The Life-saving Raft: Mystical Vision of Saint John Bosco | Ep. 61
7.2 هزار بار بازدید -
پارسال
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On Monday evening on the
On Monday evening on the first day of 1866, Don Bosco narrated the following dream to his boys:
"It seemed that I was not far from a town that looked like Castelnuovo d’Asti, but it was not. The boys of the Oratory were merrily playing in an immense plain. Suddenly water encroached upon the edges of that plain, and we realized we were surrounded by a flood, which advanced toward us. The swollen Po River had overflowed and, with immense, destructive torrents, it was coming right for us.
Overcome with terror, we ran for a large, isolated mill, which had walls as thick as those of a fortress. We and our dear, dismayed boys stopped in the courtyard of the mill. But as the waters began to seep into that area, too, we were all forced to retreat into the house and move into the upper rooms. From the windows, we could see the extent of the disaster.
From the Superga hills to the Alps—where we could usually make out meadows, cultivated fields, vegetable gardens, woods, farmsteads, villages, and towns—we could no longer see anything but an immense lake. As the water rose, we climbed from one floor to the next till we reached the highest floor. By the time we got to the top, we lost all human hope of saving ourselves. I encouraged all my boys to confidently commend themselves into the hands of God and the arms of our Blessed Mother Mary.
But the water had already almost reached the top floor of the mill. Then our fright was universal. We saw no other means of escape until a very large raft in the form of a ship floated near us out of nowhere. Everyone was breathless and wanted to be the first to take refuge in the raft. But no one dared because it could not come close enough to the house, being prevented by a wall a little taller than the water level. So, we had to walk on a long narrow tree trunk to board the raft. But this task was difficult because one end of the trunk rested on the raft, that rose and fell with the rolling waves.
Getting up my courage, I crossed over first. To help the young men move calmly from the mill to the raft, I assigned some clerics in the mill to help the boys leave it, and I had other clerics on the raft’s side who could help those arriving. After a while, the priests found themselves so tired that they were falling down with exhaustion. To my surprise, I saw that those who stepped in to relieve them met the same fate. Amazed, I too wanted to put myself to the test to see what was happening, and soon I felt so exhausted that I could no longer stand either.
Meanwhile, many eager young men—fearing death or wanting to show courage—found a wooden plank long enough and a little wider than the tree trunk and with that, they made a second bridge to the raft. Then, without waiting for the help form the clerics and priests, they rushed across it, not heeding me when I cried out to them to wait.
“Cease, cease, or else you will fall!” I shouted. But many lost their balance before they reached the boat. They fell and were swallowed by those murky and putrid waters, never to be seen again. Even their fragile plank sank with those on it. A quarter of our young men fell victim to this attempt.
Once I realized that the flood had risen above the dividing wall, I was able to push the raft closer to the mill. At this point, Don Cagliero stood with one foot on the mill’s window ledge and the other on the raft’s edge. He offered a hand to help the remaining young men safely jump into the raft.
Even so, not all the young men were saved. A number had ascended to the mill’s attics and from there to its roof. There they clustered tightly on the ridge while the flood, which had continued to rise without stopping, was already covering the eaves of the roof. But with the water had also risen the raft. So, I shouted to the group, recommending that they pray heartily, be quiet, and go down the roof to the raft together, gripping one another’s arms so they wouldn’t slip. They obeyed, and as the side of the raft reached the eaves, this group also made it aboard, aided by their companions. Once on the raft, we found baskets holding many loaves of bread.
When all were safely in the boat, we were still uncertain of escaping that danger. I took command as captain and said to the young men: “Mary is the Star of the Sea. She does not abandon those who trust in her. Let us all place ourselves under her mantle. She will rescue us from perils and guide us to a calm harbor.”
Become a Promoter of Saint John Bosco: https://saintjohnbosco.net/promoter-o...
New episodes every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 8:00 AM EST. #donboscostories
"It seemed that I was not far from a town that looked like Castelnuovo d’Asti, but it was not. The boys of the Oratory were merrily playing in an immense plain. Suddenly water encroached upon the edges of that plain, and we realized we were surrounded by a flood, which advanced toward us. The swollen Po River had overflowed and, with immense, destructive torrents, it was coming right for us.
Overcome with terror, we ran for a large, isolated mill, which had walls as thick as those of a fortress. We and our dear, dismayed boys stopped in the courtyard of the mill. But as the waters began to seep into that area, too, we were all forced to retreat into the house and move into the upper rooms. From the windows, we could see the extent of the disaster.
From the Superga hills to the Alps—where we could usually make out meadows, cultivated fields, vegetable gardens, woods, farmsteads, villages, and towns—we could no longer see anything but an immense lake. As the water rose, we climbed from one floor to the next till we reached the highest floor. By the time we got to the top, we lost all human hope of saving ourselves. I encouraged all my boys to confidently commend themselves into the hands of God and the arms of our Blessed Mother Mary.
But the water had already almost reached the top floor of the mill. Then our fright was universal. We saw no other means of escape until a very large raft in the form of a ship floated near us out of nowhere. Everyone was breathless and wanted to be the first to take refuge in the raft. But no one dared because it could not come close enough to the house, being prevented by a wall a little taller than the water level. So, we had to walk on a long narrow tree trunk to board the raft. But this task was difficult because one end of the trunk rested on the raft, that rose and fell with the rolling waves.
Getting up my courage, I crossed over first. To help the young men move calmly from the mill to the raft, I assigned some clerics in the mill to help the boys leave it, and I had other clerics on the raft’s side who could help those arriving. After a while, the priests found themselves so tired that they were falling down with exhaustion. To my surprise, I saw that those who stepped in to relieve them met the same fate. Amazed, I too wanted to put myself to the test to see what was happening, and soon I felt so exhausted that I could no longer stand either.
Meanwhile, many eager young men—fearing death or wanting to show courage—found a wooden plank long enough and a little wider than the tree trunk and with that, they made a second bridge to the raft. Then, without waiting for the help form the clerics and priests, they rushed across it, not heeding me when I cried out to them to wait.
“Cease, cease, or else you will fall!” I shouted. But many lost their balance before they reached the boat. They fell and were swallowed by those murky and putrid waters, never to be seen again. Even their fragile plank sank with those on it. A quarter of our young men fell victim to this attempt.
Once I realized that the flood had risen above the dividing wall, I was able to push the raft closer to the mill. At this point, Don Cagliero stood with one foot on the mill’s window ledge and the other on the raft’s edge. He offered a hand to help the remaining young men safely jump into the raft.
Even so, not all the young men were saved. A number had ascended to the mill’s attics and from there to its roof. There they clustered tightly on the ridge while the flood, which had continued to rise without stopping, was already covering the eaves of the roof. But with the water had also risen the raft. So, I shouted to the group, recommending that they pray heartily, be quiet, and go down the roof to the raft together, gripping one another’s arms so they wouldn’t slip. They obeyed, and as the side of the raft reached the eaves, this group also made it aboard, aided by their companions. Once on the raft, we found baskets holding many loaves of bread.
When all were safely in the boat, we were still uncertain of escaping that danger. I took command as captain and said to the young men: “Mary is the Star of the Sea. She does not abandon those who trust in her. Let us all place ourselves under her mantle. She will rescue us from perils and guide us to a calm harbor.”
Become a Promoter of Saint John Bosco: https://saintjohnbosco.net/promoter-o...
New episodes every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 8:00 AM EST. #donboscostories
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در تاریخ 1402/03/22 منتشر شده
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