(1815 - 1888)

St John Bosco was born to delight poor boys by the tricks he performed, and by the games he played with them, but most of all by teaching them to know and love Jesus Christ.

John was born in Turin, Italy, in 1815 of a saintly mother, "Mamma Margaret," and a poor farmer father. His mother was the sixth of ten children. When her two older brothers married and her father went into the army she managed the home. She was independent and spirited.

John’s father, Francis, was one of twelve. His first wife died after giving birth to two children, one of whom survived infancy. When he found himself with an older mother and a four year old son, he realized it was time to remarry. He proposed to Margaret and was refused, but her family and friends convinced her that Francis was a good man, so she reconsidered. They were married in June, 1812.

John was the second born to the couple, arriving on the feast of the Assumption in 1815. Just two years later John’s father caught pneumonia and died. His young mother was left to care for her two infants, a step-son, her mother-in-law and barren fields. An early summer and drought brought everyone in the area to their knees: men were found in the fields, starved to death, their mouths filled with chewed grass. The Boscos were poor, as they would always be, but "Mamma Margaret" made use of every moment, every penny, every bit of food to pull through.

She taught concern for the poor by being ever ready to help those who came to their door, even when they themselves had little. She always made sure the children were clean and neatly dressed. On Sunday she would have the boys put on their best clothes to honor the Lord at Mass. She taught them to accept the hardships of life, including waking up early each day. She refused to buy more comfortable mattresses when they became popular, saying if they later had to sleep on straw mattresses, they wouldn’t find it so hard to put up with.

John was a strong-willed boy, and had he not become a priest, he later admitted, he would have been the most horrible non-believer. Right from his earliest years he showed two great interests: a love to entertain other children and a love for the Lord.

When he was nine he had a dream which impressed him deeply and affected his whole life. He found himself among a crowd of boys who were playing, laughing and blaspheming God. On hearing the latter he rushed in to quiet them, using his fists. Then a dignified-looking man appeared and told him, "You must win the hearts of these friends of yours not with blows but with sweetness and charity." Then he saw a lovely lady whom the man had described as his mother, and she turned him again to the crowd which was turned into beasts and then lambs. She told him this was his "field of labor," and that he must do for her sons what he saw done there." From that time he recognized his task to help poor boys to come to know the Lord.

This was a dream he never forgot. It gave him confidence to continue on later when he was struggling to study for the priesthood.

He would accompany his mother on trips to neighboring towns and while she went about her business, he would go to the town fair and learn all the tricks and acrobatics of the performers. After he returned home he would put on a show for up to 100 of his young friends, doing card tricks, producing small eggs or coins from the hats, elbows, or knees of the children. Once he had them all gathered round he'd step up on a chair and say, "Now let's pray the rosary." After that he would do some back somersaults, walk on his hands or perform a tightrope act. Then, back on the chair to sing a hymn to Our Lady.

Then he began to tell them about the homily the priest had preached the previous Sunday. Some started to leave at this point at which he announced, "Leave if you like but you can't return to watch the new tricks I learned at the last fair. Besides, if you don't pray I may break my neck!" This usually changed their minds. After his sermon, he might perform some juggling act, change a glass of water into wine, and then his finale. He would cut a live rooster into pieces, place the pieces under a cloth, say a few words and "Whoosh!" Off came the cloth and there was a live rooster who jumped to the ground and strutted around, much to the delight of the children.

As news of John’s ability to tell stories to explain the catechism and the sermons, his audience grew and adults began to come as well as the children. At first they came just to accompany their children, but in time they stayed to listen to his wonderful tales about the faith. He read everything he could, and developed a great store of knowledge from which to draw his stories.

On one feast day there was a dance at the town square, and when the church bell rang for evening prayers, none of the teenagers would leave. He tried to round them up but they told him to leave them alone and began calling him names. He was not discouraged. He began singing a hymn to Mary. First the young children his age came over to join him. Eventually the teenagers followed. He continued singing and marched up to the church like the pied piper with all the children walking along behind. His persistence won out.

Once he came home with a gash over his eye. "Why do you go around with such bad boys?" his mother asked him.

"That's just why. When I'm with them they're better and they don't say bad words."

"Yet you come home with a broken head!" she answered.

"It was an accident," he assured her.

"Don't go around with them anymore," she told him. He pleaded, but she didn't budge.

Finally, he said, "OK mamma, to please you I won't. But when I'm with them they do what I say and they don't fight."

She gave in, and was rewarded with a kiss.

John’s mother knew he would do something special with his life, perhaps become a priest. So, she made sure he got an education, over the complaints of his brother Anthony. After a while, however, Mamma Margaret got tired of her older son’s constant harassment of John over his schooling, so when John was 12 she sent John to some friends, the Moglia’s to work on their farm. At first the owners turned him down, saying that they didn’t need anyone, but John pleaded and won the job. His dedicated work and his religious devotion soon impressed the family.

He stayed there three years, but one day his uncle Michael stopped by and asked him if he were happy with what he was doing. "How can I be happy when I am making no progress in my studies?" The uncle brought the boy back home so they could find a priest to help him study. Alas, the priests all said they were too busy.

One day, shortly after he returned home, as he was coming from a mission at the church, he saw a priest and ran up to him to say hello. The priest questioned this friendly stranger, "You are coming to the mission. Your mother's sermons aren't enough?"

"Hers are very good, but I like to hear the priest," John replied.

"And you understand some of it?"

"All of it," he answered with assurance.

Deciding to call the boy's bluff, the priest offered, "I'll give you four soldi if you can repeat even four of his words."

"It was about the need to give ourselves to God now, and not waiting, lest we lose our salvation at the final hour."

"Perfect," replied the priest.

"Shall I repeat the whole sermon?"

He did, point by point, and the priest was amazed. The priest discovered John had little education but wanted to be a priest. He invited John and his mother to come visit him the following Sunday. That was the beginning of his long, difficult journey to the priesthood.

His priest sponsor was Don Calosso, and John began to study grammar and Latin under him. When Anthony continued to harass John for going off to study with the priest, Fr. Calosso invited the boy to come and live with him. This worked out well, but some months later the old priest died. He left John a sizeable amount of money, but the boy gave it to the priest’s relatives, fearing it might cause trouble if he accepted it.

Now John had to start all over. His mother first divided the property between Anthony and the others, to get the older brother to stop bothering John. Then she sent John off to school at Castelnuovo, about six miles away. It was a hard walk for him every day, so Mamma Margaret eventually arranged for John to live with a tailor there during the school year. John was much bigger and older than his classmates, so they made cruel jokes about him. He took it all well, and he far surpassed them all in his studies.

In the spring a new priest came to teach, and because he didn’t know how to discipline the boys he sided with the majority, the higher class boys. He copied their ridiculing of John, considering the boy a dumb ox. But John never got angry no matter what the teacher said. However, John decided to do something about this persecution: when the teacher passed out the tests, John asked for the advanced test. The teacher ridiculed the idea, but the students wanted John to try and fail the tougher test. The teacher gave in and John’s paper was perfect–he got a 100. The teacher suggested the boy had cheated, but by now the others were on John’s side, and they defended him.

There was one thing that bothered John throughout this time. He could not find a priest to stop and talk to him. He resolved that if he ever became a priest he would spend lots of time with young people, hearing their difficulties, helping them to think of their souls.

In 1831 when John was 16 his mother sent him on to Chieri to study. There again he was the oldest and tallest of the boys. He decided to try to do something about this so after two months he asked for an examination and was promoted to the next class. He was so charged up by this that he studied even harder and when he reached the head of that class, he asked for another exam and was promoted again.

John soon gathered some friends to pray, study, read, and support each other in the faith. When they finished their duties, this "Society of Joy" as they called themselves, would go out singing, laughing and exploring the countryside and the wayside chapels and picking wild strawberries in the woods. Each member had to avoid bad language, and to work hard at academic and religious duties. They were to strive for joy at all times.

One Sunday an acrobat set up his show in the Chieri town square in front of the church and began to do his tricks just as people were heading to evening prayer. John was told of all this and he and his friends went down to the square. The acrobat was challenging the everyone to compete with him and had money to back his challenge. The boys urged John to take him up. Seeing the value of beating this smart-Alec, so he would not bother church-goers again, John agreed. John’s friends put up the money for the bet.

The first contest was to be running. Judges were chosen and the two boys prepared to for the race. The starter yelled out "Go," and they were off. The acrobat started out in the lead, but John soon caught up, and then in the final stretch he left the young man far behind. Not finished yet, the acrobat challenged John to jumping and balancing. John won these contests as well–and the money as well.

The acrobat was so angry he pointed to an elm about the height of the church tower and challenged, "A hundred lire says I get up higher than you."

"You're on," said John.

The acrobat scampered up the tree and in a moment was hanging on the highest branch, which appeared ready to break under his weight. Unimpressed, and more clever than his rival, John climbed to the top, got a firm grip on the highest branch and stood on his hands. His feet extended above the tree-top; his opponent conceded.

John, feeling sorry for his rival who was now crying, offered to return all his money if he would buy a treat for all John’s friends and then leave and not bother them again. The acrobat was delighted with the offer and thanked John for his sportsmanship. Mission accomplished!

John finished his high school studies in 1835 at the age of 19 and soon after entered the seminary for parish priests. Before he left for the seminary his mother called him aside and told him, "Before you were born I consecrated you to Our Lady. When you began your studies I told you to be devoted to your heavenly mother. Now I ask you to be entirely hers. Choose your friends among those who love her and if you do become a priest spread devotion to her." [Mothers take note!]

At the seminary John was again a leader at everything, including studies. He had a photographic memory, so he could complete his studying quickly, and then he would have time to tutor some of the other students or work in the infirmary. When he was offered a job as the sacristan he accepted immediately for two reasons: first, he could spend more time in church; and second, he would receive 60 lire per year, half of his tuition. John was always poor, and had to patch his one cassock over and over again.

When he entered the seminary at the age of 19, John wrote down several resolutions to help him live a holy life, worthy of the priesthood. He would attend no public entertainment, and would attend festival dinners only when absolutely necessary; he gave up acrobatics, the violin and hunting; he would drink, eat and sleep only what his health required; he would resist the slightest act, word or thought against chastity, pursuing that virtue with great energy; he would add to the ordinary spiritual exercises, time for meditation and spiritual reading; finally, each day he would try to set a good example for his neighbor. Then, before Mary's statue, he formally promised to keep these resolutions.

He turned his friends into model students by starting a new "Society of Joy" in the seminary. Although John was a model student, he was not yet free of an old flaw: he often tried to settle things with his fists. He had forgotten the lesson of his dream. In school he met a boy who was to help him with this last major hurdle, Luigi Comollo. One day the boys were clowning and playing in class before the teacher arrived, and they tried to get Luigi to join in. He refused, and one boy threatened to hit him. "Hit if you like," answered Luigi. The leader gave him two stinging blows to the face. The boy said quietly, "Are you satisfied? I forgive you, but now please leave me alone." His opponent pulled back, feeling foolish. John had found the model he needed. He became close friends with Luigi, and through the latter's example, learned to moderate his fiery spirit.

John's great friendship with Luigi was not to last; in April 1839 Luigi died, having predicted his death a year earlier. John and Luigi had made a secret agreement that whoever died first would appear to the other, if God allowed it, and tell him if he had been saved. John waited for a sign that his beloved friend had entered Heaven and the day after the burial he got it. It was a frightening experience that awakened all the seminarians in the dormitory. Preceded by deafening sounds and a great light, the voice of Luigi Comollo called out, "Bosco, I am saved!"

John sought permission to study his third year of theology at home during the summer vacation of 1837 (at age 22). The archbishop granted this request, and John passed the test with an Excellent. He finished his studies the next spring with the highest possible marks. He was ordained to the diaconate in March, 1841, at the age of 26, and then to the priesthood in May the same year.

John was invited to continue his studies at Turin after ordination. There he was permitted to gather every Sunday with the poor boys of the city and nourish their faith. Every Sunday and holy day of obligation he would hear their confessions and say Mass for them. They would leave and return in the afternoon for stories about the faith, catechism, and games. This would all take place in the courtyard of the house of studies. After just a few months John had over 80 boys. John had a dream a few months before his studies ended, similar to the one he had had when he was nine: he was in charge of an army of wolves, and as he moved them from place to place, they turned into lambs. Again, he was guided by a lady, the Blessed Mother.

When he finished his studies at the age of 29 he was appointed assistant chaplain to a refuge for troubled girls founded by the Marchesa of Barola, a most important and wealthy lady of the town. This allowed him to continue with his boys on Sunday and eventually he had over three hundred boys attending his "festive oratory." The Marchesa soon withdrew permission for them to meet on school grounds because of their noisiness and mischief. After some searching, he found a place to bring his boys on Sunday, but the owners quickly tired of the rough boys and sent them away. He found three more places after that, but the result was always the same: "The boys are too much trouble. You’ll have to leave."

Some of his friends considered John mad for pursuing his dream with the boys with no support. It was even rumored that he wanted to start a new order to take care of his boys. One day a pair of priest friends from Turin arrived in a carriage to invite him for a restful ride in the country. Somehow John had figured out their intention to bring him off to an insane asylum to have him tested. Out to the carriage they went and out of respect for the greater age of the two priests he allowed them to enter the carriage first. When they were both in, John slammed the door and shouted to the driver, "To the asylum, full speed! These men are expected!" Upon their arrival they were so angry that they were almost committed on the spot. When the story got around it drew many laughs, and it became clear that John was quite sane.

After 18 months of moves and disappointments, the owner of the field they were using had decided not to rent to them any more, and they were on their last Sunday. John told the boys this would have to be it, he couldn’t take it any more. He was dejected. He wondered aloud if perhaps God didn’t need his work. "No, no, no," cried the boys, "We couldn’t do it without you!" "Well," said John, "If God wants us to go on, he needs to do something fast. I’ve done all I can."

Just then, as if God had heard his complaint, a man came across the field and said to the young priest, "I hear you’re looking for a laboratory." "Not a laboratory, an oratory," answered John. "Laboratory, oratory. You’re looking for a place and I have one for you... Like to meet the owner?" said the man. "I’ll go right away," responded John.

The place was a dump. The ceiling was too low and it had a dirt floor. "It’s too low," remarked John. "I’ll dig it out for you," replied the owner, "and do whatever else that’s needed." "Okay. I’ll take it if you lower the floor about a foot." When the man offered it for 300 lire a year, John said "If you add the strip of land for a playground and guarantee to have it ready for next Sunday, I’ll make it 320." "It’s a deal," answered the owner.

When John announced the new site the boys were overjoyed. They tossed their caps in the air and cheered wildly.

John seemed to be in his element. He had a place for his boys and he had his work with the Marchesa to support him. Alas, it wasn’t to last. The Marchesa decided he was giving too much effort to the boys, and that his work with her girls would have to suffer. She delivered him an ultimatum: give up the boys or give up her school. He gave up her school.

In the midst of his conflict with the Marchesa he got terribly sick and nearly died of pneumonia. His priest friend brought him Viaticum. Then he urged John to pray for his recovery. John agreed, and the next day the doctor pronounced John out of danger. He would need three more months of recovery, staying with his mother in Becchi.

When he had barely recovered he convinced his mother to move with him to some miserable rooms near his new oratory and his work began. John was still weak, and they had no income, but they forged ahead, trusting that God would take care of them.

John began to teach his boys almost immediately, and they learned quickly, because John was an excellent teacher. He provided rewards for the smarter boys to teach the others. In just a few months he invited some of the important people of Turin to see what he was doing and meet his boys. They were so impressed with the boys, if not their sad quarters, that they gave him a grant of three hundred lire per year.

John was encouraged by this to seek out more boys. He used some novel methods to get them. Once he saw a group of boys gambling in the street. He asked if he could play, and after winning all their money he offered it all back if they would come to his Sunday oratory. They joyfully agreed.

Once he offered candy to a group of boys if they could catch him. He ran around the block, easily outrunning them. Then he stopped in front of a church and invited them in. He had some questions to ask before he handed over the candy. He asked, "What happens to someone who dies in mortal sin?" "He goes to hell," they answered. "And how do you get rid of mortal sin?" he went on. When they couldn’t answer, he told them, "By confession." "O yeah, by confession." He explained a little about the sacrament, and then gave each one a medal of Our Lady. He invited them to his Sunday "festive oratory" and left. "Next Sunday?" "Next Sunday!" they responded.

John met one boy in the barber shop. After many tries he got the boy to come to his oratory, and eventually to live there. But, the boy would never go to confession, even with an occasional hint. Finally one night, as the boy pulled back his bedspread, a paper flew out. It read, "Charlie, if you were to die tonight, what would happen to your soul?" He burst into tears, and ran to Don Bosco’s room to confess.

Some pastors complained that John was drawing the boys away from their parishes. However, when, at John’s invitation they came and saw the boys he had and the instruction they were given, the pastors withdrew their complaints. John got permission from the bishop to admit his boys to first Communion and Confirmation, as long as he gave their names to their respective pastors.

After this, however, the mayor decided that if John Bosco were such a gifted fellow, he shouldn’t be working with "a bunch of rough kids." So, he called a meeting of the city leaders to agree on putting a stop to Bosco’s work. They were about ready to vote against Bosco when a representative of the king went up to the mayor and whispered in his ear. The mayor cleared his throat, and announced that the king had decreed there should be no interference with John Bosco and his boys.

After that John went to visit the mayor to try to soothe his feelings and help him see the value of his enterprise. By the time John was leaving the mayor was warming up to John’s work, and asked where he got the money to support it. "By receiving offerings from kind people... such as yourself." The mayor smiled and reached into his pocket to get out a nice contribution.

John came to realize that many of the boys who came on Sunday had no home; they stayed in the streets or in deserted buildings. He and his mother fixed up a loft with makeshift beds and John soon brought home twelve boys. Alas, when he went to wake them up the next morning, they were gone, and with them, the sheets, pillowcases and blankets. John was deeply disappointed.

Nonetheless, he was not about to give up on his idea. He began accepting boys again soon after, better behaved ones. After a short time thirty or forty boys were living with John and his mother "Mamma Margaret." When they ran out of space, he established another house at nearby Porta Nuova. In 1849 he founded a third house in Vanchiglia, a town so wild that even the police avoided it after dark. Little by little John’s oratories won the admiration of the city leaders.

John based his entire work on confession and communion. He would encourage—never force—a new boy to go to confession, and then to receive communion often, in an age when these things were not done that frequently. He would encourage daily Mass as well. He was always strong in promoting devotion to Our Lady. John would remind them often of death, and that they would all have to undergo it. He even predicted correctly the death of some of them. He was a strong promoter of chastity in every situation. Joy and keeping busy were essential aspects of his oratory. Music, drama, field trips and especially games were always available to the boys.

John forbade punishment by physical means. He insisted that correction and punishment never be done in public, except in rare circumstances.

John’s goal was to make the boys real saints. And, some of them, including Dominic Savio, did become saints. More than once John came into the church to find one of his boys praying so devoutly that he was lifted off the ground.

He soon saw that his work with the boys was often undone by the bad influences at their work. So he began to train them in trades himself. He opened his first workshops for tailors and shoemakers in 1853.

By 1856 he had 150 boys in residence, four workshops including a printing press, four Latin classes with 10 young priests as teachers, in addition to the Sunday oratory with its 500 children. Because of his deep sympathy for them, and his ability to read their minds, he had a tremendous influence over his children, to the amazement of all.

He was a great preacher, wrote many popular books, distributed countless leaflets on the faith and worked many miracles (healings) All this, in addition to his work with the boys.

John built several churches for his boys, the first being a small one for his first residence in Turin. The second, Mary Help of Christians, was much larger, built in 1868. Time after time they would run out of money for this latter church, and God would provide. Often John would be called to the bedside of someone who was deathly sick. He would encourage the person to pray to Mary, help of Christians, and he would have his boys go into the chapel and pray. When the person was healed as was often the case, he/she would then immediately make a large donation for the church.

John was a strong believer in providing good Catholic reading for people. He published over 130 works himself, on the saints or explaining the faith. Anti-Catholics hated him for these excellent works. Several attempts were made to kill him, but John always had the grace to anticipate their evil plans and escape.

Although he often had his boys or his priest assistants to come to the rescue, he had another curious rescuer on many occasions. It was a dog, given the name "Grigio" by those who saw him. No one knew where he came from before helping John, or where he went after. The dog, strong and fierce-looking, would appear whenever John was returning late at night in a dangerous area.

Once, John discovered he had to make a late-night errand in the city. Because of the dangers involved his mother tried to keep him from going, but was unsuccessful. So, when John started out the dog came placed himself in John’s path, and growled, refusing to budge. After several minutes of this, John gave up his trip. A short time later someone came to the door and warned him not to go out because three or four men were hiding outside, ready to attack ambush him.

Another time John was returning home when he heard someone behind him running. He turned and saw a man with a knife coming at him. John began to run, but three others stepped out of a doorway and blocked his escape. John chose to face the one rather than three, and quickly overpowered him. When the three others got to John it looked like the end, but just then Grigio flew through the air at the three, and snarling viciously, with his fangs bared, ran them all off. Such a scene was repeated more than once.

Once the dog showed up at the oratory and all the boys had a grand time playing with it. Oddly, whenever they offered the dog some food it refused.

Over and over people told John he had to provide a way to keep his oratory going after he died. So, several times he tried to train some for the priesthood. After two failed attempts, he tried to recruit some priests to help carry on the work, but they were soon discouraged by the roughness of the boys and the lack of money, and they left. Then he again trained some boys for the priesthood, but although some were ordained, they all left too. By 1850 he had just one assistant left with him.

It was then that he decided to start his own religious order to carry on his work. In 1854 he assembled in his room the young boys he would train to be his successors. They called themselves the Salesians, named after his favorite saint, St. Francis de Sales. In 1858 he went to Rome to ask Pope Pius IX to approve the new Society. He got some encouragement, but would have to make 19 more trips over the next 16 years to get approval.

In 1859 John laid out his entire plan to his 21 leaders. If they wanted to join the Society, they would simply show up at a meeting to be held 8 days later. All but two came to the meeting. In 1864 John received preliminary approval from Rome, but in the years that followed, the local bishop gave him terrible grief since he felt John would take away his own vocations. Final approval was received only in 1874.

John saw the need to send his men as missionaries to South and North America, which he was delighted to do. In 1872 he teamed up with Mary Mazzarello to establish the "Daughters of Mary, Help of Christians." They were to do for young girls what he had done for the boys. They began with 27 young women, and before long they spread throughout Italy and South America.

John’s dreams, or visions, as some have called them, continued throughout most of his life. Often he would have visions of his boys in which he was able to see which ones were in the state of grace, which in the state of mortal sin. He would report his dreams to the boys without naming any names, but if they came to him in private he would tell them what he knew of them.

One boy came from making his confession and met John going to say Mass. The priest asked him, "When are you going to make your general confession?" "I already did," said the boy. "Are you sure?" asked John. "Yes, I confessed to Fr. ________." "You did? Then why did you hide the sin of ___________?" The boy began to cry. But, with a few words of encouragement from John, he ran back to the priest to make a good confession.

It was sometimes revealed to John when some of the boys would die. He would mention to the boys his revelation without saying which boys were to die. He would encourage them all, however, to make frequent and sincere confessions and frequent and devout Communions.

God worked many miracles at John’s hands. Several times a few loaves of bread or a few chestnuts were distributed to a huge number of boys, and the food was multiplied as John distributed it. Another time a little girl was cured of blindness after he urged the girl and her aunt to pray the Hail Mary and Hail Holy Queen and to have confidence in the Blessed Mother.

What was John’s day like? He was up at 4:30 a.m. daily, having resolved at his ordination to sleep only five hours a night. He began his prayer at 5 a.m. and continued for an hour or more. Then he spent a short time reviewing letters he was writing.

Then he went over to the church at about 7:30 a.m. to hear the confessions of his boys. He would hear about twenty with great precision, great care, often knowing the soul of his penitent before the boy spoke.

Then, he began Mass. He was so reverent in his genuflections, sometimes with tears in his eyes as he said the Sacred Mysteries, all were moved by his devotion. The Mass would take no more than half an hour.

He would leave the sacristy before 9 a.m. to go out and mingle with the boys, who would cling to him as their loving father. Then he would go briefly to the dining hall for a cup of coffee and go up to his office for his morning appointments. Some would have questions about their vocation, others were concerned for a straying son. A priest might be asking John to come and preach. Between 12:30 and 1 p.m. this ordeal would end and John would go down to the dining hall to eat lunch. He would eat at a table with his boys, who loved to sit with their hero and hear his bits of religion or humor.

At two p.m. John would take an hour for prayer. Then the mail arrived and John would go to a nearby house of a friend, a different one each day, where he would work, undisturbed, at answering his mail. He might write to encourage a boy; to inspire one of his missionary Salesian priests; or to decline a request to take a boy in because they were full and because the mother was dressed in "luxury." At sunset he would gather his things and head for the Oratory.

He would stop at a church on the way home, going to the underground chapel, and enter into deep prayer. He returned home to his room at about 7 p.m. and immediately the boys began to knock at his door. He made himself available to them for counseling, answering questions and the like.

At 8 p.m. John would go down for dinner and lead grace for his fellow religious. After a Gospel passage and a short reading they would carry on a lively conversation. At 8:30 p.m. the boys would come in and John would sit with them during their meal. At 9 p.m. the bell would ring and they would all go out to the courtyard for prayers. John would kneel and pray with them on the concrete pavement.

Then John would gather his "sons" around him for a brief spiritual talk. After that they were dismissed and he would speak to several boys, one at a time. He would move up to his room at some point, but the line of visitors followed him. At eleven, the visiting ended. John would pray and prepare for bed. By 11:30, unless this was one of the nights he would write all night, he was finally in bed. The day was over. Rest, at last.

Peter Enria, his aide, said, "I have lived with him for twenty-five years and I have always seen him praying. How often I discovered he was praying when he was going upstairs, or in his room after work!" John had a great devotion to Mary, and said of her, "The Blessed Virgin leads [me] step by step. At every moment it is she who appears. It is she who visibly protects us from all dangers, shows us what we are to do, and helps us to accomplish it."

Pope Pius IX had given money before his death in 1878, to build a church in Rome in honor of the Sacred Heart. Pius’ successor, Leo XIII, was saddened to discover that the church could not be completed due to lack of funds. It was important to have this church built since there were many poor people living in the area, and they were in danger of losing their faith without a nearby church. Also Leo had a great devotion to the Sacred Heart, and wanted a church built in Rome to strengthen this devotion in the whole Church. A cardinal suggested that John Bosco could raise the money.

Leo had met John in a curious way. Just a few days after Pius IX’s death the priest had met Cardinal Joachim Pecci in one of the hallways in the Vatican. John knelt before him and asked to kiss his hand. "Who are you?" asked the Cardinal. "Only a poor priest," John answered. "...in a few days I hope to kiss your foot [implying that the Cardinal would by then be pope]."

"I forbid you to pray for that," the Cardinal said.

"You cannot forbid me to ask God for what is pleasing to him."

"If you pray in that way I will threaten you with censures," warned the Cardinal.

"Your Eminence has no authority to inflict them on me. When you have I will obey them."

The Cardinal then asked, "Who are you to talk to me like this?"

"I am Don Bosco."

In less than a week, Cardinal Pecci became Pope Leo XIII.

Pope Leo took the suggestion of his cardinal to ask John to raise the money, and John accepted. When John presented the mission to his council, they were all against it, especially because of John’s failing health. A slightly curved spine and two swollen legs made his walking difficult. His eyesight was getting worse, his left eye being almost gone. They all voted no.

John then spoke, "You have acted according to human prudence and that is right. But, if instead of voting ‘no’ you vote ‘yes’ the Sacred Heart... will not only pay off the debt but will make us a great gift as well." He spoke with such certainty that they all changed their votes to "Yes."

John immediately set to work in Italy, but after a huge campaign and a lottery with 8,000 prizes, he still was far short. He could not keep the workers paid and they had just barely finished the roof.

So, he planned to go to France to ask for help. He was told this would not be a wise thing to do, since France was trying to raise money for their own Church of the Sacred Heart at the time. Also, they had just lifted the laws against Catholic schools so they were trying to build schools at a rapid pace. John ignored the warning, saying that France was a great and generous country and has money for every need. "I must perform this act of charity [allowing them to contribute] for the people of France."

He left on January 31, 1883. He was 68 years old and in miserable health, but he was driven to succeed in his sacred mission. His tour of France was a great success. The crowds were so great that the carriages which brought him could hardly move in the streets. In Paris, two biographies on him had been circulating for some time and so they were ready. The newspapers called him "the miracle-worker of the 19th century," and "the St. Vincent de Paul of Italy."

This time was exhausting for him. John would rise daily at 5 a.m., spend some hours in prayer and meditation and saying Mass. He would respond to letters, receive visitors asking his prayers, advice or a blessing. At 10 p.m. he and his secretary would close the doors to his residence and continue answering letters until midnight when he fell in bed, completely worn out.

They had to stop announcing in the newspapers where he would be going, the crowds were so great. He was scheduled to say Mass at Our Lady of Victory at 9 a.m., but at 7 a.m. the crowds were so large that it was impossible to get near the church. When John arrived the pastor had to come in procession with the altar servers to make a path for him.

A nobleman, Marquis Bouillé, begged John to come to visit his grandson who was dying. John assured him his grandson would live. A few hours later John arrived at the home of the Marquis and was told that the boy was in his final moments. John prayed by the boy’s bedside and then told the mother the boy would get better within an hour. Within the hour the boy did improve, and soon after was cured. Word of this got around Paris, and the leading families opened their doors wide to John Bosco.

When John returned home to Turin his health had deteriorated even more. Nonetheless, when he heard that the work had had to stop again due to lack of funds, he decided to go again to France, this time to the south, to ask for more money. All were against the idea, especially his doctor. John made out his will, in case he didn’t return, and on March 1, 1886 he left for France again.

By the time he got to Nice, he was terribly ill, coughing up blood. A doctor came to examine him and found that his liver was enlarged. He prescribed complete rest. John said he couldn’t rest with so much to do. He continued to meet people and to heal the sick by his prayers. Enthusiastic crowds greeted him and he received many donations for the church he was trying to build.

In April he traveled to Rome to seek full privileges for the Salesians and permission to hold another huge lottery for the church of the Sacred Heart. The Pope greeted him and urged him to take care of his health. Then, he granted him all the privileges he was seeking for his Order.

Late in 1886 John’s friends in Spain convinced him to visit them as he had promised, before he would be too sick to travel. So he went. His welcome at Barcelona was as great as, or greater than, his welcome in Paris. Forty coaches awaited him as his train pulled in to the station. Long lines of visitors came to see him, and he saw them from early morning until late at night.

The night before he left he went to pray at the shrine of Our Lady of Ransom. There, the head of the St. Vincent de Paul Society announced to him publicly that the many wealthy nobles in attendance had agreed to give John a piece of property on the highest hill near Barcelona that he might build another church in honor of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. John revealed to those attending that he felt moved to do something else to advance devotion to the Sacred Heart, now that the church in Rome was almost finished. He had felt a voice repeating that he would soon be shown the way to fulfill his wish. This would be it. Soon after, a small temporary church was built on that hill, but in 1914 a magnificent shrine was to be opened in honor of the Sacred Heart.

In late April, 1887 he arranged to go to Rome for the consecration of the church he had worked so hard to have finished. Many civil and church leaders met him when he arrived, and two miracles occurred at his intercession. He had a private meeting with the pope on September 14 and the next day John attended the consecration of the great church of the Sacred Heart.

Less than a year after the church was consecrated, John became ill for the last time. He was practically blind. His legs could no longer support him. From December 1887 he was unable to say Mass himself. All over the world people were praying for his recovery, but this was not to be.

John recovered enough in late December to write some letters and do some work. The doctor came and examined him and declared that there was no damage to the organs and he was not in any immediate danger. The doctor asked John if he had any strength left, and invited him to squeeze his hand to test him. He did, and the doctor cried out in pain, saying "With that kind of strength you could challenge me to a wrestling match!"

On January 28, 1888, after receiving Communion John said, "We have reached the end of our journey." He asked his secretary to take all the money out of his pockets and give it to his assistant, Fr. Rua. "I want to die so poor that they will say Don Bosco died without leaving a penny." On January 30 prayers for the dying were prayed at his bedside. Word was sent to the boys and they canceled classes and work. They filed by his bed one by one, kissing his hand, touching rosaries and crucifixes to his body.

He often spoke out, "Save the young!" "Mary!" "Mother!" He said "Tell the boys I shall meet them in heaven." At 1:45 a.m. he entered into his final agony. At 3 a.m. a telegram was received from the pope with the Apostolic Blessing.

On January 31, two days after the feast day of his patron, St. Francis de Sales, at 4:45 a.m. John Bosco uttered three sighs, and died. He was 72 years old.

Forty thousand people came to view his body in church. The whole city of Turin turned out for his funeral.

His cause for canonization was opened in 1890 and closed in 1897. He was beatified in 1929. Two months before his beatification Pius XI declared that in the life of John Bosco, "The extraordinary had become ordinary, and the supernatural natural." He was canonized in 1934. His feast is still celebrated on January 31, the day of his death.

REFLECTION

John Bosco had many gifts from the Lord, including a quick wit, an ability to get by with little sleep, and a fun-loving approach to life. John was, as the young people say today, "cool." Many have used this attractive trait to gain their own ends, such as money or women. John didn’t. He gave this, along with a willingness to relate personally to the young, and all his other gifts, back to the Lord. who multiplied them many-fold and used them to save thousands of poor young boys from being lost. It is a lesson for us: share what gifts you have with the Lord and let Him multiply them, and bring forth a great harvest.