Saint Josephine Bakhita

Saint Josephine Bakhita 

Patroness of Sudan

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TABLE OF 

CONTENTS 

COVER 

The cover is an artist rendition 

depicting Saint Josephine Bakhita as 

a slave in her native land of Sudan. 

Behind her is a slave caravan and her 

beloved continent of Africa. She is 

holding chains representing her years 

in slavery and the crucifix which was 

given to her before her Baptism. 

FEATURE 

THE CHURCH 


Flower of the African Desert 1 

The life of Saint Josephine Bakhita is a 

journey of incredible grace. She was kidnapped, 

abused, and sold into slavery. However, what 

could have been fuel for a deep and lasting 

hatred turned to be the greatest blessing of her 

life. By the grace of God and help from some 

faithful friends she found forgiveness and peace 

in the Catholic Faith. Her key to heroic sanctity: 

living her life day by day with Jesus, her 

true Master. 

Prayer for Our Enemies 24 

One of the greatest marks of true Catholic 

charity is offering special prayer for those who 

persecute us. We should pray for their conversions 

and help them to get to Heaven.

Volume LXIV, No. 1 

Serial No. 120 

Our Guardian Angels 29 

From the time we were born God has given each 

one of us a guardian angel to watch over, protect, and 

love us. Are we aware of just how much our angelic 

friends do for us and what we owe them in return? 

Cheerfulness 35 

Saint Teresa of Avila once exclaimed, “From sourfaced 

saints, good Lord, deliver us!” The important 

virtue of cheerfulness springs from our Catholic Faith. 

Inspire others to be cheerful by being an Apostle of 

Cheerfulness! 

Little Saints 38 

God gives everyone the grace to become a saint 

and saints are not just people whom we read about— 

they are ordinary people we come across in daily life. 

The Dolors of Mary 40 

In expressions of loving devotion, Saint Alphonsus 

reveals that the Sorrowful Heart of Mary was 

truly the heart of a martyr. She indeed suffered a long 

martyrdom, a martyrdom which lasted her whole life. 

THE CENTER 

Hope 43 

This supernatural virtue intrinsically links those 

of Faith and Charity while giving us a foretaste of our 

heavenly reward if we trust in God and His promises. 

Plainly Speaking 45 

A word from the Superior.


Patroness of Sudan

Sister Marie-Celine, MICM 

Saint 

Josephine Bakhita 

Flower of the African Desert 

y entire life has been a gift of God.” – This gratitude hardly seems 

“Mbelievable coming from someone who had been sold into slavery 

and was abused for a number of years. Yet, it came from a soul who found 

God in spite of the worst circumstances. In a time when God was raising 

up great saints: Saints Bernadette and Therese in France, John Bosco and 

Pius X in Italy, Damien at Molokai, He was forming a beautiful soul in the 

arid sands of Africa. In an incredible journey from slave to child of God, 

to religious Sister, Josephine Bakhita became an example of humility and 

heroic spirituality. This tender flower of the African desert blossomed and 

was picked by God to share her wondrous story of grace and forgiveness 

with the world. She tells us, “I here dictate some of the events in my life… 

May these recollections of mine serve to make me always better appreciate 

the great gift God has given to me in choosing me to be His spouse.” 

Africa 

In the Darfur region of Africa in western Sudan, lay the little village 

of Olgossa. It was occupied by the once nomadic Daju tribe, who settled 

in this surprisingly beautiful, fertile, and lush area, to become crop farmers. 

They were a peaceful and hard-working people. Family values were 

cherished and polygamy was not practiced among them. 

Bakhita was born into a loving and happy family in 1869. Her real 

name is not known. Her family was considered well-to-do, and her uncle 

was even chief of the village. They worked in the fields and were loved 

much by the villagers. Bakhita recounts, “I was raised by my father and 

my mother, with three brothers, three sisters and four others I never knew 

because they died before I was born.” Bakhita would always recall later 

how much she loved her family and how kind her parents were. 


1

Though their village was far removed 

from the other cities and towns, 

the people of the Daju tribe were 

touched by the fear and harm of slave 

raiders. They were living in a time 

when kings, governments, moneyhungry 

and greedy people exploited 

native Africans to fulfill their quota of 

slaves to work in other countries. Aside 

from internal trafficking, America and 

Europe were the main culprits of slave 

trade in Africa. It unfortunately made 

its way to Bakhita’s village. 

One day, Bakhita went to the fields 

with her mother, while her married 

older sister stayed home with her baby 

son and Bakhita’s twin. The workers 

in the fields suddenly noticed a great 

commotion in the village. People were 

running in panic, houses were on fire, 

people had been murdered, mutilated or 

kidnapped. “We quickly returned home, 

and to our dismay we were told by the 

little one, all frightened and trembling, 

how the marauders had carried the older 

sister away and how she herself had 

only just barely escaped by hiding.” 

When Bakhita’s father returned in 

the evening, search parties were organized 

which looked for hours but never 

found anyone. It was a heart-wrenching 

scene. Parents bewailed the loss of their 

children, families were inconsolable, 

erupting in moaning and anger over the 

slaughter. People, despairing of finding 

their abducted loved ones, turned to 

the village witchdoctor. The trusting 

villagers, not knowing any better, always 

had recourse to his superstitious 

practices. In their 

present predicament, the witchdoctor 

called for horrific sacrifices and gory 

rituals. Eventually, however, the people 

realized that neither the witchdoctor nor 

his demonic incantations could bring 

their family members back. 

Up to this point Bakhita recalls, “I 

had had a very happy life, never knowing 

what it meant to suffer…this was 

my first experience of suffering, and oh, 

how many more would soon follow.” 

Although time went on and emotions 

settled, memories of loved ones 

and the scars of pain always remained 

for Bakhita’s family. Just as one wound 

healed, another would soon be inflicted. 

Kidnapped 

Bakhita was about eight or nine 

years old. 

“…One morning, after breakfast, I went 

with one of my friends…on a walk in 

our fields, away from the house. Having 

finished our games, we decided to 

go pick some herbs.” While they were 

busying themselves, two men walked 

out from the forest and approached the 

girls. One asked Bakhita if she could 

go and get his bundle for him, which 

he said was by the edge of the forest. 

Her friend was told to wait for her on 

the path. Bakhita recounted the event, 

“I did not suspect anything. I quickly 

went and obeyed, as I always did with 

my mother.” 

“As soon as I entered the woods, 

looking for the bundle that I could not 

find, I realized that those two were right 

behind me. One grabbed me roughly 

with one hand while he pulled out a big 

knife from his belt with the other. He 

put the point of the knife against my 

side and with a demanding voice said, 

‘If you scream, you’re dead. Now move 

it. Follow us.’ The other one pushed 

2 From The HouseTops

me, aiming the barrel of his gun at my 

back. I was petrified.” 

“Violently pushed through the 

thick woods, along the hidden pathways 

and over fields, I was made to walk at 

a fast pace until evening. I was dead 

tired. My feet and legs were bleeding 

from stepping on sharp rocks and from 

walking through thorny brambles. All 

I could do the whole time was sob, but 

those hard hearts felt no pity.” 

In this part of her story, Bakhita 

receives her name. In her book Tale of 

Wonder, Ida Zanolini, who interviewed 

Bakhita later on in life, recounts how 

this came about. As the men dragged 

the poor child through the forest, one of 

them asked her what her name was. On 

account of the frightful ordeal and mental 

stress she was experiencing, she was 

unable to remember it. “Tell him what 

your name is!” She could not. “Don’t 

waste time…call her Bakhita,” which 

in Arabic means ‘fortunate’ or ‘lucky.’ 

The three stopped only for a short 

time to rest and to eat, but Bakhita 

was too frightened to eat. Then they 

continued through the night. “At dawn 

we arrived in their village. I could not 

have gone any farther. One of the men 

grasped me by the hand and dragged 

me to his home and put me in a storage 

room full of tools and scraps of wood. 

There was no bed or covering of any 

kind. The bare earth would have to 

serve as both. I was given a piece of 

dark bread and was told, ‘Stay here.’ 

Then the door was closed and locked 

with a key.” 

For over a month Bakhita was 

confined to that little room. Years later, 

recounting her sufferings there she 

stated, “I still remember those hours of 

anguish when, exhausted from crying, I 

would fall to the floor, limp, completely 


Raiders destroyed villages and captured many 

people to sell as slaves. 

numb, while my imagination carried me 

to my loved ones far, far away.” These 

thoughts of her family, their deep love 

and the hope of seeing them again, 

would help her through many more 

trials. “But alas, when I returned to the 

hard reality of my horrible solitude, I 

was overcome by a feeling of discouragement 

that seemed to shatter my 

heart.” 

Her captors were Arab slave-traders. 

One morning as Bakhita was finally 

let out from the hut, the pitiful sight 

of a group of slaves trudging along 

the road met her eyes. Within a short 

time, she was purchased by the trader 

in charge of the caravan, thereby joining 

the ranks of those destined for the 

slave market. “They were three men 

and three women; one was a girl a little 

older than I.” 

“Soon we were on the road. Just 

seeing the countryside, the sky, the water, 

just being able to breathe fresh air 

3

The slave traders had no mercy on the sick or weak in the caravan. 

gave me a bit of life again, even though 

I did not know where I would end up.” 

After eight days of walking, the 

caravan arrived at the slave market. 

“The two of us who were the smallest 

were always close to one another, since 

our feet were tied together by the same 

chain. When nobody was watching, we 

would tell each other our stories how 

we had been kidnapped. We talked 

about our dear families, and our talk 

increased our desire to return to our 

families more and more. As we lamented 

our unhappy fate, we also thought 

about plans somehow to escape. The 

good Lord, who was watching over us, 

though we did not realize at the time, 

gave us such an occasion. Here is how 

it happened.” 

Escape 

“The owner put us in a separate 

room and always locked us in, especially 

when he had to leave the house. 

It was almost dinnertime. Having returned 

from the market, he led to the 

house a mule loaded with ears of corn. 

He came and undid our chains, ordering 

us to unload the corn and to feed the 

mule. He then departed, absentmindedly 

leaving the door unlocked. We 

were alone and without chains. God’s 

providence–now was the time.” 

The two girls took off as fast as 

they could through forests and deserts. 

Passing caravans and possible attacks 

of wild animals gripped them with fear. 

Sister Mariannina Turco, to whom 

Bakhita told the following incident 

years later, recalls, “Bakhita once told 

me that something happened after she 

and her companion escaped from their 

owner, on the very first night they spent 

in the forest. While everything was dark 

all around them and they were hiding 

under some plants, she suddenly saw a 

beautiful figure take shape in the sky. 

Surrounded by light, this figure was 

smiling at her and pointed out the way 

she should follow. Without telling anything 

about this to her companion, she 

confidently followed the direction that 

this mysterious figure indicated. In this 

way, she found the strength and courage 


to continue on and thus they were saved 

from the wild beasts. Near dawn the 

figure disappeared, and she did not see 

it again.” God was watching over them. 

The next day the thought of reaching 

their families pushed them on in 

hope. “Near sundown we saw a little 

cottage. Our hearts began to beat rapidly. 

We strained our eyes to see if it 

was our house. It was not. What bitterness, 

how disillusioned we felt! As we 

stood there thinking about what to do 

next, a man appeared right in front of 

us. Frightened, we were about to flee.” 

Seeing their distress, he asked 

them where they were going. They 

answered they were looking for their 

parents. Willing to help them, he invited 

them to rest. After a short time, 

the man took them to his house and 

gave them something to eat. However, 

the next thing they knew they were tied 

and chained in the animal pen. 

“Here we were, slaves again! So 

much for taking us to our parents. How 

we cried, how we suffered. We were 

left there for days, until a slave trader 

passed through. Then we were taken 

out of the pen and sold to that man.” 

Kordofan 

The girls traveled with the new 

slave trader until they reached the main 

caravan heading for the market. Those 

who were weak or considered a burden 

to the caravan were killed, beaten, or 

left behind in the desert. Days went 

by where the slaves had no water to 

quench their burning thirst. For almost 

three weeks they wearily followed in 

the miserable procession until they arrived 

at the city of El Obeid, the capital 

of Kordofan. Located in the “African 

Uplands” in Arab and Muslim territory, 

Kordofan was one of the largest 


slave markets of the world. Out of 

the 100,000 people living in Kordofan, 

80,000 were slaves. The slaves in 

Bakhita’s caravan did not have much 

of a chance to see the city, as they were 

herded into warehouses and separated 

into categories according to healthiness. 

Bakhita was placed in the best one 

because she was a stunningly beautiful 

child with a healthy and robust constitution. 

“When we finally arrived in the 

city, we were brought to the house of 

the Arab leader [thought to be the governor]. 

He was an extremely rich man 

and already owned a large number of 

slaves, all in the flower of their youth. 

My companion and I were destined to 

be the handmaids of the young ladies 

who were his daughters…The owner’s 

intention was to present us as gifts to 

his son when he got married.” 

She felt a joyous time of peace 

here, a welcome change from the sorrow 

she had been through. She liked 

her new mistresses, and they treated her 

almost with affection. She was at their 

beck and call whenever they wanted to 

play or needed some entertainment. By 

5

her good nature she soon became the 

favorite, much to the envy of the other 

slaves. Three months passed by in this 

calm. One day, however, the owner’s 

son ordered Bakhita to fetch him a 

beautiful vase, which she dropped on 

the way. The young man exploded with 

threats and in a fit of anger started to 

kick and whip the poor girl. The fact 

that her mistresses watched on indifferently 

cut her to the quick. It took 

Bakhita a month to recover from the 

beating, and the only slave that did not 

taunt or leave her helpless was the little 

girl with whom she had arrived. 

The Turkish General 

It was not long before Bakhita 

was sold, for a third time, to a Turkish 

general who was passing through. The 

man’s mother and wife proved to be 

horrible and utterly wicked mistresses, 

demanding the superhuman from the 

poor slaves who lived in a constant 

state of fear from blows and whips. 

“The blows would fall on us without 

mercy. In the three years I spent in their 

service, I do not remember a day going 

by without my being hit. The wounds I 

received one day would not be healed 

before others were added the next, 

without my knowing why.” 

“Poor victims of inhuman tyranny,” 

Bakhita would say about the slaves 

who, under these new owners, were 

subject to the basest cruelties. Even if 

they did nothing wrong they were used 

at times as something on which to vent 

anger. The general once ordered two 

soldiers to beat Bakhita and another 

slave. “I remember how they took aim 

at my thighs with the cane, taking away 

skin and flesh and giving me a long 

gash that left me immobile in bed for 

months. All of this had to be endured 

in silence because nobody came to 

dress our wounds or offer us a word 

of comfort. How many of my ill-fated 

companions died from the blows they 

suffered.” 

If only to make things worse, 

Bakhita and the other slaves were subjected 

to tattooing in order to show to 

whom they belonged. Unlike methods 

of today, the markings were made by 

very painful, deep incisions, intended 

to become scars. Bakhita was branded 

with over a hundred. “I could not tell 

you how I felt. It seemed I was dying 

every moment.” Later on, Bakhita 

would remark, “I can honestly say that 

the reason I did not die was that the 

Lord miraculously destined me for better 

things.” 

In the wonders of God’s grace, 

especially in the life of Bakhita, it is no 

small miracle that she was preserved 

from becoming victim to the filth and 

immorality that ran rampant in these 

horrible situations. In later years she 

would recall that it was through Our 

Lady and her Guardian Angel’s protection 

that she was never harmed in 

that way. “I have been in the middle of 

mud,” Bakhita recounted, “but I never 

got dirty.” 

The Italian Consul 

Bakhita noticed that the general 

began to grow uneasy. A revolution 

was taking place against the Egyptian 

government in the Sudan. Which up to 

this time had imposed slavery and high 

taxes and had controlled all Sudanese 

trade. In 1863, when Khedive Ismail 

came to power as new governor, he 

established an anti-slavery campaign. 

This did not sit well with those who 

made a living from slave trade. Also, he 

put the country in debt by misusing the 


The Mahdists’ attack on Khartoum happened 

shortly after Bakhita left. 

funds set aside for the Suez Canal. He 

brought in the British to help stop slave 

trading. The British became involved 

in the campaign and at the same time 

offered to pay Ismail’s debts so they 

could have a large part in controlling 

the Canal. Ismail then appointed British 

General Charles Gordon as governor. 

In 1881, Muhammed Ahmed, a 

fervent Muslim, declared himself the 

Mahdi, “the Guided One,” the establisher 

of a perfect Islamic world. He interpreted 

the actions of the government, 

that of Ismail and Gordon, as a threat to 

Islam. His main goal was to unite the 

Sudanese under Islamic rule, essentially 

declaring jihad or “holy war” on the 

existing Egyptian government. To Muhammed, 

anyone considered a foreigner 

in the area was labeled “a Turk” and an 

enemy to his regime. This labeling was 

accurate because a large majority of inhabitants 

of Sudan were not Sudanese, 

but Turkish. 


It is understandable, then, that 

the Turkish general wanted to move 

out of the country. In 1882, fearing 

that Muhammed would take his city 

of El Obeid, he packed up his camels 

and ten of his best slaves and headed 

for Khartoum, about 263 miles north. 

Bakhita was among the number. The 

journey was long and the conditions 

were filthy, but in spite of the inconvenience, 

Bakhita enjoyed the novelty of 

riding on a camel! “After a number of 

days traveling we stopped at a hotel in 

Khartoum. There [the general] sent out 

word that he had slaves for sale.” An 

Italian consul by the name of Calisto 

Legnani made arrangements with the 

general and bought Bakhita. “This 

time I was truly lucky, because the new 

master was very good and was very 

fond of me. My job was to help the 

chambermaid with housework. I did not 

get scolded, punished, or beaten; it did 

not seem true that one could enjoy such 

peace and tranquility.” 

After a couple years, towards the 

end of 1884, the climax of the Mahdist 

revolution was taking place. Besides 

wanting to get away from the tumult, 

Legnani needed to return to Italy because 

of the collapse of his commercial 

business. Bakhita remembered, “… 

When I heard the name of Italy, of 

whose beauty and charm I knew nothing, 

my heart was filled with the most 

fervent desire–the desire to follow my 

master. Because he liked me so much, 

I dared to ask him to bring me to Italy 

with him. I insisted so much that in the 

end he consented. I knew later that it 

was God Who wanted this to happen. I 

can still taste the joy I felt at the time.” 

So began the journey to Italy. 

The little group of travelers consisted 

of Legnani and his friend, Augus- 

7

to Michieli, Bakhita, and a little African 

boy whom Legnani had rescued earlier. 

They made the trek of 480 miles to the 

Red Sea port of Suakin. They left Khartoum 

just in time! A month after their 

departure the Mahdist revolutionaries 

took the city of Khartoum and wreaked 

havoc and destruction, carrying away 

all slaves with them. “If I had remained 

there, I certainly would have been 

stolen, and then what would have happened 

to me? How grateful to the Lord 

I was for having saved me yet again.” 

Sailing across oceans was a completely 

new experience for Bakhita. 

Everything was foreign to her–the different 

sights, beautiful ocean sunsets, 

the cool, salty air. She was leaving her 

native land for the first time. When the 

ship landed in Genoa, Italy, Bakhita and 

the little boy were amazed at the busy 

port. To see an African boy and girl in 

Italy was not at all common, and they 

attracted the attention of many people 

who wanted to look at them. According 

to Bakhita, the group “found lodging 

in a hotel owned by a man whom the 

consul’s friend knew very well and 

who had asked him the favor of acquiring 

[an African] boy for him. As a 

result, the one who had been my travel 

companion was soon given to this hotel 

owner.” 

“The wife of the consul’s friend, 

who had come to meet him, saw us 

[Africans] and wanted one. She asked 

her husband why he had not brought 

one back for her and her daughter. 

The consul, to please his friend and 

his wife, gave me to them as a gift.” 

Bakhita would never again see Legnani, 

the nice consul who had rescued her 

from the tyranny of slavery. 

The Michielis 

The Michieli Household in Mirano, Italy. The window of Bakhita’s 

room was the small one on the left above the gate. 

Augusto and Turina Michieli lived 

in the beautiful area of Zianigo, Mirano 

near Venice. They had three children, 

one of whom died as an infant. The 

last was a little girl Alice Alessandrina, 

who was called by the nickname 

of “Mimmina.” The Michielis had 

brought Bakhita to be her nanny. When 

they arrived home with her, the whole 

neighborhood came out with excited 

curiosity. The children of the neighborhood 

were very afraid 

of Bakhita at first. They 

had never seen an African 

before–her skin was 

so dark! Only the bravest 

among the children 

came up to touch her 

to see if her blackness 

would rub off on them! 

The news of the new 

nanny in the Michieli 

household spread very 

quickly among the 

townspeople, even to 

Signor Illuminato Checchini. 

Checchini was a 

very loving and deeply 


spiritual man who took his Faith seriously. 

He grew up the son of a cartwright 

in Salzano, Italy. He had been 

the organist at the church where Father 

Giuseppe Sarto was parish priest. Little 

did Checchini suspect that the parish 

priest with whom he shared many 

ideas, and even played cards, would 

one day become the great Pope Saint 

Pius X. Lifelong connections would 

be made between the two, even in the 

case of Bakhita. Considered a trustful 

and good family friend, Checchini 

would take care of the Michieli estate 

when they were traveling on business. 

He was one of the first people to come 

to the house to inquire formally about 

“Moretta” (the black girl). Checchini 

was overjoyed at seeing Bakhita. He 

saw her as a poor soul that God had 

brought to them. Although she currently 

belonged to the Michielis, Checchini 

wanted Bakhita to meet his own family, 

and eventually to become, not a slave 

in his household, but a member of his 

family, and of the Church. 

Time went on and people became 

used to seeing Bakhita going about her 

chores. Although communication was 

hard at first because of the language 

barriers, Bakhita managed to pick up 

the Venetian dialect. Although her 

mastery of the language was far from 

perfect, people could understand the 

happiness by her soft and sincere smile, 

or observe the distant pain of past sorrow 

in her dark eyes. 

In her role as nanny, Bakhita enjoyed 

taking care of Mimmina. “This 

little one liked me a great deal, and I 

of course reciprocated with equal affection.” 

She would take her for walks 

and would frequently stop in to visit 

the Checchinis, who always received 

her graciously. It was at this household 


Mr. Illuminato Checchini 

that Bakhita was introduced to the 

Faith. Up to this time she had practiced 

no religion, but her reason and natural 

goodness pointed her in the right direction 

toward truth. “I knew nothing of 

idols. I just looked at the stars, so beautiful 

as they were, and the bright sun, 

and I kept repeating: I love the Person 

who made all these wonderful things.” 

Checchini was anxious for this soul 

to find the love and peace of Christ, 

and he knew he had to do something 

to help her become a child of God in 

Baptism. It was not an easy task. Augusto 

Michieli and his wife were not 

religious people by any means. Turina 

in particular was against Catholicism, 

so the mere mention of it, or anything 

related to it, was strictly forbidden. 

Bakhita was not even allowed to go 

into the village church. In spite of this 

obstacle, Checchini was able to show 

her some basic prayers and persuade 

9

The Institute of Catechumens (on left) 

where Bakhita was instructed in the faith. 

the Michielis’ housemaid to secretly 

help Bakhita learn them. “Without 

knowing God, without knowing what 

the words meant, I had a good feeling 

in my soul when I repeated them. I did 

not only repeat them morning and evening 

with Mimmina in her room, but 

also several times during the day and 

even on the streets and in the gardens 

where I went with the child.” 

One day, around the year 1887, 

Turina received a message from her 

husband, Augusto, who was presently 

in Suakin, Africa. He ordered her, Mimmina 

and Bakhita to leave immediately 

and return to Africa to help him run the 

hotel he owned. 

Bakhita had been in Italy for three 

years now, and she was now almost 

twenty years old. She had become accustomed 

to daily life in Italy and had 

developed a friendship with the Checchini 

family. The thought of leaving 

Italy was heartbreaking; for it was there 

that she finally felt security 

and stability which was nonexistent 

previous to her arrival. 

Following her master’s 

command, she and the family 

departed for Africa. 

In Suakin her job at the 

hotel, aside from minding 

Mimmina, was that of barmaid. 

It was often undesirable, 

due to the rough clientele 

who would frequent 

the bar. However, Bakhita, 

always hoping to return again 

to Italy, made the most of 

her time there. Her simple 

manner and natural goodness 

were visible to everyone 

who met her. “Nobody 

ever dared not to show me 

respect.” She recounts, “I 

stayed there for about nine months, 

after which the master decided that the 

whole family was going to settle there. 

His wife, however, would return to 

Italy in order to sell their property and 

pack up furniture.” Not everything went 

as planned. Turina wanted Mimmina 

to come with her, but when the child 

showed so vehemently that she could 

not leave her nanny, Turina was forced 

to bring Bakhita with her. “In my heart, 

I therefore bid an eternal farewell to 

Africa. A voice inside me told me that 

I would never see my continent again.” 

The Institute of Catechumens 

Not long after their return to Italy 

in 1888, Turina sold their estate. She 

was going to temporarily stay with her 

husband in Suakin and come back to 

Italy to close up everything before a 

final move to Africa. However, fearing 

that the two trips would be too hard 

on little Mimmina, Turina looked for 


alternative places for Bakhita and the 

girl to stay in the meantime. Checchini 

had the perfect solution. He would 

make arrangements for them to stay at 

the Institute of Catechumens in nearby 

Venice. The Institute was originally 

opened in 1557, for the purpose of 

accommodating the overwhelming 

number of converts seeking instruction 

in the Faith. In 1848, the Institute was 

turned over to the order of Canossian 

Sisters, founded by Saint Magdalene of 

Canossa. They ran a school for the poor 

and offered catechesis for anyone who 

wanted it. 

Although the Michielis trusted 

Checchini’s advice, Turina was uncomfortable 

because that they would 

be staying at a religious institution. He 

would have to wait for an answer. “Mr. 

Illuminato [Checchini] was so concerned 

that I should be admitted to the 

Institute of Catechumens that he gave 

his written word on a stamped document 

that, in the unlikely event that the 

lady did not fulfill her obligation [of 

paying room and board] he would pay 

for it himself.” 

In the meantime Checchini gave 

Bakhita a crucifix. “As he gave me the 

crucifix he kissed it with devotion, then 

explained that Jesus Christ, the Son of 

God, had died for me. I did not know 

what a crucifix was, but I was moved 

by a mysterious power to keep it hidden, 

out of fear that the lady would take 

it away. I had never hidden anything 

before, because I had never been attached 

to anything. I remember that I 

looked at it in secret and felt something 

inside that I could not explain.” 

Turina finally consented to their 

stay with the Sisters. She and the Checchini 

family brought Bakhita and Mimmina 

to meet the Sisters. “…We were 


both received at the house of catechumens. 

The little girl and I were entrusted 

to the care of a nun, Maria Fabbretti, 

who was in charge of catechetical instruction. 

I am unable to remember 

without tears how well she took care of 

me. She wanted to know if I desired to 

become a Christian, and sensing that I 

did and that I had come there with that 

intention, she was overjoyed.” Bakhita 

was now considered a catechumen, a 

person seeking to become a member of 

the Church. 

Through the help of the Sisters, 

the prayers which previously she had 

repeated without knowing their meaning 

came alive to Bakhita. “So those 

holy mothers [the Sisters] instructed me 

with heroic patience and introduced me 

to that God Who from childhood I had 

felt in my heart without knowing who 

He was. I experienced a great desire 

to see Him and know Him and honor 

Him.” 

This desire increased when she 

learned of the grace of Baptism. She 

was not able to grasp the idea of it at 

first. To become a Child of God seemed 

like a completely foreign concept to 

her. After years of slavery, of being 

subject to horrific torments and cruel 

masters, how was it that God, the most 

loving Master, could possibly want 

her, a poor slave, as His child? So she 

thought. With the kindly reassurance of 

her Sisters, she would recite in awe the 

words of the Our Father over and over 

again, slowly realizing the wondrous 

miracle that was taking place in her 

soul. 

The Confrontation 

About nine months elapsed in this 

state of peace and instruction. God, 

Who tests the strength of a heart’s 

11

devotion like gold in the furnace, now 

sent Bakhita a trial which would change 

her life forever. At the end of November, 

1889, Turina Michieli returned 

from Africa, having finished selling of 

their property. Then she came to the Institute 

to pick up Bakhita and Mimmina 

to take them permanently to the hotel 

in Suakin. Bakhita, used to this new 

life at the convent and full of hope and 

the love of God, could not bear to be 

separated from the place of her newlyfound 

Faith. When Turina arrived she 

met with unexpected defiance from a 

very decided young woman. “‘No, I 

will not leave the house of the Lord. It 

would be my ruin.’ I refused to go back 

to Africa with her because I was not 

yet well instructed for Baptism. I also 

thought that, even if I had been baptized 

already, it would not have been 

equally possible to profess my new 

religion and that therefore it was better 

for me to stay with the Sisters.” 

“The lady flew into a rage, accusing 

me of being ungrateful in making 

her go back alone after she had done 

so much for me, but I remained firm in 

my thinking. She gave me one reason 

after another, but I would not bend to 

any of them. And yet it hurt to see her 

so disgusted with me, for I truly loved 

her. It was the Lord who filled me with 

such firmness because He wanted to 

make me all His. O goodness! The next 

day she returned in the company of another 

lady, and she tried to change my 

mind again with the harshest threats, 

but to no avail. They went away greatly 

vexed.” 

A series of meetings were to follow 

this incident. The superior of the Order 

brought the matter to the Patriarch of 

Venice, who then consulted with the 

king’s attorney general. The lawyer 

confirmed that Turina no longer had 

ownership of Bakhita due to a law 

which abolished the bondage of any 

slave who set foot onto Italian soil. “I 

was in fact quite free. Lady Turina also 

went to the attorney general of the king, 

thinking that she could prevail upon 

him to agree with her, but she received 

the same response.” 

“On the third day, she returned to 

the Institute again, accompanied by the 

same lady and by her brother-in-law, a 

military officer. Others were present as 

well, even His Eminence, the Patriarch 

Domenico Agostini, the president of the 

Congregation of Charity, the superior of 

the Institute, and some of the Sisters of 

the Catechumenate. The patriarch spoke 

first. A long discussion followed, which 

ended in my favor. Weeping with rage 

and sorrow, Lady Turina took her little 

girl, who could not bear to be separated 

from me and who tried to make me go 

with her. I was so upset that I was unable 

to speak a word. I left crying and 

withdrew, happy that I had not given in.” 

Child of God and Bride of 

Christ 

The new year brought great joy to 

Bakhita. Sister Maria Fabretti relates 

that Bakhita’s “preparation for Baptism 

was lived completely in the presence 

of God. She was happy above all else 

to be considered worthy of becoming a 

child of God. When I asked her whether 

she wanted to know the Lord, she responded 

‘Yes!’ I was struck by the 

tremendous joy that was inside of that 

Yes.” On January 9, surrounded by her 

Sisters, the Checchini family, Cardinal 

Agostini, and a number of noble families 

of the area, Bakhita “received, with 

a joy only angels could describe, holy 

Baptism. I took the names Giuseppina, 


Margherita, and Fortunata 

[Italian for Lucky]. On the 

same day I received confirmation 

and Communion. Oh, 

what an unforgettable day!” 

The custom for the newly 

baptized was to spend another 

year of formation at the 

Catechumenate. Once this 

year passed, Bakhita begged 

for another. Although the 

Checchinis had frequently 

welcomed her to become part 

of their family, she started to 

experience an inexpressible 

feeling, that of a vocation to 

the religious life. “I did not 

know how to explain myself. I 

felt unworthy. I was convinced 

that since I was of the Black 

race, I would disfigure the congregation 

and I would not be 

accepted.” 

Far from rejecting her, 

the Sisters were overjoyed at 

her petition, and the Mother 

Superior even stated that she 

would “clothe me with the holy habit 

and, when the time came, receive my 

profession of vows.” 

Her time of novitiate started on 

December 7, 1893. From the very start 

her fellow novices noticed her exemplary 

ways, her great devotedness and 

willingness to help. About a year and a 

half passed by; and on the feast of the 

Sacred Heart of Jesus, 1895, Bakhita 

received the habit of the Canossians. 

As she began this new chapter in her 

life she, according to Saint Paul, put on 

the new man, who according to God is 

created in justice and holiness of truth. 

Before profession of vows, it was 

customary for those who desired to 

become Sisters to go through a special 

Pope Saint Pius X , when he was Patriarch of Venice, met 

with Bakhita before her profession. 

time of questioning. This was to ensure 

that the aspirant’s motives were 

pure, and that she was prepared to 

accept the duties in becoming a Bride 

of Christ. Usually a priest or Church 

official would conduct the meeting. 

In the case of Bakhita, her questioner 

was none other than Giuseppe Sarto, 

presently Patriarch of Venice. There are 

no records of words exchanged by the 

two saints during this meeting, but on 

leaving, Sarto told her to “Make your 

sacred vows without fear. Jesus wants 

you; Jesus loves you. Always love him 

and serve him in this way.” 

Bakhita did so. On the beautiful 

Feast of the Immaculate Conception, 

December 8, 1896, Bakhita made her 


13

profession of vows. The poor slave 

whose sorrowful history had humbled 

her unceasingly, now was exalted to 

the greatest dignity for a woman on 

earth. She had answered the call of her 

Beloved Paron (Venetian for Master) 

when He said to her soul, Arise, make 

haste my love, my dove, my beautiful 

one, and come! (Cant. 2:10) 

Life as a Religious 

The story that follows 

over the next 

fifty-one years of 

her religious life, 

although not as 

adventurous 

or exciting as 

her journey 

from slavery, 

reveals Bakhita’s 

beautiful 

virtue of 

perseverance. 

The charm of 

the novitiate, 

the newness of 

community life 

or the fervor of 

her first years in 

religion never diminished 

as years went by. 

The custom of the Order 

was that the Sisters in the community 

were addressed as “Mother” 

instead of “Sister,” and Bakhita soon 

became known as Mother Moretta, 

taken from the nickname she received 

when she arrived in Italy. Her tasks at 

the convent in Venice consisted in sewing, 

embroidering, and making glass 

beaded crafts to sell to support the community. 

Since the Institute was also an 

orphanage for young girls, Bakhita was 

often caring for and teaching them. Her 

life with Christ grew deeper daily, and 

she made swift progress in His love. 

Saint Ignatius of Loyola once 

said,“If God causes you to suffer much, 

it is a sign that He has great designs 

for you, and that He certainly intends 

to make you a saint.” The new suffering 

that would come very quickly 

into Bakhita’s new life would be that 

of detachment from those 

Sisters and the place to 

which she had become 

attached. One day in 

1902, Bakhita received 

word from 

her superior that 

she was to be 

transferred to 

another convent 

in Schio, 

sixty-two 

miles away. 

A Sister who 

was working 

with Bakhita 

at that time 

remembers, 

“Only those who 

know how much 

Mother Moretta 

loved Mother Fabretti 

whom she considered 

to be almost a mother to 

her, and how much she adored 

the cozy nest of the Catechumens’ Institute 

where she spent such heavenly 

days, only they can understand how she 

suffered at the painful news. Yet, she 

returned quietly to work, letting nothing 

of her inner sacrifice show.” 

Bakhita arrived at the convent in 

Schio. It was definitely a time for adjustment, 

as the Sisters, like many Italians, 

had never seen a girl from Africa 

before. Bakhita, rather than being of- 


fended, was highly amused at the initial 

fear of some of the Sisters. She would 

“break the ice” and ease this fright with 

her unique sense of humor and witty 

remarks. The Sisters soon came to love 

her sweet personality and appreciated 

her jokes and laughter. 

Cook and Sacristan 


Bakhita’s first assignment at the 

new convent was to help in the kitchen. 

This consisted of preparing meals 

for the Sisters and those in the infirmary. 

She always worked with great 

charity, especially toward those who 

needed special attention, even when 

under stress or time constraints. One 

Sister remembers, “We were amazed 

and moved by her ministrations, her 

punctuality and dexterity in preparing 

whatever was necessary, and her gift of 

anticipating people’s needs, something 

she did without any fuss.” 

Aside from cooking for the Sisters, 

Bakhita also made the meals for 

the orphans and students. The children 

at first were afraid of her, but when 

they saw her happy smile, they immediately 

were drawn by her goodness 

and simplicity. They loved to listen 

to the stories she had to tell, or to 

be consoled by her when they would 

cry. Sister Anna recounted, “When 

she would bring food to the nursery 

school, as soon as the children caught 

sight of her, they would cling to her 

habit and would not let go. There were 

five or six who absolutely refused to 

eat unless Mother Bakhita spoon-fed 

them. Oh, how they loved her!” Years 

later, one of the girls Bakhita took 

care of remembered that “her fare was 

so well arranged on the plates and so 

clean that even the most finicky eaters 

were won over. In our simple, littlegirl 

way, on feast days we would send 

our empty plates back to the kitchen 

with some little holy card for the Little 

Brown Mother as a sign of our affection 

and gratitude.” 

Bakhita served as head cook for 

a number of years, and whether it was 

over the fire or the oven, or amidst the 

pots and pans, “by the way she behaved, 

even in the kitchen, she seemed 

to be in church,” a fellow Sister said. 

In whatever job she found herself assigned, 

she would reply with, “Whatever 

Paron [Jesus, Master] wants.” 

In addition to her other duties, 

Bakhita was also assigned to be the 

sacristan. She loved being in the presence 

of Our Lord while cleaning and 

dusting the chapel or ironing the sacred 

linens. It was her special joy to 

make sure the chapel was well decorated 

and beautiful for Holy Mass. One 

of the boys who was an altar server 

at the time recalls, “I lived across the 

street from the convent, and Mother 

Bakhita, who was the sacristan, often 

asked me to help her on various liturgical 

occasions. I was always struck 

by the way she handled the religious 

articles with such care, a sign of her 

deep faith and reverence for sacred 

things. It seemed as though her hands 

skimmed ever so reverently over the 

white linens.” 

Convent Military Hospital 

During the years of 1915–1918 

Bakhita’s work changed from her 

normal routine of serving Sisters, 

students, and orphans, and working in 

the sacristy. The First World War was 

in full force, and the town of Schio 

was designated a base for military operations. 

In a rather unusual decision, 

part of the Sister’s convent was turned 

15

into a military hospital for wounded 

soldiers. Bakhita, aside from preparing 

food for the soldiers, would work 

alongside the nurses providing any 

care she could. Since it was uncommon 

in North Italy to see an African, 

Mother Genoveffa recalls, “It was 

not a rare sight to have officers and 

soldiers standing around the Little 

Brown Mother, all wanting to hear her 

story. Bakhita, equipped with Mother 

Superior’s permission, and with a simplicity 

that was all her own, narrated 

in her ungrammatical language the adventures 

and facts that she always attributed 

to the Good God, Who guided 

her with a special love to become His 

spouse. Who paid attention to her 

grammatical mistakes? Who laughed? 

Nobody. All of them were filled with 

admiration and compassion for that innocent 

one who had suffered so much 

and who appeared in their eyes to be 

an extraordinary being.” 

Bakhita’s service among the soldiers 

did not stop at just storytelling. 

She would tell them about God and 

the truths of the Faith in an effort to 

help them spiritually. However, she did 

not tolerate bad talk or foul language! 

“And the reprimands she would give if 

she heard someone cursing? It did not 

matter,” said Mother Genoveffa, “if it 

came out of the mouth of a simple foot 

soldier or an officer, she would give 

them a warning and then make a point 

of exhorting and enlightening them 

about eternal truths until the guilty 

party promised to make amends and 

wanted to regain God’s grace.” 

With the same care and attention 

of her other duties, Bakhita would visit 

and console the soldiers, or try to alleviate 

their pain any way that she could. 

Many of the soldiers remembered her 

kindnesses toward them and would 

keep in contact years after. 

Portress 

In 1922, after overcoming a bad 

case of pneumonia, during which she 

almost died, Bakhita was assigned to 

the less stressful and strenuous task of 

portress. Resigning herself to whatever 

Paron wanted, she put her whole heart 

and soul into her new position. It was 

her responsibility now to welcome 

people, representing the Community 

to all those who knocked at its door, 

answering with Christlike charity and 

generosity. 

Just like at the Institute however, 

it took a while for people to get used to 

her. Visitors, school children, and even 

delivery men would be surprised to find 

an African sister at the door, and at times 

would run away terrified or screaming in 

fright. After overcoming their initial fear, 

they soon found that their “Moretta” 

was one of the sweetest souls who had 

the kindest heart and the warmest smile. 

Bakhita was very careful and prudent in 

her job, and she always made sure that 

anyone who visited, even if just for a 

short time, left inspired and happy. She 

would give what advice she could, with 

no fear of giving charitable corrections 

to visitors, if necessary, especially with 

regard to modesty. 

In everything she did she was obedient 

to her superiors, kind to her fellow 

Sisters, and she was never resentful 

even when scolded or provoked. 

One might call it almost superhuman, 

or worthy of envy, the fact that she 

had very few visible faults, if any. Yet 

she had a human heart which felt the 

sting of a hurtful remark or a misunderstanding. 

Though docile and calm 

by nature, Bakhita was not immune to 


Bakhita (top right) with her community of Sisters at the convent in Schio. 

temptations and weaknesses. She had 

her share of spiritual crosses. 

On account of our fallen nature 

as sons and daughters of Adam, there 

is within us a natural tendency toward 

passion and concupiscence.“The saints 

all passed through many temptations 

and trials to profit by them,” states the 

Imitation of Christ, “while those who 

could not resist became reprobate and 

fell away. There is no state so holy, no 

place so secret that temptations and trials 

will not come.” 

One day she was asked by a Sister, 

“Mother Moretta, do you never feel 

passions?” “Well, yes, I do feel them. 

But when nature wants something, I 

tell it ‘Be good and for the moment 

be happy with what you’ve got…’ and 

then I just carry on. Gradually my desires 

subside, I unite myself to the Lord 

and Our Lady and I no longer listen to 

nature.” 

Yet another time the Sisters, driven 

by simple curiosity, would question her, 

“Don’t you feel anything? You never 


complain.” Bakhita would say, “I do, 

I do feel; I’m alive! It’s the dead who 

can’t feel, but I offer it all up to the 

Lord.” 

It was this prayerful reliance on 

God that helped her persevere throughout 

her religious life and live every day 

as if it were her last on earth. 

Tale of Wonder 

In 1927, Bakhita made her perpetual 

vows in Venice. Two years later, Father 

Francesco Colombo, director of the 

Canossian Magazine at the time, was 

making a retreat and happened to notice 

Bakhita at a distance. Surprised to see 

an African Sister, he inquired among the 

other Sisters what her story was. He was 

thoroughly intrigued and set on fire to 

spread her story for others to appreciate 

and show the glory of God. He asked, 

“Why not reveal a glimpse of this divine 

goodness? Why not give us, timid and 

weak followers of the Gospel as we are, 

an account which might spur us on to 

generous sacrifice, to a more fervent part 

17

Tale of Wonder was published in many languages 

and editions. This copy is from 1950. 

in the apostolate for our sanctification 

and for the spreading of the Kingdom 

of God: an account which sears the soul 

as the very facts speak so eloquently?” 

So began the idea for a book recounting 

Bakhita’s life story. The superior 

general consented to the suggestion, 

and Ida Zanolini, a lay Canossian and 

elementary school teacher, accepted the 

proposal. Ida began writing by gathering 

what information she could, but 

she soon realized that there just was not 

enough to put a book together. So, she 

asked for an interview with Bakhita. 

A person of deep humility, Bakhita 

did not like being in the spotlight, and 

if it were not for her superiors, she 

would not have told her story on her 

own accord. “Just order me,” was the 

phrase she used to show her obedience, 

although she knew the interview would 

bring back very painful memories. 

On November 1, 1930, Ida met 

Bakhita for the first time. The questioning 

began and as Ida relates, “I noticed 

the trouble she had in expressing herself. 

But more than that, I saw the cost to her 

of recounting the painfully tragic events 

of her life. Sometimes her voice was 

choked by grief, especially when she 

remembered her loved ones. Sometimes 

she would tremble as she recalled the 

horrors of slavery.” For three days the 

two discussed the events of Bakhita’s 

life, and even visited places, such as the 

Institute, where her life as a Catholic 

began. “I will never forget those hours 

of grief I underwent as I listened to what 

had happened to her…but my most vivid 

impression will always be that of being 

in the company of an exceptional soul, 

of a saint.” After this brief period of 

interview, Ida Zanolini began to piece 

together and publish her work in installments 

for the Canossian Magazine. By 

1931, she had published everything in a 

book titled Storia Meravigliosa [Tale of 

Wonder]. The book practically became 

a best-seller! People who read Bakhita’s 

story came from all over Italy to see her 

and talk with her. Once again Bakhita 

wanted to hide herself from any attention, 

but she received these visitors with 

humble Christian charity, prompted by 

her superiors to show the goodness of 

God. She would say jokingly, “Here I 

am; I’m a rare beast!…if they knew me 

well though, they would not take even a 

step to come and see me.” 

Bakhita understood this cross to be 

the will of God; she considered it to be 

her little mission at the convent. Little 

did she know that her little mission was 

to become much bigger, reaching far 

beyond the confines of her convent. 

Mission Years 

In 1933, Bakhita’s superiors, 

knowing that she had a strong, virtuous 


and truly humble character, did not hesitate 

to ask the greatest sacrifice of her. 

At the age of sixty-four, Bakhita was 

asked to promote the Canossian missions 

by traveling all over Italy to tell 

her story of grace to the other Canossian 

houses, parishes, churches, and 

audiences. Ida Zanolini recounts, “When 

they asked her if she was prepared to 

accept this job she gave her usual reply, 

‘Whatever Paron wants.’ This time her 

voice quivered and her cheeks were wet 

with tears, but she smiled.” 

Once the news of Bakhita’s involvement 

in the missions spread, people 

would flock to see and hear her, 

sometimes in the thousands. People 

from varied stations in life including 

priests and high ranking prelates, officials, 

teachers and students, families 

and children, all wanted to make some 

connection with so special a soul. 

Bakhita was always accompanied 

by another missionary Sister, Mother 

Leopolda Benetti, who had previously 

worked in the Chinese missions 

for thirty-five years. “My task was to 

help her when she could not express 

herself properly.” It was at the end of 

Mother Benetti’s talks on the missions 

that she would invite Bakhita to share 

some thoughts with the audiences. 

“She would thank everyone, greeting 

them cordially and assuring them of a 

permanent place in her prayers, adding 

that she looked forward to seeing them 

all again in Paradise.” 

Bakhita not only told her story, but 

would encourage people to pray for 

missions across the globe especially 

in Africa. “Oh, if only all the Africans 

could enjoy the graces that I have had! 

In Africa people suffer greatly and 

they do not know that there is a God 

who can compensate for it all! I, too, 


suffered greatly without thinking there 

could be a better life. How different 

things were when I was able to understand 

about the spiritual life!” 

Throughout her years on mission, 

Bakhita would greet everyone kindly 

with a smile, speaking with them, answering 

their questions, or signing their 

copy of Tale of Wonder. Her down-toearth, 

simple manner, sense of humor, 

and humble spirituality affected all. 

Even men with the hardest hearts would 

leave crying after speaking with her. 

She would end all her talks by encouraging 

her listeners to “Be good, love 

the Lord, pray for non-believers. Know 

what a great grace it is to know God!” 

19

Sharply contrasting the large portion 

of today’s society, which seeks to be 

in the spotlight, famous for some talent, 

discovery, amazing work or story, is the 

spirit of humility found in Bakhita’s life. 

In obedience she undertook the mission, 

but the burden which the overwhelming 

popularity caused her soul was hidden 

from the eyes of her audiences. Often 

between missions Bakhita would be in 

tears; some Sisters thought she was ill, 

but soon learned what a cross it was for 

her, and how hard a time she had trying 

to retain her spiritual life and converse 

with God. 

“Many people will think that I 

enjoyed going here and there,” Bakhita 

related, “but in fact it was a martyrdom 

for me. Wherever I went they loved me, 

but almost too much; but I feared for 

my spirit, because being in the midst of 

all those people was a distraction. If it 

were a saint that they could have seen, 

it would have been different. But me, a 

poor mite, what could I do?” 

Bakhita (center) visiting with students in Milan. 

Although she keenly felt the 

weight of her present assignment, she 

saw every situation with clarity and 

faith, and met it with cheerfulness. 

When people would remark at her 

saying, “Poor little thing, poor little 

thing,” Bakhita would counter it, “But 

I am not a poor little thing, because I 

belong to the Paron and I am in His 

house. Anyone who is not with the 

Lord, they are the poor ones.” It was 

to these people that she especially 

wanted to bring the Faith. 

Years after Mission 

Following her four years of missionary 

work, Bakhita resumed her 

previous task of portress, now at the 

Canossian Missionary Novitiate house 

at Vimercate, a city in northern Italy. 

In the quiet of the convent she lived as 

a model religious, carefully observing 

her vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. 

Her superiors and Sisters would 

often remark on her good example and 

charity, and other sisters 

would come to her for advice, 

some of which proved 

to be prophetic in a number 

of circumstances. This 

was especially true after 

her return to the Schio convent 

in 1939. During World 

War II, people would come 

to her asking her prayers 

for safety from attacks and 

air raids. More than once 

she assured them that their 

town would not be bombed, 

and it proved true. 

In 1943, Bakhita, and 

the whole town with her, 

had the joy of celebrating 

her Fiftieth Anniversary of 

Profession. A local news- 


One of the few photos taken specfically of Bakhita in 1933. 

paper which covered the event, reminded 

its readers of Bakhita’s hidden, 

but heroic, life, “What she teaches us 

is that the secret of happiness lies in 

duty quietly done, that peace is found 

in forgiveness, and that the only things 

worthy of our efforts are those that 

are just, great, and good.” Her life resembled 

that of Saint Therese in doing 

small things extraordinarily well. 

As she aged, Bakhita became 

increasingly weaker and more fragile. 

Soon she was unable to do much 

around the convent. She would say, 

“Now my mission is this: to help 

everyone by way of prayer.” She had 

great confidence in Jesus, Mary, the 


saints, and especially her Guardian 

Angel, who appeared to her once 

while she was sacristan, and whom 

she recognized as the one who had 

kept her safe from wild animals while 

escaping the slave traders. 

When she began to lose her eyesight, 

Bakhita had to depend more on 

other Sisters. Circulatory and respiratory 

problems caused her much pain, 

and she soon was confined to bed most 

of the time. When asked if she was 

suffering she replied, “Oh, not much! 

Pray that God will send me the grace to 

put up patiently with my suffering. You 

have to be crafty in this world and try 

to get as many graces as you can!” 

21

Saint Josephine Bakhita’s remains lay beneath the altar at the chapel of the convent at Schio. 

Whenever she was up, she had 

such a hard time walking that the Sisters 

would wheel her to the chapel 

where she would spend many hours 

praying, especially the Rosary. Though 

people already regarded her as a saint, 

she never presumed her own holiness. 

“It’s too easy just to put the dead in 

Paradise; I’m not so sure…Who knows 

where He [the Lord] will put me? Pray 

that He will show me His infinite mercy.” 

Into Eternity 

In December of 1946, Bakhita suffered 

a severe bout of pneumonia. This 

time the Sisters did not think she would 

live, but having received the Sacraments 

for the Dying, she suffered until 

February. 

Bakhita, ever aware of her approaching 

death, prepared herself to 

meet her Master. Sister Fabruzzo recalled, 

“She looked death in the face 

with a cheerful soul. At the very end she 

also said that death carries us to God. To 

those of us who said rather that God’s 

judgment is frightening, she replied, ‘Do 

now what you would wish to do at that 

moment: judgment is what we do now.’” 

Like Our Lord on the Cross, Bakhita, 

even as she was dying, practiced 

beautiful detachment. To the superior 

she said, “Mother, I have nothing except 

my books: the Rule, the choir manual 

and the life of Jesus. I do not use them 

because I can hardly see any more, and I 

have given up all my other little things. 

The only thing I have left is my Rosary 

and the Crucifix; if you want, Mother, 

you can strip me of these, too.” 

On the morning of February 8, 

1947 although she was in a great deal 


of pain and discomfort, Bakhita, alert 

to the end, joyfully received Holy 

Viaticum, the Last Sacraments and 

renewed her vows. Sister Antonietta 

stated that Bakhita had “a special devotion 

to the Immaculate Heart of 

Mary….when she was near death she 

told me, ‘I am fortunate, and the Lord 

loves me, for I entered the congregation 

on the feast of the Immaculate 

Conception, and it is only a few days 

now until the feast of our Lady’s apparition 

at Lourdes.” 

Another Sister who was present 

when she was dying relates, “She kept 

making ejaculatory prayer, made the 

brief renewal of her vows, and when 

I let her know it was Saturday, the 

day dedicated to Our Lady, Mother 

Giuseppina exclaimed joyfully, ‘Oh, 

how happy I am…Our Lady…Our 

Lady…!’ These were her last intelligible 

words.” 

After a life of service to God and 

others, filled with suffering and joy 

alike, Bakita on the evening of February 

8th, 1947, at the age of seventyeight, 

breathed her last and slipped 

quietly into eternity and the blessed 

vision of her Paron. 

Following her death there were 

many miracles and manifestations of 

graces received. People came from all 

over to venerate “their saint,” and to 

beg her intercession. When her cause 

was opened, many accounts came in 

from people who lived with her, knew 

or met her. On May 17,1992, Bakhita 

was beatified by Pope John Paul II. 

Only eight years later she was raised to 

the honor of the altars and canonized 

on October 1, 2000. Her feastday is 

celebrated on February 8. 

What mystery and wisdom there 

was in God’s plan of bringing a single 

soul from the darkness of slavery to 

shine as a light in a spiritually dark 

world. She was a soul who very well 

could have risen up in revolt, spending 

her life bemoaning her mistreatment, 

hating those who hurt her and inciting 

similar feelings in the hearts of others, 

but she did not. When asked what she 

would do if she ever met the slave 

traders again she replied with deep 

gratitude, “I’d kneel down and kiss 

their hands because if it was not for 

them I would not be a Christian now 

or a religious.” 

God became the true Master of her 

soul and in Him she found the greatest 

freedom. 

The story of Bakhita reveals how 

each soul is infinitely loved by God, 

and how even the smallest things, if 

done for Him, are of the greatest worth 

and how gratitude and selflessness lead 

to happiness beyond worldly pleasure. 

As in her lifetime, she still inspires 

souls to pray and work not only for the 

world’s freedom from physical slavery 

and violence, but from the slavery of 

sin and attachment to it. Her life continues 

to be a mission and a message of 

hope, not only to her beloved African 

people, but to anyone who seeks the 

freedom, peace, and forgiveness which 

only Christ can give and inspire. Saint 

Josephine Bakhita, pray for us! 


23


Joseph Clifford Fenton 

Prayer for 

OUR ENEMIES 

We cannot begin to understand the 

full meaning of Christian prayer, 

or Christian charity itself until we realize 

the Catholic teaching on prayer for 

our enemies. The charity which binds 

us to God is strong enough to impel us 

to love even our enemies in this world. 

The charity which impels us to love 

them with a love of benevolence commands 

that we exercise the activity of 

prayer in their favor. 

In the first place, in 

order to understand the 

meaning of this prayer 

for our enemies, we 

must realize the true 

meaning of the word 

enemy. Obviously, this 

term does not apply to some person 

whose temperament does not happen 

to harmonize with our own. Enmity is 

far more than mere temperamental incompatibility. 

The Latin word of which 

“enemy” is the translation allows us an 

objective realization of its meaning. 

The Latin word is inimicus, obviously 

the contrary for the word “friend,” amicus. 

Just as a friend is one who has a 

mutual love of benevolence for another, 

and whose love is such that he wills that 

other an important good, an enemy is 

Prayer must be 

offered even for 

our enemies. 

one who has a true hatred for another, 

and who wishes, efficaciously as he is 

able, to bring about evil in the life of the 

other. 

An enemy, then, is malicious and 

malevolent. The degree of his hostility 

is measured by the importance of the 

good of which he seeks to deprive us 

or the harm he seeks to inflict upon us. 

It is important to note that the Christian 

is not meant to be 

the enemy of any man 

in the world in the full 

sense of the term enemy. 

There is, the Christian 

knows well, one good 

which alone is important: 

eternal salvation. 

The Christian seeks to deprive no man 

of this good. He is permitted, and in 

some cases, he is obliged, to oppose the 

designs of his enemy. But he is not to be 

moved by hatred in his regard. He is not 

to hate him in return. 

It is possible to consider an enemy 

under two distinct headings. In the first 

place, we can treat of him precisely 

insofar as he is an enemy. To love him 

in this sense would be to will that he 

continue in his hostility and hatred. It 

would be so to act that this man would 


25

persevere in evil. This attitude toward 

an enemy would be a manifestation 

of hatred for him. As such, it is out of 

place in the Christian life. It is incompatible 

with Christian charity. 

Then it is possible to think of our 

enemy, and to act in his regard, insofar 

as he is a man. Considered as such, he 

We seek to aid our 

enemies to attain eternal 

salvation. 

has the same end as other men. He will 

find his ultimate beatitude only in the 

eternal possession of God in Heaven. 

The charity which is the motive force of 

the life of grace impels us to act toward 

our enemy in such a way that we can 

aid him to the accomplishment of that 

end. Charity is a love of God which 

involves the active and efficacious love 

of benevolence for all those whom 

God calls to live forever as his adopted 

children. As long as any man lives upon 

this earth, he is still in a condition to accept 

that call. God offers him the grace 

and the strength to be converted. We 

are expected to act in accordance with 

that grace, and that will which God has 

expressed in the words of the Apostle. 

The love of charity is such that it 

must necessarily extend itself to all living 

men. If any man is excluded, that 

is, if we really make an exception of 

any one person in the desire we have 

that all be saved, ours is not the love of 

charity. We love God with this love of 

friendship, and thereby we will the good 

which God desired to all for whom He 

desires it. Charity is in the will. It is not 

any mere act of sentiment or emotion. 

Then it necessarily involves an active 

and practical will that all be saved. 

This will necessitates the employment 

of that means which God has placed 

in our power for the procuring of those 

goods which we are to have through the 

activity of God, in other words, prayer. 

Our prayers, then will apply to all men, 

and no one can be excepted or excluded 

from these general prayers. 

Strictly speaking, as Saint Thomas 

notes, there is no direct obligation for 

loving our enemies with any special 

love. Consequently, since the economy 

of prayer is dependent upon that of 

charity, there is no special obligation 

of particular prayer for our enemies as 

there is in the case of those over whom 

we have charge, our parents, the members 

of our own families, and the heads 

of the Church and the nation. We are 

not constrained by the laws of charity 

to show special marks of affection to 

all men, but only those with whom we 

have most intimate contacts. And obviously, 

the fact that a person has singled 

Special prayer for our 

enemies is a mark of 

intense charity. 

himself out by his hostility to us is no 

reason why we should be compelled to 

show him any special marks of affection. 

Yet, if such special affection and 

special prayers are not requisite generally 

and in themselves, they may be 

necessary by reason of some special circumstance. 

And they are most certainly 

a sign of perfection in some person who 

performs them freely. It was an act of 



special perfection that prompted Saint 

John Gualbert to receive the murderers 

of his own brother into his own friendship. 

It was certainly an act of perfection 

that prompted Saint Stephen the 

Protomartyr to pray for his killers. That 

was the prayer which, in the designs of 

God’s providence, was the means of 

turning Saul the persecutor into Saint 

Paul, the Apostle of the Gentiles. 

This prayer for our enemies is 

not in any way opposed to our resisting 

their efforts, in due moderation of 

course. To balk the designs of an enemy 

is to prevent him, insofar as lies within 

our power at least, from going on with 

perfecting an act of sin. Resistance to 

an enemy, which is obligatory when the 

enemy attempts to destroy something 

which we are bound to protect, can and 

should be an act of charity. 

In resisting the attacks of an enemy, 

we can cause him a certain physical 

evil. In this sense only the physical evil 

27

can be, as we have seen, the object of 

prayer. In this case, we can and should 

pray for the defeat of an army that is 

waging an obviously unjust war. Here, 

as in every other case, prayer which involves 

a physical evil is bound by all the 

obligations and the conditions of charity. 

It must not be wished or desired out 

of hostility, since in that case it would 

constitute the person who wished it as 

an enemy. 

All of the intense practicality of 

charity is bound up in this teaching on 

prayer for our enemies. The Church 

does not tell us to pray for 

those who hate us because 

they are not responsible. 

She makes no effort to 

minimize or excuse the 

sin of hatred. The point of 

the matter is that she tells 

us and commands us to 

include even those who hate us in the 

object of our charity. Even those who 

seek our ruin and destruction must be 

the beneficiaries of our prayer. The 

prayer of the Church itself is expended 

for those who strive to encompass her 

destruction. Charity, precisely because 

it is so important, is intensely practical 

and realistic. To pray for one’s enemies 

does not involve any self-deception or 

hypnosis about the fact that they are our 

enemies. 

That same austerity of doctrine has 

an important bearing on the prayer and 

activity of the Church itself. She prays 

and works for all those who are outside 

her fold. She does not strive to make 

them think they are in good enough condition 

as they are. She is unwilling to 

lull others into a sense of false security. 

There is no evil which she abhors more 

strongly at the present time than the 

doctrine of indifferentism. The Church 

The Church 

prays for her 

enemies. 

knows that it is a sorry sort of charity 

which would lead a man to think that 

he was close enough to the Catholic 

Church, and that he did not need conversion. 

The good which we seek for 

ourselves and others, the good which 

the Church seeks in all her prayers even 

for her most outstanding enemies, is the 

gift of eternal life. The Church knows 

well that there is no salvation except 

through herself. 

It is tremendously important that 

we should realize the practical implications 

of this prayer. The good 

which we seek for others, 

and for ourselves, is 

eternal life. This eternal 

life is something which 

God concedes in a definite 

way. A man in the state of 

sin must do penance, and 

there is no other way in 

which he will receive the gift of God’s 

grace. That penance itself will be due 

to the help which God offers him, but 

it is nonetheless requisite. This gift of 

eternal life is something which God 

gives only to those who have had the 

life of grace in this world, and, as a 

result, our prayer for our enemies involves 

the will that these should really 

repent in order that they may receive 

that life of grace. It is something which 

demands the gift of faith in this world 

also, and prayer for others involves 

the desire and the efficacious practical 

will that the beneficiaries of our 

prayer should believe the message of 

God. It involves the sacraments and 

the Church. The prayer which we offer 

for the salvation of our enemies, and 

for the enemies of the Church itself, 

must involve our will that they may be 

converted and may live and die in this 

communion of the Church of God. 


Raphael V. O’Connell, SJ 

OUR 

Guardian 

ANGELS 

The angelic nature, being wholly 

spiritual, is far superior to ours. It 

is not, then, a matter of course that they 

should wait on us, but a dispensation 

of infinite love, the same love which 

prompted God’s own Son to come 

among us, “not to be ministered unto, 

but to minister.” For He has given His 

angels charge over thee, that they keep 

thee in all thy ways. In their hands 

they shall bear thee up, lest perhaps 

thou dash thy foot against a stone. (Ps. 

15:11–12) 

In the words of the Psalmist we 

find, not only a clear assertion of the 

fact that the guardianship of men has 

been entrusted to the holy angels, but 

the motive also for so loving a dispensation,—man’s 

frailty and the dangers 

to which he is exposed. These might, 

indeed, of themselves have moved the 

good angels to sympathize with us, 

especially when we bear in mind that 

the main source of danger to us is the 

warfare which the fallen angels cease 

not to wage against us. But, as a matter 


of fact, it is in fulfillment of a sacred 

trust confided to them by our common 

Creator, that our guardian angels surround 

us everywhere with their powerful 

protection. It is not of their own free 

choice, but as a solemn duty, that they 

are ever alert and active for our welfare. 

Thus, if we confine ourselves to 

the general statement that by the ineffable 

providence of God, the angels 

have been deputed to guard men on 

their pathway through life, it is, as Suarez 

says, a doctrine of faith, for it is 

expressly contained in Holy Scripture. 

If, going a step further, we assert that 

each individual of the human race has a 

guardian angel appointed to watch over 

him from birth, we are still enunciating 

a Catholic belief, not indeed contained 

in Holy Writ, nor defined by the Church 

as an article of faith, but so universally 

received and with such solid foundation 

in Holy Scripture, as interpreted by 

the Fathers, that it cannot without great 

rashness be called into question. 

Certainly our Divine Lord says, 

29

speaking of little children: See that you 

despise not one of these little ones, for 

I say to you that their angels in Heaven 

always see the face of My Father Who 

is in Heaven. (Matt. 17:10) Saint Jerome, 

commenting on these words, 

infers from them the great dignity of 

our souls, seeing that each has from 

birth an angel to watch over it. The holy 

Doctor argues to the same effect from 

the words of the disciples, when Peter 

stood at the gate and knocked, after his 

miraculous escape from prison. They 

could not credit the message of the 

portress, that it was Peter himself, and 

they said, It is his angel (Acts 12:15), 

showing thereby what was already the 

common persuasion of the faithful. 

Another passage of Holy Scripture, 

which the Fathers quote to prove that 

we each have our own guardian angel, 

is that wherein Jacob, in blessing the 

sons of Joseph, says, The angel that 

delivered me from all evils, bless these 

boys.(Ex. 48:16) In their comments 

on this text and on those previously 

quoted, Catholic interpreters are quite 

at one. The texts all alike imply the 

doctrine universally received in the 

Church, to the effect that not only are 

angels commissioned in a general way 

to guard mankind, but, as Saint Anselm 

says, “every soul, at the moment it is 

infused into the body, is entrusted to the 

keeping of an angel.” 

For God denies to no man sufficient 

help to save his soul, and in the 

actual order of Divine Providence, the 

guardianship of the holy angels is one 

of the elements which go to make up 

that sufficient help. For God permits 

men, good and bad, to be tempted by 

the demon, though of themselves they 

are unable to resist the tempter successfully. 

Hence, He also provides them 

with the assistance and protection of 

the holy angels, so as to supply for their 

insufficiency. 

Just as the angels guard those who 

have never had faith or sanctifying 

grace, so too, they continue their guardianship 

over those who have lost the 

Faith or have fallen away from grace. 

In fact, this is one of those special provisions 

of Divine Mercy, whereby God 

ever seeks the reconciliation of the sinner 

and urges him to turn from his evil 

ways. 

Then, too, even the just and the 

elect are exposed to the assaults and 

temptations of the evil one. Why should 

not the good angels solicit the sinner 

and by holy inspirations and illuminations 

seek to bring about his return to 

God, or at least prevent him from sinking 

to even lower depths of sin? Either 

result would be apt to contribute greatly 

to the welfare of the just, by removing 

from them to a greater or less degree 

the bad example of the wicked, which 

often has so baneful an influence on the 

lives of others. 

What Our Angels Do For Us 

The most obvious service which 

our angels render us is to guard us from 

harm. It is implied in the very name of 

the guardian angels, and they do indeed 

watch over us and keep us from a thousand 

perils of both body and soul, perils 

of which, oftentimes, we ourselves are 

unaware. This they affect either by 

removing the occasion of danger, or 

by prompting us to avoid it. They flash 

into our minds rays of heavenly light 

and stir our hearts with salutary emotions, 

setting before us in an attractive 

manner the good they would have us do 

or moving us to dread and shun the evil 

which they would have us flee. 


Again, our good angels hold the 

demons in check, not suffering them to 

tempt us as often or as violently as they 

fain would do…. 

Then too, especially, they offer our 

prayers and good works to God. When 

we say this we mean that they unite 

their prayers with ours, to give them 

greater efficacy. Indeed they cease not 

to entreat God in our behalf and 

this constant intercession for 

us is one of the chief benefits 

coming to us from the 

guardianship of the holy 

angels. But while all the 

angels pray for us, our 

guardian angel does so 

with special earnestness 

by reason of the ties 

that bind us to him more 

closely than to the rest of 

the blessed spirits. 

Sometimes, however, 

it is the duty of our guardian 

angels to chastise and punish us, 

when it is expedient for the welfare of 

our souls. Here we must distinguish 

such punishments as are penalties and 

nothing else, and those which have 

for their motive the amendment of the 

sinner, and are called medicinal. To 

these should be added yet another class 

of penalties if they may be called so, 

which imply no fault on the part of the 

person suffering them, but are merely 

trials sent for his greater spiritual profit. 

The first species of punishments 

proceed, not from the mercy, but from 

the outraged justice of God, and are intended 

to strike terror into the hearts of 

all who come to know of them. These 

are commonly inflicted by the evil 

spirits, whom God in such cases uses 

as His instrument. Yet at times we see 

even the good angels employed as the 


agents of God’s wrath. It was so in the 

case of Sodom and Gomorrah. The two 

holy angels who befriended Lot and 

brought him with his wife and daughters 

safely out of Sodom, then brought 

down fire and brimstone from Heaven 

to consume the wicked cities of the 

plain. 

It was a good angel who stretched 

forth his hand over Jerusalem 

to destroy it for David’s 

sin of enumerating 

his people, and only 

spared it because 

God was appeased 

by the repentance 

and entreaties of 

His servant. 

It would, 

however, seem more 

in keeping with the 

beneficent office of 

our guardian angels, 

that God should make use 

of them for the infliction of 

medicinal chastisements—that is, of 

those which have for their end the cure 

of our spiritual ailments—as well as of 

that other class of sufferings, which are 

meant to try the virtue of the servants of 

God, and afford to others an example of 

patience. 

Our Guardian Angels After 

Death 

The guardianship of our good 

angels, properly speaking, ends with 

death. For at death all dangers cease, 

nor is there further opportunity for 

spiritual progress. Yet our angel’s loving 

care surrounds us still. If we are so 

happy at that dread moment as to be 

found without spot or wrinkle, if we 

are free from every stain of guilt, and 

if our debt of punishment for sin has 

31

een fully paid, then our guardian angel 

will joyfully conduct us to our heavenly 

home. Such is the prayer of our fond 

mother, the Church, for each and every 

one of her children whom she is called 

upon to aid at the hour of the last supreme 

struggle. “Assist him, ye saints 

of God,” she prays, “come forth to meet 

him, ye angels of the Lord. Receive his 

soul, and present it in the sight of the 

Most High.” 

For our own good angel will be 

joined by troops of blessed spirits, who 

will rejoice at our happy lot, and will 

gladly applaud the fortunate issue of 

our warfare with the wicked angels. 

Hence once more, in the burial service, 

as the remains of the deceased are being 

borne to their last resting-place, 

Holy Church bids her ministers chant 

the touching antiphon: “May the angels 

escort thee to Paradise; at thy coming 

may the martyrs welcome thee, and 

conduct thee to the holy city Jerusalem. 

May a choir of angels receive thee, and 

with Lazarus, once poor, may thou have 

rest everlasting.” This is the Lazarus 

who once sat as a beggar at the rich 

man’s gate, all full of sores, without a 

crumb to eat, but of whom Our 

Lord himself assures us that, 

when he died, he was carried by 

angels into Abraham’s bosom. 

(Luke 16:22) 

We shall not then be forsaken 

by our good angel in death, and 

if, at that solemn hour, there are 

still certain remains of sin which 

must be cleansed away in the 

refining flames of Purgatory, 

some debt of punishment which 

we have yet to pay to the divine 

justice, our faithful guardian will 

conduct us to the place of expiation, 

and will often visit and 

console us in our prison-home, until at 

last our debt is fully cancelled, and our 

soul, resplendent with heavenly light 

and beauty, is ready to wing its flight 

upward to the place of everlasting bliss. 

How gladly will he then embrace us! 

How We Should Requite 

Their Love 

Our guardian angel is our best and 

oldest friend. He has been with us from 

our birth, and will abide with us until 

the end. In all the ups and downs of our 

life, he has never once departed from 

our side. Even our coldness towards 

him, our utter forgetfulness of him, our 

rank ingratitude, have not been able to 

drive him from us. Our sins themselves, 

however heinous, have not silenced 

his voice of admonition and warning. 

They have only served to move him to 

pray more urgently for us, to chide and 

rebuke us, and to endeavor to rouse 

within us sentiments of bitter remorse, 

in order to bring us back once more to 

the narrow path. 

We may choose for ourselves this 

one or that one among the saints, to be 

our specially beloved patron, but God 


himself has picked for us our guardian 

angel, and has given to him a very particular 

affection for us, and a very deep 

solicitude for our best welfare. Behold I 

will send my angel, who shall go before 

thee, and keep thee in thy journey, and 

bring thee into the place that I have 

prepared. Take notice of him, and hear 

his voice, and do not think him one to 

be contemned; for he will not forgive 

when you have sinned, and My name 

is in him. But if you will hear his voice, 

and do all that I speak, I will be an enemy 

to thy enemies, and will afflict them 

that afflict thee. (Ex 23:20–22) 

These words were spoken by the 

Lord to His chosen people when they 

were on their way to the Promised 

Land. But we know that everything that 

befell them was symbolical of God’s 

dealings with his Christian people, and 

the Church herself applies these words 

to our guardian angels. 

Here, then, we have clearly pointed 

out to us our duty towards our guardian 

angel. God wants us above all things 

to be docile to His voice, and not to 

imagine that we can disregard it with 

impunity. We owe him, doubtless, love 

and respect and gratitude, but we show 

these best by our fidelity in following 

at all times his guidance. His voice may 

be still and small to those who open 

wide their ears to the prompts of the 

passions, and of a worldly spirit, but 

by one who listens, it can be distinctly 

heard above all inward strife, and the 

din and tumult from without. 

Saint Bernard, commenting on the 

words of Psalm 90—He has given His 

angels charge over thee, that they keep 

thee in all thy ways—lays down three 

duties that we owe to our guardian 

angels. The first is reverence, which 

the mere presence of so exalted a being 


demands of us. If we had an abiding 

sentiment of reverence for him, we 

should never permit ourselves to do 

aught in his presence that we should 

fear to do before the eyes of a man 

whom we respected. 

The second duty is one of devotion, 

in return for all his affectionate 

love for us. We cannot doubt its depth 

and sincerity. It is enough for him that 

God has made us in His own image, 

that He has so loved us as to give His 

only-begotten Son for us, that He has 

confided us to the keeping of the angels, 

as younger brethren of and future 

coheirs with these holy spirits, in the 

heavenly kingdom. 

The third duty is that of unbounded 

confidence in his watchful guardianship 

and protection. No real harm can come 

to us if we trust in him. He is ever on 

the alert; the demons can never take 

him by surprise. He is endowed with 

heavenly wisdom and will surely direct 

us aright amid the deceits and snares of 

the evil one. He has undoubted might 

to repel even the fiercest assaults of 

our enemies, if we but recommend 

ourselves to him. We may go forward 

fearlessly under his protection, but we 

ought to strive to render ourselves deserving 

of it, by frequently appealing to 

him in our various needs. 

There is yet another duty which 

we owe to the guardian angels in general. 

It is one of reverence for those 

over whom they watch, how little 

soever and insignificant they may 

otherwise appear to be. Our Divine 

Lord makes the dignity which comes 

to the little ones from the tutelage of 

their guardian angels, a very pressing 

motive for respecting them and avoiding 

aught that might prove a scandal 

or a stumbling-block to them. 

33

But if regard for their blessed 

guardians forbids us to show contempt 

for the little ones, surely our interest 

in their spiritual and physical welfare, 

whether proceeding from general motives 

or from some particular relationship 

which binds us to them, may well 

prompt us to pray often for them to 

their guardian angels, and to recommend 

them earnestly to those powerful 

protectors whom God Himself has 

charged to watch over them, and to 

keep them in all their ways. Parents 

and teachers who adopted this practice, 

would doubtless quickly see the effect 

of their prayers in the greater docility 

of the children, and their more rapid 

progress in knowledge and in virtue. 

For ourselves, too, devotion to our 

guardian angels cannot fail to be the 

source of many heavenly favors, but it 

should especially insure to us the possession 

of three precious gifts which 

are strikingly characteristic of the holy 

angels. The first is that of walking constantly 

in the presence of God. Never 

for a moment are they distracted 

from it. They are not allured by the 

pleasures of the world, they are not 

disturbed by the din and tumult of 

human passions. Their gaze is ever 

riveted on the face of their Creator, 

and their mind is absorbed in the 

contemplation of His unspeakable 

beauty. 

The second treasure which this 

devotion should secure us, is a true 

spirit of obedience. The angels are 

ever ready at God’s beck, and the 

accomplishment of His will is their 

greatest joy. They will gladly ask for 

us a like devotedness, and the habitual 

proposing to ourselves of their 

example will be a powerful incentive 

to us to endeavor to imitate them. 

Lastly, the pearl of the virtues, holy 

purity, will be safe under their protection. 

It is called the angelic virtue, and 

the angels are eager to see us become 

by its practice most like unto themselves. 

The struggle is a hard one—in 

some cases it is fierce and unremitting—but 

by the grace of God and the 

assistance of our good angel, whom we 

should lovingly invoke while the combat 

lasts, the victory will be ours, and 

what a glorious victory it will be! To 

have overcome in our frail flesh and in 

spite of the treachery of the flesh which 

is arrayed with the demons against us, 

all the wiles and malice of our wicked 

foe, and to have kept intact amid 

the most violent assaults the priceless 

heritage which we carry in vessels of 

clay—that, to be sure, is a triumph to 

which we may holily and wholesomely 

aspire, and for which we shall remain 

forever indebted to the encouragement 

and support given to us in the conflict 

by our ever-loving, ever-faithful guardian 

angel. 


Fr. Vincent Ferrer Kienberger, OP 

Cheerfulness 

“Thou has compassed me with gladness.” (Psalm 29:12) 

Cheerfulness is a royal virtue. But 

it is more often found in cabins 

than in palaces. Cheerfulness is not 

necessarily founded on prosperity. It 

is too often the only gift which the 

blessed poor of God can share with 

one another. 

Just now there are sorely needed 

those happy faces whose cheerful expression 

is the symbol 

of a happy heart filled 

with God’s love. We are 

living in a sad age. This 

is not a truism. Much 

less is it fantasy. Only 

a handful of the faithful have accepted 

the Master’s dictum: It is a more 

blessed thing to give rather than to 

receive. (Acts 20: 35) Conscious of this 

axiom, those few have gone out into 

the world with a smile on lips :whose 

conversation is in Heaven. (Philip. 

3:20) As heralds of God have these 

bruiters of cheerfulness come and by 

example have they dispensed His sustaining 

message of help and comfort. 

Cheerfulness must be inspired by 

religion. Without a religious motive 

this virtue is inadequate to bring lasting 

good into the lives of individuals. In 

the dark night of paganism there were 

a few rifts in the cloud that enshrouded 

the world. With the coming of the Lord 

of Light a new era 

was established. The 

Son of Man frowned 

upon the professional 

melancholy of 

the Pharisee, and the 

drawn expression of the Sadducee. He 

commanded those who fasted to do so 

cheerfully: And when you fast be not 

as the hypocrites, sad. (Luke 6:16) He 

condemned the long face as the measurestick 

of piety. Amen, I say to you, they 

have received their reward.(Matt. 6:2) 

The holy patriarch Job has an inspired 

message which has helped man- 

Cheerfulness must 

be inspired by 

religion. 


35

kind for over three thousand years. It is 

like unto this: Behold, the short years 

pass away, and I am walking in a 

path by which I shall not return. (Job 

16:23). It is a summons to travelers 

on this journey of life to be Apostles 

of Cheerfulness. Short are the years 

of life and our duty is to fulfill to the 

utmost endeavor our high mission of 

carrying to the ends of the earth sweet 

cheerfulness, fresh from the well-spring 

of religion. Though we be commissioned 

to preach the gospel of cheer to a sad, distracted 

world, it is a terrifying 

thought to dwell on the 

number of defections 

from our ranks. 

But after all, we 

are creatures 

of nature, 

and it is only human to be moody and 

morose at times. Our remedy is a will 

power by which we can marshal the 

forces of cheerfulness against the baser 

emotions and thus conquer. Unless a 

man’s heart be a fountain of cheerfulness 

quickening his whole being, he 

cannot hope to make others feel what 

he himself does not experience. 

Of course cheerfulness does not 

preclude sorrow. The poet has said that 

into each heart some rain must fall. 

This is the law of life. Often the heart 

upon which the rain clouds of sorrow 

hang heaviest are the most cheerful. 

Sorrow chastens. Sadness comes as a 

consecrated and consecrating symbol 

of God’s love. In suffering the brave 

smile in spite of tears, for they recognize 

that God has placed upon them 

the sign of His predilection. Loss for 

these is gain. Out of death comes life, 

out of the darkness, day, out of sorrow, 

cheerfulness. 

In the life of Saint Madeleine Sophie 

we read that in her youth she 

was as bright as a sunbeam sprightly 

and full of fun. What a reservoir of 

cheerfulness upon which to draw when 

cares of later life parched her soul. How 

pleasant and encouraging to think that 

the Saints knew how to be merry! St. 

Francis of Assisi bade his friar companions 

remember that they were minstrels 

of God. Well did they renew the cheerfulness 

of the Master in a world that 

viewed it, not as prayer, but rather as 

hilarity. 

As we walk in the path on which 

we shall return no more, let us consecrate 

the remainder of life to God’s 

own cause of making the world better 

through cheerfulness. They have 

learned best how to dispense cheerful- 


ness who have studied longest in the 

school of the Crucified. The crucifixion 

of spirit makes for gentleness and cordiality. 

The martyrs died gladly. The 

King of Martyrs was the most cheerful, 

the kindest, the most compassionate. 

No disciple in the school of Christ will 

lack these very marks of royalty by 

which pauper and peasant rise to the 

level of princes 

and potentates. 

Blessed 

is the cheerful 

heart. The cheerful 

heart sees 

cheerful things. 

But let us not 

love in word, nor in tongue, but in 

deed and in truth (1 John 3:18). Performing 

cheerful deeds ourselves, 

we inspire others unto cheerfulness. 

Blessed, too, is the cheerful face. How 

often has a smile averted wrath. How 

often has this symbol of God’s cheer 

transmuted misfortune into blessing. 

Blessed is the merry heart, filled with 

wholesome humor. What a tonic to 

sad hearts is laughter. A philosopher 

Performing cheerful deeds 

ourselves, we inspire 

others unto cheerfulness. 

has remarked that laughter is God’s 

medicine. How skillfully it heals wounds 

of the soul. How rarely does depression 

fail to respond to the merriment of consecrated 

laughter. Thou hast turned for me 

my mourning into joy; Thou has cut my 

sackcloth and has compassed me with 

gladness. (Ps. 29:12) 

Thrice blest the singer who “makes 

melody in his heart” 

and dispenses it to 

mankind. May all 

worldlings caught 

in the withering influences 

of material 

gain and self-interest 

listen to the canticle 

of cheerfulness sung by the poets of 

God. May the world feel the almost 

sacramental influence of their smile and 

their laughter. The innocent merriment 

has made us forget the “burden of the 

day and the heat thereof.” In them the 

prophecy shall be fulfilled: “They shall 

come and shall give praise in Mount 

Sion and their souls shall be as a watered 

garden and they shall be hungry 

no more. (Jer. 31:12) 

“CHEERFULNESS strengthens the heart and 

makes us persevere in a good life... 

Therefore the servant of God 

ought always to be in good spirits.” 

- Saint Philip Neri 


37

Giles Staab OFM. Cap. 

Little Saints 

Saint Therese of Lisieux speaks in 

her autobiography of the big saints 

and little saints. The big saints like 

Paul and Simeon Stylites and Francis 

and Peter of Alcantara, show the driving 

power of the grace of God. The 

little saints are those whose sanctity 

manifests itself in the ordinary things 

of life. Blessed Theophane Venard, 

one of thousands of foreign missionaries, 

warmly attached to his family, 

and Saint Conrad of Parzham, the Capuchin 

lay brother who did nothing 

more startling than patiently answer 

the door of the same monastery 

for forty-one years, are what 

Saint Therese would call little 

saints. They manifest 

the heroism of human 

nature in the daily 

grind of life. 

Therese herself is a model of the 

little saints. As she lay in her last illness, 

she overheard two sisters in the 

kitchen below talking about her. “Poor 

Sister Therese will not live much longer,” 

one nun remarked; “and really 

sometimes I wonder what our Mother 

Prioress will find to say about her when 

she dies, because little Sister Therese, 

lovable as she is, has never done anything 

worth talking about.” 

The term little saints can be misleading. 

The essence of the spirituality 

of the little saints is perfection in little 

things; and it is as great to 

be absolutely perfect 

in the smallest details 

of life for thirty-six 

years as it is to live in 

torture on the top of 

a pillar [like Saint 


Simeon Stylites]. Saint Therese’s constant 

fighting against a natural dislike 

for another sister in the convent, her 

struggle to keep awake during meditation 

and even after Holy Communion, 

her unswerving fidelity to the letter and 

spirit of her convent rule reveal the 

greatness of being little. 

“In my Father’s house 

there are many mansions” 

was a pet 

saying the Little 

Flower. Most of 

Heaven is reserved 

for undramatic 

little saints 

who, as people 

would say, never 

did anything worth 

talking about. 

November 

opens with a procession 

of saints 

- apostles, prophets, 

martyrs, confessors, 

virgins. Whole books 

have been filled with 

the simple catalogue 

of their names, but by 

far the majority of the 

saints do not wear the 

halo of official canonization. 

God and His Church have 

singled out relatively few to stand as 

milestones along the narrow and rugged 

way. 

In a letter Saint Therese casually 

remarked that one of the novice sisters 

at Lisieux was a hundred times 

better than she; yet this evident 

saint has been absorbed into 

the nameless multitude 

of Heaven. 

If Heaven has countless 

unsung saints, so 

The essence of the 

spirituality of the little 

saints is perfection in 

little things. 

has earth. There is too much disheartening 

talk today of atheists and gangsters, 

or rakes and bawds, and not enough 

inspiration talk of the saints with whom 

they rub elbows. There are old men and 

women dreaming over their rosaries, 

and working lads and pretty girls planning 

their lives around Holy Mass 

and Communion - people in 

all stages of life going far 

beyond the mere prohibitions 

of the decalogue 

[Ten Commandments]. 

Not long ago an actress 

died, a star of 

stage and screen. The 

world knew the music 

of her laughter and 

the rhythm of her dance, 

but God and her mother 

knew the fervor of her 

daily Communion and 

the importance of her 

daily rosary. 

The heart of every 

man has the same 

longing for the things 

of God as the heart of 

every saint. The saints 

cast aside with an endless 

struggle all things 

that obscured the bright blue of the sky. 

The grace of God is not dead, but the 

Holy Spirit continues to breathe where 

He will. The fight for sanctity goes on 

and on, sometimes in the most unlikely 

places and professions. God in His 

providence made apostles 

of fishermen, and 

He can make saints of 

dancers and mechanics. 

Heaven will be full of 

surprises. 


39

Saint Alphonsus 

The Dolors 

of Mary 

As Jesus is called the King of sorrows 

and the King of martyrs, 

because He suffered in His life more 

than all other martyrs; so also is Mary 

with reason called the 

Queen of martyrs, 

having merited this 

title by suffering the 

most cruel martyrdom 

possible after that of 

her Son. Hence with 

reason was she called 

by Richard of St. Laurence, 

the “Martyr of 

martyrs”; and of her can the words of 

Isaias with all truth be said, He will 

crown thee with a crown of tribulation 

(Is. 22:16); that is to say, that that suffering 

itself, which exceeded the suffering 

of all the other martyrs united, 

Mary was a 

martyr not by the 

sword of the 

executioner, but 

by bitter sorrow 

of heart. 

was the crown by which she was shown 

to be the Queen of martyrs. 

That Mary was a true martyr cannot 

be doubted, as Denis the Carthusian, 

Pelbart, Catharinus, 

and others prove; for it 

is an undoubted opinion 

that suffering sufficient 

to cause death 

is martyrdom, even 

though death does not 

ensue from it. Saint 

John the Evangelist is 

revered as a martyr, 

though he did not die in the cauldron of 

boiling oil, but came out more vigorous 

than when he went in. Saint Thomas 

says, “that to have the glory of martyrdom, 

it is sufficient to exercise obedience 

in its highest degree, that is to 


e obedient unto death.” “Mary was 

a martyr,” says Saint Bernard, “not 

by the sword of the executioner, but 

by bitter sorrow of heart.” If her body 

was not wounded by the hand of the 

executioner, her blessed heart was 

transfixed by a sword of grief at the 

Passion of her Son, grief which was 

sufficient to cause her death not once 

but a thousand times. From this we 

shall see that Mary was 

not only a real martyr, 

but that her martyrdom 

surpassed all others, 

and her whole life may 

be said to have been a 

prolonged death. 

“The Passion of 

Jesus,” as Saint Bernard says, “began 

with His birth.” So also did Mary, in 

all things like unto her Son, endure 

her martyrdom throughout her life. 

Amongst other significations 

of the name of 

Mary, as Saint Albert the 

Great asserts, is that of 

“bitter sea.” Hence to her 

is applicable the text of 

Jeremias: Great as the 

sea is thy destruction. 

For as the sea is all bitter 

and salt, so was the life 

of Mary all bitterness at 

the sight of the Passion 

of the Redeemer, which 

was ever present to her 

mind. “There can be no 

doubt, that, enlightened 

by the Holy Ghost in a 

far higher degree than all 

the prophets, she, far better 

than they, understood 

the predictions recorded 

by them in the Sacred 

Scriptures concerning 

the Messias.” This is precisely what 

the angel revealed to Saint Bridget, and 

he also added, “that the Blessed Virgin, 

even before she became His Mother, 

knowing how much the Incarnate Word 

was to suffer for the salvation of men, 

and compassionating this innocent 

Saviour, Who was to be so cruelly put 

to death for crimes not His own, even 

then began her great martyrdom.” 

Her grief 

was immeasurably 

increased 

when she became 

the Mother of this 

Saviour; so that, 

at the sad sight 

of the many torments 

that were to be endured by her 

poor Son, she indeed suffered a long 

martyrdom, a martyrdom which lasted 

her whole life. This was signified with 

Her blessed heart 

was transfixed by a 

sword of grief at the 

Passion of her Son. 


41

great exactitude to Saint Bridget in a 

vision which she had in Rome, in the 

Church of Saint Mary Major, where 

the Blessed Virgin, with Saint Simeon, 

and an angel bearing a very long sword, 

reddened with blood appeared to her, 

denoting thereby the long and bitter 

grief which transpierced the 

heart of Mary during her 

whole life. Whence 

the above-named Rupert 

supposes Mary 

thus speaking: “Redeemed 

souls, and 

my beloved children, 

do not pity 

me only for the hour 

in which I beheld my 

dear Jesus expiring before 

my eyes; for the sword 

of sorrow predicted by Simeon 

pierced my soul during the whole of 

my life; when I was 

nursing my Son, 

when I was warming 

him in my arms, 

I already foresaw 

the bitter death that 

awaited Him. Consider 

then, what long 

and bitter sorrows I must have endured.” 

Wherefore Mary might well say, in 

the words of David, My life is wasted 

with grief, and my years in sighs. My 

sorrow is continually before me. “My 

whole life was spent in sorrow and 

tears; for my sorrow, which was compassion 

for my Son, never departed 

from before my eyes, as I always foresaw 

the sufferings and death which 

She indeed suffered 

a long martyrdom, 

a martyrdom which 

lasted her whole life. 

He was one day to endure.” The divine 

Mother herself revealed to Saint 

Bridget, that, “even after the death and 

ascension of her Son, whether she ate 

or worked, the remembrance of His 

Passion was ever deeply impressed on 

her mind, and fresh in her most tender 

heart.” Hence Tauler says, “that 

the most Blessed Virgin spent 

her whole life in continual 

sorrow;” for her heart 

was always occupied 

with sadness and with 

suffering. 

Therefore time, 

which usually mitigates 

the sorrows of 

the afflicted, did not relieve 

Mary; nay, even it 

increased her sorrows; for, 

as Jesus, on the one hand, advanced 

in age, and always appeared more and 

more beautiful and 

amiable; so also, on 

the other hand, the 

time of His death always 

drew nearer, 

and grief always 

increased in the 

heart of Mary, at the 

thought of having to lose Him on earth. 

So that, in the words addressed to Saint 

Bridget: “As the rose grows up amongst 

thorns, so the Mother of God advanced 

in years in the midst of suffering: and 

as the thorns increase with the growth 

of the rose, so also did the thorns of her 

sorrows increase in Mary, the chosen 

Rose of the Lord, as she advanced in 

age; and so much more deeply did they 

pierce her heart.” 

Mother of Sorrows, pray for us! 


Hope 

Abbé 

All our dogmas are closely connected 

with one another, and God 

is the beginning and end, the author 

and surety of them all. Saint Paul puts 

faith and hope together when he says, 

Faith is the substance of things to be 

hoped for. (Heb. 11:1) He means that 

just as no building can stand firm without 

a foundation, so it is impossible 

for us to have true hope of life eternal 

without faith. Faith and hope together 

give birth to charity. 

This fact alone should suffice not 

only to show the immense importance 

of hope, but also to convince us that 

the three theological virtues of faith, 

hope, and charity, are inseparable from 

one another, and indispensable to all 

who desire to please God and work out 

their own salvation. 

Hope stands between faith and 

charity, like the stalk connecting the 

root and the ripe ear of corn. It is at 

once the reward of the one, and the 

source of the other, or, rather, it is true 

to say that these three virtues are so interlaced 

that they borrow strength and 

life from one another. Without hope, 

faith would be useless, for in Christian 

hope faith reaches its full development, 

and together they become the firm 

foundation of charity; they are the 

root and sap of the love of God in 

our hearts, and the stronger they 

are, the more ardent is the love 

that they produce. 

Where there is no faith, 

DuHaut 

there can be no supernatural hope, and, 

as Saint Augustine says, if these two 

theological virtues are absent, it is quite 

useless to look for the third. How could 

we possibly hope in God if we had no 

faith in His existence? Or love Him, 

unless we knew Him to be supremely 

worthy of our love, and ready to reward 

those who honor Him? Faith and hope 

must lead on to love, and are absolutely 

necessary to it; we do not love what we 

cannot hope to obtain, since our natural 

pride makes us reject what is out of our 

reach. 

Without hope, faith 

would be useless, for in 

Christian hope faith reaches 

its full development. 

We love God because we hope in 

His goodness, and supernatural hope 

encourages the soul to regard its salvation 

as sure, for we are saved by hope. 

(Rom. 8:24) Saint Augustine says that 

hope is love expectant, and no better 

definition can be given of this virtue, 

which enables us to have a foretaste 

of Heaven here below if we trust in 

God’s promises. 

Hope, then, though inferior to 

charity, is superior to faith, being 

more than the germ or origin of 

future benefits, for it makes us, 


43

in a certain degree, members of Christ 

here on earth. Faith reveals God to 

us that we may turn to Him, but hope 

tends to unite us with Him, and charity 

actually effects this union, which is the 

supreme aim of all our Christian life. 

Without charity, faith and hope would 

be deprived of their perfection, and 

would remain incomplete and unsatisfied. 

Charity is their crown, the full 

realization of all the desires to which 

they give rise in our hearts. The heart of 

man can never find peace unless it rests 

in God, and it is equally true to say that 

the other virtues are aimless and restless 

until they are bound fast to charity. 

Every other virtue has to guard 

against excess; for instance, faith may 

degenerate into credulity, and hope into 

presumption, but charity need fear no 

exaggeration, but may ever increase, 

since the measure of our love of God is 

infinity, for He is infinite. 

He is eternal, and charity, too, 

never falls away, although the other 

virtues necessarily have an end. Faith, 

after guiding us through the darkness of 

this life, will no longer be needed when 

the last great day dawns in all its splendor. 

Hope, too, will pass away when 

we cross the threshold of our heavenly 

home. Both will vanish and give place 

to light that knows no shadow and happiness 

without alloy, but charity will remain 

forever, and will never fall away. 

Under the influence of their passions, 

men often deny everything, even 

the existence of God and the soul; but 

still it is impossible for them to stifle all 

idea of future and eternal happiness, 

since this belief is not so much an 

instinct as an indelible mark, set 

upon His creatures by the hand of 

God, the Ruler of Heaven, of 

earth, and of eternity. 

There is something within us that 

makes us turn to God, and aim at infinite 

happiness, and we cannot resist this tendency 

any more than the magnetic needle 

can help pointing to the North. God Himself 

planted this instinct in our hearts, 

and it is a sort of confused but assured 

remembrance of the state from which we 

have fallen and of that towards which we 

aim. Lacordaire, the famous Dominican 

preacher, was right when he said, “Men 

did not invent God and Heaven. If God 

did not exist, man would never have 

thought of Him, but when we aspire to 

Heaven, it is to our native land.” 

Our daily disappointments deaden 

many feelings within us, yet they are 

unable to destroy the idea of happiness 

long lost, but still to be regained, and 

this really is a proof of its existence, for 

we should never all agree in imagining 

a thing that does not and never will 

exist. All, without exception, ignorant 

and learned alike, share this feeling, 

and look forward to a state of happiness 

greater than that which they now enjoy. 

When iron is moved and powerfully 

attracted, we assume that a magnet 

is present, though we may not see it; 

and, in the same way, our unreasoning 

craving for future happiness proves its 

existence. Everything shows us that human 

happiness, being as it is short-lived, 

uncertain, and ready to vanish at any 

moment, however solid it may appear, 

cannot be the final end which God had 

in view at our creation. His greatness, as 

our own inner consciousness tells us, is 

incompatible with so poor and wretched 

and aim. A love that is all-powerful, 

as is His love for us, must needs 

have in store for us gifts far beyond 

those that this world can offer, and 

glory far exceeding the gloom 

that now surrounds us. 


Dear Friends, 

When it comes to the debated 

mystery of salvation, Saint Josephine 

Bakhita is a perfect example of how 

the mythical “invincibly” ignorant native is not outside the providence of God. He can use 

the most adverse circumstances to bring about good. With God all things are possible. 

In the opening of the Gospel of Saint John, the Evangelist tells us that God made all 

things, beginning with light. As the sun, moon, and stars give light to all, so too, does He 

“enlighten every man that comes into this world.” 

Saint Bakhita, born in a remote part of Africa, captured and sold into slavery at an 

early age, had never heard the Gospel. Rather, she was surrounded by the darkness of 

paganism and Islam. Nevertheless, she was enlightened by the wonders of God’s creation. 

“I knew nothing of idols,” she relates, “I just looked at the stars, so beautiful as they were, 

and the bright sun and I kept repeating: I love the Person who made all these wonderful 

things.” 

Furthermore, our saint obeyed the moral law of God which is written in the heart of 

every man and kept herself modest and pure. And in return, although she was severely 

mistreated by beatings and whippings, God, in His Divine Providence, never allowed her 

purity to be violated. 

Another article in this issue, explains how God gives everyone without exception a 

Guardian Angel at birth. These angels are not merely passive onlookers but they actually 

guard, guide, and inspire us with good thoughts. Bakhita, even while still a pagan, saw her 

Guardian Angel who saved her from death as she fled from her captors through the jungle. 

Certainly God, Who knows the number of hairs on our head, is not far from anyone 

and approaches ever closer to those who seek Him—the True Light. So it was with 

Bakhita. But there are those who, as Saint Augustine says, love the lusts of darkness 

which make them blind. 

Saint Bakhita was faithful to the actual graces given to her and God was merciful to 

her, as she never tired of relating in her Tale of Wonder. God showed His Mercy not by 

sending a missionary, to teach and baptize her, but in a very different way. He used her 

slavery as the means leading to salvation. The Faith was not brought to her in Africa but 

she was brought in servitude to the Faith in Catholic Italy. 

As a true saint, she not only forgave her former captors but believed them to be her 

true benefactors. If she were ever to meet them she said, “I would kneel down and kiss 

their hands because if it were not for them I would not be a Christian now or a religious.” 

Such is a real life story—rather than human speculation—of God’s providence, His 

loving mercy, and how he brings those of good will to peace and salvation. 

In the Immaculate Heart of Mary, 

Superior

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Saint Josephine Bakhita

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