I took the express train from the Roma Termini Station in Rome at ten in the morning and arrived at Turin’s Porta Nuova Station about five hours later. Without any tourist map and without anything to eat, I navigated the side streets on foot trying to find my hotel in Turin by locating a busy street named Corso Stati Uniti from memory. I finally found my accommodation after wandering for about 20 minutes but, more important, I also found a sandwich in my bag! I was being watched over! (The prosciutto sandwich was given to me my friend Margarita as 'baon' on my train ride from Rome to Turin, and I forgot all about it.😃)
(The highlighted portion with brighter colors is the Don Bosco compound in Turin with the Basilica of Mary Help of Christians and the school next to it. This area in Turin is called 'Don Bosco Valdocco'.)
The next morning, armed with a map from the hotel this time, I hopped into a city bus and got off at a bus stop that was about 800 meters from the destination of my dreams. And after walking for minutes, I arrived at Don Bosco Valdocco, the area in Turin where the Basilica of Mary Help of Christians, the church the Virgin herself asked Saint John Bosco to build in her honor, and the Don Bosco school that the saint himself put up are located. After saying a prayer of thanksgiving at the Basilica, I walked around the school and found myself near the Chapel of Saint Francis of Sales where I saw school kids and their teachers started to gather. Realizing that there would be a noontime mass at the chapel, I joined them inside and claimed a seat right behind the group of the young Bosconians. But before the mass, I approached one female teacher and quietly asked, “Señora, es la Misa en Italiano?” She answered, “¡Si!”
Of course, I knew the mass was going to be in Italian; I just had to make sure that there wasn’t really any divine intervention to make the school suddenly arrange for an English mass because of the presence of a visiting Bosconian from Asia whose Italian proficiency was limited to asking directions and ordering pizza. After the mass, I wandered further inside the school following the corner signs and found its cafeteria where, because it was noon, a lot of teachers and students were eating. For me, this wasn’t just a school cafeteria; it was an Italian restaurant! And after ordering (in my survival Italian) and paying for my pizza and pasta, I took a seat at an empty table, said a prayer, took a photo of my food, and wondered whether Saint John Bosco or Saint Dominic Savio had the same food choices more than a century ago when they dined at this cafeteria.
(The Don Bosco school's cafeteria in
Turin serves pasta and pizza!
I can eat here every day!)
was still full of students and teachers)
But
what initially seemed to be a solitary visit to the Don Bosco motherhouse became
a group tour as I met at the cafeteria Michele
(pronounced mee-ke-le), another visiting Bosconian from the eastern side of Italy. Just like me, Michele felt at home walking around
the school and having his lunch there. He even stayed at the dormitory run by
the congregation. And even though our respective Don Bosco schools were
continents apart, Michele, from Ravenna in the Emilia-Romagna Region in Italy, and I, from Victorias found on one of the Philippine islands, the brotherhood we shared as Bosconians turned us from
strangers and into good friends.
(Photographs of the cafeteria of during a special occasion. Notice the white table cloths with set cutlery and Italian wine.)
As
Michele had already visited Camarette di
Don Bosco, a museum that housed the saint’s personal belongings, including
his funeral carriage, I went alone. The museum is in an old building where the
saint lived until his death on January 31, 1888. And standing alone inside his
bedroom where he spent his last days, I meditated upon this saint’s life who
dreamt of spreading the teachings, based on the philosophy of Saint Francis of
Sales, to the shores beyond those of Italy. In that bare, small room with a
simple bed, I felt that this must have been the place where the saint received
most of the divine guidance for his work as well as dreams in his sleep that
were messages of encouragement and enlightenment from the Virgin herself. Right
next to his bedroom was a small altar where he also said mass. How blessed and
fortunate were his students who were able to hear those masses celebrated by a
saint!🙏
(Saint John Bosco's bedroom)
And
as I was meandering alone through the building - from his bedroom to his altar,
and through corners displaying his personal things in this place where this
saint prayed, lived and died, I wondered whether the eerie feeling I was
experiencing was normal, or was there some presence that accompanied me on this
quiet mid-afternoon as I traced this saint’s life through his old portraits and
history? Or perhaps, it was just overwhelming for one Bosconian who had spent
his formative years learning his teachings through books, prayers, sports and
the practice of Christian values, and who was now face to face with the saint’s
life.
(Don Bosco's portraits)
Other
than Don Bosco’s personal memorabilia, the museum displays photographs and
paintings of Saint Maria Mazarello, a nun who helped set up the female branch
of the Salesian family that nurtured, educated and guided young girls, and that
of Mama Margherita, Don Bosco’s mother who helped him give shelter to the poor
and abandoned boys of Turin. While I graduated from my Don Bosco school in
Victorias decades ago and haven’t seen these portraits in a long time, memories
of my school days, where no time was wasted and hands were never left idle
during their waking hours, returned. Even during lunchtime at school, there
was also some sports activities one can enjoy.
Giovanni
Melchiorre Bosco born on August 16, 1815, and died at 72 on January 31, 1888, the date that is now
celebrated as his feast day. He was canonized in 1934. And 131 years since his
death, his teachings, work, and devotion to Mary, the Help of Christians, are
still being continued by the Salesians of Don Bosco consisting of 14, 614
bishops, priests, brothers, novices, and seminarians in 133 countries and 1,915
Don Bosco houses.
Walking
with Michele around the walls of the Don Bosco motherhouse in Turin, Italy,
breathing the atmosphere of Salesian teachings and the spirit of Bosconian
brotherhood, I realized I might never know how many lives have been changed by the
saint’s work and teachings. After all, the Salesian family's motto is "Da mihi animas, caetera tolle" (Give me souls, take away the rest). But it doesn't really matter as I am grateful and blessed that one of those souls is mine. 🙏
"Qui con voi mi trovo bene;
è proprio la mia vita stare con voi"
"Here with you I am happy;
it is my life to be with you."
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