1937 – † 03.02.2024), the fifth descendant of the first King of Italy, Victor Emmanuel II of Savoy, died a few days ago. He was granted burial in the crypt of the Basilica at Superga, Turin, where dozens of other mortal remains of the House of Savoy are located. This event reminds us of other dreams of Don Bosco that came true.

            In November 1854, a law was being prepared on the confiscation of ecclesiastical property and the suppression of convents and monasteries. To be valid, it had to be sanctioned by the King of Italy, Victor Emmanuel II of Savoy. At the end of that month of November, Don Bosco had two dreams that came true as prophecies concerning the king and his family. Let us recall the facts with Fr Lemoyne.

Don Bosco was anxious to scatter an ominous cloud that loomed darker and darker over the royal house. Toward the end of November 1854, he had a dream in which he seemed to be standing by the pump near the wall of the Pinardi house-where now the main portico, then only half built, is located. He was sur-
rounded by priests and clerics. Suddenly a red-coated court valet appeared, rushed to Don Bosco, and said aloud,
            “News! News!”
            “What news?” Don Bosco asked.
            “Make this announcement: A state funeral at court!”
            Don Bosco was shocked by the sudden apparition and cry. The valet repeated: “A state funeral at court!” Don Bosco wanted more information, but the valet vanished. Don Bosco awoke in distress. Grasping the significance of his dream, he instantly drafted a letter for the king, revealing this dream.
[…]
…What really whetted their curiosity was that Don Bosco had written to the king. They knew well enough how he felt about the usurpation of ecclesiastical property. Don Bosco did not keep them in suspense but clearly told them what he had written in order to persuade the king to oppose that infamous law. He then
narrated his dream and concluded: “It deeply upset me and left me exhausted.” One could see that he was worried. Now and then he would say: 2Who knows? . . . Who knows? . . . Let us pray!”
Dumbfounded, the clerics kept asking each other whether anyone had heard of any important person at the court being ill. Nobody had. In the meantime, Don Bosco sent for the cleric Angelo Savio and showed him the draft of the letter to the king. “Copy it,” he said, “and send it to the king.” Savio did as he was requested. Don Bosco later learned from confidential sources within the royal palace that the king had read the letter.
            Five days later, Don Bosco had another dream. He seemed to be writing at his desk when he heard a horse’s hoofbeats in the playground. Suddenly the door flew open and again the red-coated valet appeared. He strode into the middle of the room and exclaimed: “Make this announcement: Not one state funeral at court, but state funerals at court!” He repeated these words twice before withdrawing. Anxious to know more, Don Bosco rushed out to the balcony. The valet was already in the playground, mounting his horse. Don Bosco called out to him, but the valet, once again shouting “State funerals at court!” vanished into the night.
At dawn, Don Bosco personally wrote to the king. He informed him of his
second dream and begged him to oppose that bill at all costs and save himself from the threatened punishments.
After supper that evening Don Bosco said to the young clerics around him: “I have something to tell you that is even more surprising than what I told you the other day.” Then he narrated his second dream. More mystified than ever, they kept wondering what it might portend. We can well imagine how anxiously they waited to see how these predictions would be fulfilled.
On the side, however, Don Bosco unequivocally revealed to the cleric John Cagliero and to a few others that these predictions were genuine threats of
punishments which God would inflict on those who were conspiring to cause still greater harm to the Church. He was indeed profoundly grieved and kept remarking: “This law will wreak havoc upon the royal house.” These things he said to his boys so that they would pray for their sovereign and mercifully obtain from God that the religious would not be dispersed and so many vocations lost.
Meanwhile the king had handed the letters to Marquis Fassati. After reading them, he returned to Don Bosco to remonstrate. “Do you think this was the proper thing to do? You deeply hurt the king and made him furious.”
Don Bosco replied: “What if those predictions come true? I regret having upset the king, but after all, his own good and that of the Church are at stake.”
Don Bosco’s warnings went unheeded. On November 28, 1854, Urbano Rattazzi, Minister of Justice, submitted a bill for the suppression of religious orders to the Chamber of Deputies. He had the support of Count Camillo Cavour, Minister of Finance, who was determined to push it through at all costs. In their philosophy it was an incontestable principle that there existed no society superior to or independent of civil society; the State was all; therefore, no moral persons-not even the Catholic Church-could claim juridical existence without the consent and recognizance of the State. Now-the two gentlemen argued-the State did not recognize the universal Church as having dominion over the properties of each religious congregation. These congregations could claim juridical existence only insofar as they were recognized by the State.
The State could therefore modify or even cancel their juridical existence. In such a case, the properties, without heirs, would fall under the sole, absolute ownership of the State. This was a crass assumption, because should a religious congregation cease to exist for any reason, its heir would be the Church of which it was a member, the Church established by Jesus Christ and represented by the Pope. (BM V, 115-117).

            That these were warnings from Heaven is also confirmed by a letter written four years earlier, on 9 April 1850, that the King’s mother, Queen Mother Maria Teresa, widow of Charles Albert, had addressed to her son, King Victor Emmanuel II of Savoy.

God will reward you, He will bless you, otherwise who knows what punishment, what dire penalties from God you will call down upon yourself, your family and the country, if you should approve the law. Just think about the grief you would feel if the Lord were to allow your beloved Adele, whom you so rightly love, or your Chichina (Clotilde) or your Betta (Umberto) to fall sick, or to be taken from you. If only you could look into my heart and see how grieved I am,
how anxious and fearful that if you immediately ratify this law, many
misfortunes would be visiting on us, if you do this without the consent of the Holy Father. Perhaps your heart, which is sincerely honest and sensitive and has always been deeply attached to your poor mamma, would allow itself to be softened. (Antonio Monti, Nuova Antologia, 1 January 1936, p. 65; BM XVII, 855).

            But the king took no notice of these warnings and the consequences were not long in coming. The negotiations for approval continued and the prophecies were also fulfilled:
            – on 12 January 1855 Maria Theresa, Queen Mother, died at the age of 53;
            – on 20 January 1855 Queen Maria Adelaide died, aged 33;
            – on 11 February 1855 Prince Ferdinand, the King’s brother, died at the age of 32;
            – on 17 May 1855 the King’s son, Prince Victor Emmanuel Leopold Mary Eugene died, aged just 4 months.

            Don Bosco continued to issue warnings, publishing the charter of the foundation of Altacomba (Hautecombe) with an exposition of all the maledictions inflicted on those who dared to destroy or usurp the possessions of the Abbey of Altacomba, inserted in the document by the ancient Dukes of Savoy to protect the place where dozens of the illustrious ancestors of the House of Savoy are interred.
And he also continued by publishing in April 1855, in the Letture Cattoliche (Catholic Readings) a pamphlet written by Baron Nilinse entitled: Stealing Church Property and Its Consequences; with a brief appendix on the events in Piedmont. On the frontispiece was written: The frontispiece featured a quotation of St. Ambrose: “What! A private citizen’s home is inviolable, and yet you dare lay hands on the house of the Lord?” The incidents related in this booklet, many
of which had their source in the testimony of Protestant authors, detailed the frightful punishments that had befallen those rulers or private citizens who had confiscated, sold, or purchased what had once been consecrated to God: “The family of him who steals from God shall not attain the fourth generation!” (BM V, 149).

            On 29 May Victor Emmanuel II signed the Rattazzi law, which confiscated ecclesiastical property and suppressed the religious corporations, without taking into account what Don Bosco had predicted and the mourning that had struck his family since January… not knowing that he was also signing the destiny of the royal family.

            In fact, here too the prophecy came true, as we see.
            – King Victor Emmanuel II of Savoy (born 14.03.1820 – † 09.01.1878), reigned from 17.03.1861 – to 09.01.1878, died at the age of 58;
            – King Umberto I (b. 14.03.1844 – † 29.07.1900), son of King Victor Emmanuel II of Savoy, reigned from 10.01.1878 – to 29.07.1900, was killed in Monza at the age of 56
            – King Victor Emmanuel III (b. 11.11.1869 – † 28.12.1947), grandson of King Victor Emmanuel II of Savoy, reigned from 30.07.1900 – to 09.05.1946, was forced to abdicate on 9 May 1946 and died a year later
            – King Umberto II (b. 15.09.1904 – † 18.03.1983) the last King of Italy, reigning from 10.05.1946 to 18.06.1946, great-grandson of Victor Emmanuel II (the fourth generation), was forced to abdicate after only 35 days of his reign, following the Institutional Referendum of 2 June of the same year. He died on 18 March 1983 in Geneva, and was buried in Altacomba Abbey…

            Some interpret these events as mere coincidences, because they cannot deny the facts, but those who know God’s action know that in his mercy he always warns in one way or another of the serious consequences that certain decisions of great importance, affecting the destiny of the world and the Church, may have.
            Let us just recall the end of the life of the wisest man on earth, King Solomon.
For when Solomon was old, his wives turned away his heart after other gods; and his heart was not true to the Lord his God, as was the heart of his father David. For Solomon followed Astarte the goddess of the Sidonians, and Milcom the abomination of the Ammonites. So Solomon did what was evil in the sight of the Lord, and did not completely follow the Lord, as his father David had done. Then Solomon built a high place for Chemosh the abomination of Moab, and for Molech the abomination of the Ammonites, on the mountain east of Jerusalem. He did the same for all his foreign wives, who offered incense and sacrificed to their gods. Then the Lord was angry with Solomon, because his heart had turned away from the Lord, the God of Israel, who had appeared to him twice, and had commanded him concerning this matter, that he should not follow other gods; but he did not observe what the Lord commanded. Therefore the Lord said to Solomon, ‘Since this has been your mind and you have not kept my covenant and my statutes that I have commanded you, I will surely tear the kingdom from you and give it to your servant. (1 Kings 11:4-11).

            Just read history carefully, both sacred and profane….