AS EXECUTIVE Director of the Messenger of Saint Anthony, I spend a great deal of time in my office next to the Basilica: 9 to 5, Monday to Friday. On Sundays, however, I spend part of the morning hearing confessions. I love this part of my ministry which consists in welcoming the penitent and acting as an instrument of God’s merciful love.
A few weeks ago, a young man walked into my confessional. After giving Marco absolution (this is the man’s name), he told me why he had come all the way from Florence to Padua with his wife Caterina and son Mike, a trip of about 200 kilometres. “You see, Father, my wife and I had tried unsuccessfully to have a child for many years. Finally, two years ago, we decided to come to Padua to seek St. Anthony’s intercession in this matter.” Marco told me that a few months after that Padua trip, his wife began to feel a new life burgeoning within her. Filled with expectation, they hurried to a doctor who, to their great joy, and he confirmed the pregnancy.
However, after the first happy months, Caterina began to feel uneasy. She was having the eerie sensation that the new life within her was beginning to fade. The small creature was no longer sending any signs of its existence – no more movements, none of those thrilling small kicks and thumps that made her heart beat with joy. The doctor kept her under close observation for a week, and then delivered his grim diagnosis: the fetus was probably dead because he could no longer hear its heartbeat with the stethoscope. A surgical operation might soon be necessary.
Needless to say, the couple walked away from the hospital utterly devastated. Caterina had lived this pregnancy as a gift from above, and now this same gift was being so unceremoniously taken away from her.
Still reeling from the shocking news, the couple caught the first train to Padua. Once inside the Basilica, Marco knelt in prayer in the central nave while Caterina steered left toward her dear Saint’s Tomb. Pressing her forehead against the green marble slab which separates the faithful from St. Anthony’s mortal remains, Caterina started to pray in desperation, tears running down her cheeks… As the tears touched the marble, however, the woman had a strange feeling, which gradually turned into utter disbelief. At first she felt a faint thump, and then a powerful movement within her. It was as though the child wanted to say to her, “Stop crying, mummy, I am alive and kicking!”
At this point in the story Marco could no longer hold back his tears, “My wife and I came here today because it is Mike’s first birthday, and we wish to thank our beloved Saint Anthony for his wonderful intercession with God. And do you know what I did, Father, just before I came to your confessional? I lifted little Mike up in the air and, facing the Saint’s Tomb, I said aloud so that everyone next to me could hear, ‘Sant’Antonio, ecco tuo figlio!’”(St. Anthony, here is your son!). At this point, dear readers, I have to confess that my eyes had also become rather watery.
The joy this couple was feeling is the same joy we should experience when, at Christmas Eve Mass, we hear the words “Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you!” (Lk. 2:11)
Christmas touches us so deeply and arouses such firm hope because it is the celebration of God coming among us. Isn’t it wonderful? He descends from heaven and comes into our homes to share his home with us.
Our homes are by no means perfect: we often hurt each other; we are afraid of returning love; we shirk responsibilities… and sometimes we empty even the most cherished religious rituals of their spiritual meaning. But he is always there for us. We believers know that he comes in order to open a way to heaven for us. He comes down to raise us up.
During this Advent season, dear readers, see if you can find a quiet moment. Stop and close your eyes and recall Jesus and how his birth shows us how much God loves us. You see, after all, Jesus Christ is God’s Christmas Gift to us and, as we know, God never gives us anything but the best.
May God bless you, your homes and all your loved ones.
Updated on October 06 2016