“Magnificat” Talk by Susan Almonte: October 26, 2019
Hello, my name is Susan Almonte. I am so grateful to have been given this opportunity to reflect on God’s work in my life. I’m happy to share with you my ordinary – yet extraordinary – life experiences. I do this really to give glory to God and to proclaim His marvellous deeds.
I am the third of four children, and was often introduced as: “Qista è la terza” by my Italian/Friulani parents. I was an unexpected baby, my mom not quite ready to welcome her third child under the age of 5 when she herself was only 25 years old, especially because my dad took a while to get the hang of the responsibilities of “being a dad.” Apparently, I cried all the time when I was a baby ‒ and even as a young child my older sister and brother would often chant: “Sucky baby” because I was always whining about something.
I was terribly shy as a child (I know this sounds surprising to those who know me now). I always had the feeling that people were looking at me the wrong way, or were whispering bad things about me. I was extremely sensitive and self-conscious. At school, I only had a couple of friends that I clung to, and I convinced myself that the other kids didn’t like me.
Apart from going to mass on Sundays, my earliest recollection of faith formation was my dad coming to say prayers with me before bed. He always talked to me about God and about how much God loves me. Sometimes he would go on and on, but I would listen even though I really just wanted to sleep! My mom, who was the homemaker, enjoyed reading to help improve her English, but also to learn about ethical issues, getting the facts from various newspapers and magazines, including the Catholic Register and the Interim. As I got older, she was the one I turned to for explanations about things I didn’t understand, like in vitro fertilization or transcendental meditation.
During the months of May and October, we would pray the rosary as a family, but I would complain about how long this took. So, to come to a compromise with me, my parents agreed to pray only 7 Hail Marys instead of a full decade each time. It was still long for me, but more bearable.
Night-time was a very scary time for me, and I often had night terrors and night paralysis. Hovering between dreamland and consciousness, I would feel an evil presence in my room that would come upon me ‒ like the spirit of a wild beast that would climb up from the bottom of my bed and crawl on top of me. I was absolutely terrified. I would freeze up as if a force prevented me from moving, and when I tried to scream for help, I had no voice; I would keep trying to scream but nothing would come out. Finally, I would grab my rosary from my nightstand and ask Mary to chase the evil spirit away knowing that she was more powerful. Then eventually, I would awaken and, still very much shaken by the experience, I managed to gather enough courage to dash out of my room and jump in my big sister’s bed where I would sleep in her protection.
Why do I share this? Firstly, because I understood that the forces of evil are real. (After all, if Jesus cast out demons in His day, they must still exist in the world today.) Secondly, even though I did not really appreciate praying the Holy Rosary at that time in my life, the practice of this devotion fostered an awareness in me that Mary was a very powerful intercessor, especially against the forces of evil.
At the age of 11, a very significant event happened in my life. My brother was 13 and my sister was 16. I remember my mom sitting down with my brother, Andy, and me to tell us about a special gift. It was around the time of his birthday, so I assumed he was going to get a new bike or something. Instead, Mom told us that she was expecting a baby! You cannot imagine my joy; it was the best present I could have ever imagined. I remember so clearly the eager anticipation as the due date drew near, not that I understood anything about due dates. The baby was due on September 15th and so when I got home from school that day, I asked my mom why she wasn’t in the hospital delivering the baby! A week went by and still no baby! I was beginning to grow impatient.
Finally, on October 4th, my baby sister arrived! My grandmother, who had come from Italy to be present for this grand event, and I danced around the kitchen when we heard the news: “É arrivata Serena! É arrivata Serena!” I was so happy to have a baby sister that after school I would race home, strap her in her stroller and bring her back to school to show her off to my friends. If I had an iPhone back then, I would have filled it with videos and pictures of every smile, smirk or pouty face. I thanked God every day for giving me such a wonderful gift. In fact, not too long ago, I read that, “The best gift you can give your child is a sibling.” Was that ever true for me! Strangely enough, the unexpected blessing of a child in the family would happen again in my life: I’ll share that part of my story later.
For most of my life, I have been a parishioner at St. Benedict Church. Originally, my parents attended St. Philip Neri Church, because that parish offered an Italian mass, but when the Salesians were invited by the local bishop to come to St. Benedict’s parish in the 1980s, the new pastor, Father Nino Cavoto, offered an Italian mass there, and so my family began worshiping at St. Benedict’s. Father Nino has, over the years, moved to other parishes, however, he was ‒ and still is ‒ a very significant figure in my life. He used to visit the children at my elementary school for confessions. I was always very scared about going to confession. Like I said, I was a very sensitive girl and I always felt so badly about the sins I had committed, thinking I was the worst person in the world, and I would usually break down in tears during confession.
But it was a whole different story when I met Father Nino! With much hesitation, I said “yes” to the invitation to go to confession at school, and to my surprise, it was such a wonderful experience! Father Nino had such a gentle way with children, such loving attention, a kind smile, and words of encouragement. I walked away with great joy in my heart! I began to view the sacrament of confession as a dialogue with Jesus and a true cleansing of my soul. From then on, I would seek out Father Nino for confession, but then later realized that all the Salesian priests have a gift with young people, which stems from their founder, St. John Bosco himself.
How blessed I was (and still am) to have the Salesians in my life! Not only do I belong to a Salesian parish, but I am also a graduate of Don Bosco Secondary School. Imagine going to high school with such a strong Salesian presence that included Father Kelly, Father Dave and Brother Bernie as our chaplains, and a beautiful statue of what became my favourite saint, St. John Bosco, to greet me every day I came to school! I could go to confession whenever I wanted, especially at those times when I felt I really messed up; you know, teenage things. Even to this day, the significant Salesian dates of January 24th and January 31st will never pass without me thinking about St. Francis de Sales and St. John Bosco, so ingrained in my heart are these beloved saints thanks to the teachings and life of the Salesians.
Apart from meeting the Salesians, there was another Catholic movement that I encountered that greatly influenced me spiritually and that totally changed my perspective on life. In 1983, when I was 13 years old, a religious band by the name of Gen Rosso performed a few concerts in Toronto. I did not manage to attend, but my mom was very moved by the concert, and my brother was quite taken by the message shared.
Gen Rosso is an international musical group of consecrated lay men, members of the Work of Mary, better known as the Focolare Movement. The Focolare is a worldwide Catholic Ecclesial Movement, founded by Chiara Lubich in 1943 in Trent, Italy, which today numbers more than five million people of all ages, religions and backgrounds. Its spirituality is based on Jesus’ prayer for unity, “That they may all be one” (Jn 17:21).
So my brother, Andy, began attending Focolare meetings for the youth, and I started noticing some big changes in him. He stopped calling me “Sucky baby” and “stupid” all the time, and he stopped doing things that he knew annoyed me. The brother who used to hide down the corridor in the bathroom only to jump out and scare me to death when I walked by actually started being nice to me! For example, he wouldn’t hesitate to help me with my schoolwork when I needed it. And I noticed how he took more initiative after meals with the dishes and cleaning up. He was nicer and he even seemed happier.
I understood later that this was a result of his meeting the spirituality of the Focolare Movement. It was the great discovery that God is Love, and we are all brothers and sisters of the one Father. Chiara Lubich shared that unity can be achieved if we love our neighbours, everyone who passes by us, seeing everyone as a candidate for unity. So my brother was starting to love me through these little acts of love in the hopes of bringing about more unity and harmony in our family – and it really worked!
Through Andy’s new friends, I was invited to attend a summer Mariapolis when I was 14 years old. A Mariapolis, which stands for “City of Mary”, is a yearly “retreat” of the Focolare that happens in all parts of the world, gathering together people from all walks of life, families, children, professionals, non-professionals, religious, lay people, etc. where the “citizens” need only abide by one law – “Love”. The Mariapolis I went to took place in Pennsylvania, and a large group from the Toronto area travelled by bus. I was very nervous, especially since my parents were not able to come, and I knew that my brother would be in a different group than me.
However, I quickly learned that I had nothing to fear. It was a very beautiful experience. What struck me most was when complete strangers smiled and greeted me as we passed each other. Growing up in a big city, I had never experienced that before! Furthermore, the girls in my group became instant friends – I didn’t feel judged or looked down upon. During our various gatherings by age groups my group of young people was encouraged to do little acts of love, like helping a mother with small children in the cafeteria carry her tray of food, or helping after the meal to collect the dirty dishes. It felt really good to help others, and their expression of true gratitude was a bonus reward. Then, in our little groups, we had a chance to share how we put love into practice. This is what was hardest for shy little me; but I understood that sharing is also an act of love, because it can help others by giving them ideas of how to love, too!
Throughout my teen years, I continued to meet with the young people of the Focolare in Toronto every Friday night. I was very faithful to these weekly meetings, and even when my high school friends planned to go out dancing (which is all we loved to do), I would join them only on Saturday nights – so that I could commit Friday nights for my meetings. At these meetings, we would share about how we tried to put the Gospel into practice. Put the Gospel into practice? Sounds tough! But Chiara Lubich made it easier: she would choose one phrase from the Gospel each month, and she would write a commentary about it and give suggestions as to how to put it into practice – it was called “The Word of Life”. Even after Chiara’s passing in 2008, this Word of Life is still being written month after month and distributed worldwide, giving practical suggestions of how to live the Gospel!
Chiara Lubich, a consecrated lay woman who dedicated her life to living the Gospel, explained that living the Gospel can be boiled down to one thing: loving our neighbour. And she gave suggestions on how to love, by doing concrete “acts of love”. She described “the Art of Loving” with four simple suggestions: 1. Love everyone; 2. Be the first to love; 3. Love Jesus in your neighbour; 4. Make yourself one with others, sharing in their sorrows and joys.
For me this was a revolution! I could no longer see others as people who whispered bad things about me or who looked down upon me. Instead, I needed to see others as people to be loved! I couldn’t be shy anymore, and I understood that being shy is actually a form of selfishness – here is yet one more person looking at me – myself! I’m not saying that it was easy for me to overcome my discomfort of “coming out of my shell” – but when I tried, I saw some major changes. For example, as I walked through the halls of Don Bosco High School I began to look at the people I passed by smiling at them, or greeting them if I knew them. Amazingly, they always smiled back or greeted me back in a friendly way. At my part time job at Shoppers Drug Mart, I began greeting my customers with a friendly “hello” and “how are you?” and making small talk to make them feel welcomed and loved – rather than just cashing through their purchases without even looking them in the eye.
The particular charism of the Focolare Movement is “unity” and the ultimate goal of love of neighbour is to bring about a more united world. At my Friday meetings, we also tried to be conscious of the plight of people around the world, and we would organize fundraising events to help those who were victims of natural disasters, earthquakes or floods, or to help with any other need. We organized flea markets, garage sales, bake sales, walkathons and even performed concerts to raise money for various needs around the world. It was amazing to me that the monies we collected went directly to the Focolare Centre of the affected area and distributed straight to those in most need. The world became a bit smaller for me as I offered my time and talent to make my contribution. Looking back, these fundraising experiences would also prepare me for my future career!
Before graduating from high school, I had the opportunity to deepen my understanding of the Focolare spirituality and to experience a taste of what a united world would be like when I spent five months in Loppiano, Italy (near Florence), at one of the Focolare’s “permanent Mariapolis” I would say that this opportunity was a defining experience in “my conversion” story. Imagine living for a few months in a little town where the only law is “love”!
Until this time, I considered myself a good Christian; I went to mass every Sunday, went to confession at least in Advent and Lent, and I tried to love my neighbours – even though that wasn’t always easy – and to do some good around me. But when I got to Loppiano, I met young people of the Focolare from all parts of the world who took their commitment to the Movement very seriously. They came from all over: the USA, Luxembourg, Germany, Panama, the Philippines, Austria, Mexico and from all the different regions of Italy. Each person lived there for various periods of time, having come to grow in the spirituality of the Focolare and to live this experience of unity.
Each day we would gather for morning prayer and a spiritual reflection, and perhaps some sharing. Then we went to “work”. We each had tasks to do: some took care of preparing the meals for our group (we were about 25 girls) and some of us worked on site in a small factory. Every evening, we went to mass.
It was so interesting to experience the varied personalities of the girls there; when we had to leave for work, Karen from Germany would be pointing to her watch indicating that we needed to hurry, while Lieta from the Philippines, in her usual laid-back way, would walk calmly along the path with an attitude that suggested, “There is no need to rush”. But I saw that each one had made a deep choice to say “Yes” to Jesus and to do God’s will in all the little things that were asked of them.
For me, it was definitely not an easy time. I think I lacked the humility and maturity to truly receive the gift that Jesus wanted to give me; I would often speak my mind at times when it would have been better to keep my opinions to myself. I also didn’t realize how self-centred I was; for example, one afternoon, without thinking twice about it, I took the liberty to open a box of cookies to indulge a craving for a sweet. My housemate reminded me that since it was Lent, it was appropriate that we offer some sacrifices. I hadn’t even thought about it! God needed to do a lot of pruning, and at least in the first few months I felt like I was living in a dark cloud most of the time. At one point, the leader of the house, took me aside and told me: “Every word that comes out of your mouth destroys the presence of Jesus among us. If you want to simply be an “adherent” of the Movement, that’s fine – you can come and go as you please to various meetings – but if you want to live as a “Gen”, a term referring to the “the new generation”, you need to make a serious choice to choose and follow Jesus.”
I was hit hard by this; I was confused, and I didn’t understand anything at first. I broke down in tears. My Gen friend from Austria comforted me recommending that I ask Jesus to help me understand. What I really needed was to face the fact that I was a spoiled 19-year-old Canadian girl who, all her life, had all her needs taken care of by her parents. Although my working-class parents weren’t rich by any means, I never needed to worry about feeling hungry or worry that our house would cave in, like some of the other girls in my group. I thought I was a good Christian and that my involvement in the Focolare up until then was sufficient, but interiorly, I felt that Jesus was asking for something more.
Jesus wanted my whole heart; he wanted me to have total confidence in Him, confidence that He alone is all I need. It was a scary thing for me! I had so many doubts, and I even began questioning his very existence! (That was the Devil working on me…) But then I gathered my courage and I just said “Yes”, almost blindly; Yes, to whatever Jesus wanted of me. If God really existed and really loved me, He would take care of my every need. I trusted all of myself to him.
This next experience was a very powerful one for me, a direct result of me giving everything over to God. Before leaving for Italy, my dad had given me $600 as emergency money; spending money for something I might need, just in case. Truthfully, I had every intention of bringing it back to him believing that all my needs were well covered. However, as the experience went on, I became aware that there were some pressing needs at our house in Loppiano that required immediate financial support. And so, I decided, with my father’s consent, to give away the whole sum of money. Giving away the $600 that was given to me as a security fund was a decision that came from my heart. I wanted to give that money to Jesus who seemed to present these needs to me. In my desire to give Jesus all I had, I gave all the funds I had. It was like throwing away my security blanket. I was 19 years old, living in Italy, now, without a penny to my name. What I did have was my full trust in Jesus. I told Him: “Well, you’ve got to take care of me now!”
Since I was in Italy, I really wanted to visit my grandparents and other family members living in the north of Italy. I shared this desire with one of the first companions of Chiara Lubich. She told me that I should definitely go right away to visit them, but that I should be back by June since Chiara herself would be visiting Loppiano, and I wouldn’t want to miss that! So I was given enough money to buy a return train ticket to Friuli where I spent the whole month of May with my relatives. It was a perfect opportunity to live true “love of neighbour” as I had just committed myself to doing. I had a chance to spend quality time with each grandparent, each cousin, each aunt and uncle, and to get to know them in a new and beautiful way. I didn’t have my parents to lean on; I reached out to them on my own.
As you know, what often happens with family, some of my relatives gave me gifts of cash, which I spent on things I needed or on souvenirs for my family back home. My grandmother bought me a graduation dress, an event I looked forward to upon my return home. I kept the receipts for everything I spent. At the end of my trip, I took all those receipts and tallied up my spending. Believe it or not, they added up to $600. I looked at the figure on my calculator in shock. Jesus’ faithful presence was so real to me: Jesus gave back everything I had given Him…and more… since I had been gifted with things I didn’t spend my own money on. I truly did not want for anything! The concreteness of this event convinced me that Jesus is indeed REAL and that He will indeed take care of my every need.
In June of that year, I did meet Chiara Lubich when she came to Loppiano: that was a very powerful experience. Since meeting Chiara this intimately would be a once in a lifetime opportunity, I chose to miss my prom. There were no regrets. I managed to return to Canada in time for the commencement ceremonies and I have to say, it was a very strange experience because I felt like a completely different person and all my friends were unaware of the profound change that had taken place within me.
By the time I started university, I had a whole different outlook on the world, and university provided the right environment to meet people from all countries and faith backgrounds. I saw each person as a gift for me and I enjoyed getting to know them and especially learning more about their faith backgrounds. I built friendships with Muslims, Christians of other denominations and with people who had no faith at all. Each person was a person to love concretely, a candidate for unity.
Throughout this period, though, I wondered where God was leading me in life, and I asked Him to make clear what vocation he was calling me to. Sure, at university, I was studying to become an Intermediate/Senior French and Math teacher – which is a lofty vocation, but what about my “vocation in life”? Did God want me to get married, become a sister, or to live in the Focolare community as a consecrated layperson? I learned from Chiara Lubich not to worry about these questions; if we get used to doing the Will of God in little things, then it will be easier to do His Will in the big things, too.
But I did worry about it. I wanted to love God more than anything, and I seemed to think that the consecrated life was the most perfect way to love Him. After discerning with those responsible of the movement here in Toronto, I felt that God was calling me to live in the Focolare community, and I said “yes” to giving my life to God in this way, and I began preparing spiritually for this.
However, there were still some things that remained unsettled within me, and God provided yet another opportunity for me to grow. After graduation, I was selected for a year-long work exchange program in Bordeaux, France. (York University sends two graduates of their French Studies program to Bordeaux each year.) In France, I had to find my own place to live, prepare my own meals, get to work despite the many transit strikes and figure things out on my own. In the midst of all that, I managed to insert myself in the Focolare community of France, which was a mature community since it was the first place this new spirituality spread to outside of Italy. The closest Focolare centre to me was in Toulouse, so I went there regularly for meetings.
Shortly after my arrival in France, I learned that my uncle Osvaldo, who was very dear to my heart, was involved in a serious car accident. The vehicle he was driving was hit head on by a speeding car. He was severely injured, with collapsed lungs, and he was given a 1% chance to survive. I was devastated! Now, here I was in France, and so close to the special town of Lourdes. I thought, “If I could get some of that healing spring water, and pour it over my chest, then I can ask the Lord to heal my uncle by proxy!” So I called the Focolare of Toulouse and asked if there was someone in our community who lived in Lourdes, and, providentially, there was. The Maps family lived right in front of the shrine, on the other side of the river that flows beside it. From this family’s backyard, you can literally see the grotto where our Lady appeared! The mother, Bernadette, (no joking!) and her husband, and their many children, welcomed me into their home. I shared my story about my uncle, and Bernadette informed me that there are baths filled with the miraculous spring water in which people are immersed. Perfect! Aware of the urgency of my visit, she suggested that I go with Emilie, her 7 year-old daughter, who knew her way around and would help me get to the front of the line quickly.
I remember at one end of the bath, there was a small statue of our Lady; you usually go up to the statue to show reverence and then someone helps immerse you into the water and lifts you out of the water – it’s very quick. But as soon as I reached the statue, I started weeping uncontrollably. I didn’t know where the tears came from. In fact, the person helping me seemed a bit alarmed and asked if I was OK. I felt fine, I just could not stop crying. Poor Emilie must have wondered what was wrong with me. I composed myself and we walked home.
When I got back to Bordeaux, I learned that my uncle Osvaldo got better, defying the odds. He shared with his atheist doctor that he had a dream of a little Madonna far in the distance. (I interpreted this to be the statue at the end of the bath in Lourdes.) His doctor said, well you better go light a candle in the church and thank that Madonna! It truly was a miraculous healing, and I thanked Mary for answering my prayer!
As my confidence in Mary’s presence in my life grew by this experience, I entrusted the whole question of my vocation to her, she who was a virgin and a wife and a mother. One of the focolarine there in Toulouse was a very intuitive person; she sensed within me some anxiety over the question of my vocation, and she asked me to share what was going on. We had a beautiful heart-to-heart moment, that I was also able to share some very intimate issues that had been burdening me for quite some time, which I hadn’t ever shared with anybody. She thought I would benefit from some spiritual direction from a beautiful priest that she knew who lived in Paris. He was the uncle of one of the other focolarine.
So as soon as it was possible, I made an appointment, and travelled to Paris, in search of this holy priest. Arriving at the address, I came upon a locked, solid steel gate with a button to be “buzzed in” and I was greeted by a sign that said: Résidence salésienne de Paris. I couldn’t believe it. Here was Don Bosco by my side guiding me once again by sending me to one of his Salesian priests. And I had no idea how renowned this Salesian was: at a later time when I shared this experience with a beloved elderly Salesian in Toronto, Father Occhio, for those of you who knew him, he couldn’t believe that I had the privilege of receiving help from Father Xavier Thévenot.
Father Xavier suffered from Parkinson’s and although his arms were curled up and his body obviously affected by the disease, he managed to give of himself by counselling people and sharing his wealth of knowledge and understanding of the human condition. He was a very good listener, which put me at ease to express all that was in my heart. When we discussed vocations, he discerned that I needed a shift in my understanding of God: God was not the “nth plus one” person to love in life. It’s not that I love my mother, I love my father, I love my brother, I love my sister and I love God – as if He’s just another person to love. When I love my father, my mother, brother and sister, I am also loving God in each one. He is not an “extra”; He is within each of them. He helped me to understand that if I get married and love my husband and my children, I am also loving God. He also helped me to understand that consecrating my life to God would not mean that I would love God more.
After several visits, Father Xavier shared that it seemed that I had been trying to “squeeze” myself into this vocation of consecrated life for a while, and that anyone who truly wants to discern their vocation properly needs to be open to all vocations. So, as homework – and he always gave me a little something to work on after each visit ‒ he asked me to “be open to the call of marriage.”
And in my innocence, I asked him: “If I am called to marriage, how do I find the right guy?” He smiled and wisely added, “Well, you might meet someone while riding on the bus, or at work; what’s important is to find someone with whom you have enough in common so that you will get along, but who is different enough that things will stay interesting for the long run.”
As I left the priest Residence following that visit, I felt as if a tremendous load was lifted off my shoulders: I experienced a freedom I had not felt in a long time. And then a joy that I cannot describe filled my heart, because I contemplated being married and having children – and I loved children. I thought how beautiful it would be to bring children into this world, with whom I could share my love of God and guide toward Heaven where we would spend our eternity praising the Lord! This seemed incredible! With that, I offered a secret prayer to God that if He wanted me to get married, I asked him to help me find someone that I could help bring closer to Him.
I travelled back to Bordeaux. At this point, I was in my second year there, since I was able to extend my contract for another year. In my heart, I knew that my experience in France was still unfinished. In the meantime, York University sent two more graduates from the French Studies Department, one who came with her mom to help her get settled, and the other was Nino, who had deferred his acceptance into a French Masters program at U of T in order to live this experience in Bordeaux, France.
In friendship, I reached out to Nino understanding how tough it was travelling to a different country, to find a place to live and get settled. I also introduced Nino to my circle of friends, and invited him to join us on our various outings. He was a lot of fun and he always made me laugh. Nino, too, was of Italian origin and he grew up in Toronto. We had a lot in common: we loved the same kind of music, we loved travelling and getting to know new places and new people. I remember being struck by his generosity when we passed by a beggar, and he emptied the change in his pockets and gave it all to him.
He was also very open. He was curious as to why I went to mass every day. Although Nino received all the sacraments of initiation, Baptism, Confirmation and Eucharist, he was at a different point in his spiritual journey. One day Nino asked to come to Sunday mass with me, and he joined me every Sunday after that. And when I invited him to join me for Vespers at the Dominican parish, Nino accepted the invitation. The priests prayed so beautifully with all the different voices singing in harmony – so heavenly! Among the priests was a Canadian, Father Tierry, whom I got to know and would go to for the sacrament of reconciliation. In time, Nino also felt called to return to this sacrament.
As I “opened my heart to the possible call to marriage,” it became clearer to me that God put Nino in my life for a reason. We enjoyed being together, and our friendship grew deeper. We were both mature enough to know that we were not going to “date” for the sake of “dating” and hoped that our relationship would lead to something deeper. At a certain point, even though we were not engaged, we were invited by the Focolare to participate in an “engaged encounter” for the opportunity to discern if indeed God was calling us to marriage. This encounter gave a whole new dimension to our relationship where we profoundly experienced the love of God and were able to share what was in our souls with each other. Through that experience, each of us discerned that God was calling us to be married, and we asked Him to be part of our lives together and to guide us in this adventure.
When we got back to Toronto, Nino began his masters in French linguistics at U of T and I began searching for a teaching job. As you know, with teaching, hiring happens in waves: that year, there was a hiring lull. I managed to get on the supply list for the French-language schools, and I was not looking forward to being a supply teacher. During that time, I recalled a telephone conversation I had had two years earlier with the wife of my brother’s friend. Rebecca Pontisso had started her own independent Catholic school in Parkdale named Mary, Mother of God School and, at the time, was looking for teachers. Since I was going to France, I explained that I wasn’t available and that I would get in touch with her when I returned.
Given that I had not landed a full-time teaching job, I called up Rebecca and asked if she was hiring. To my disappointment, she explained that all her staff for the upcoming year was hired. In the same conversation, however, she thought she could use help with the teaching of French part-time. I remember meeting Rebecca at her home for the interview: it was one of the most beautiful interviews I had ever had. I discovered that a lot of thought and prayer went into the creation of this uniquely Catholic school. There was a clear educational mission: it was a place not only of academic growth, but of spiritual growth too; a place where the innocence of childhood is respected and guarded; a place where the faith is taught by example, where it is lived and loved. Class sizes were necessarily small, so that a teacher could get to know the gifts and needs of each child and tailor their teaching according to the students’ needs. And guess who the school takes its inspiration from for its educational mission? Saint John Bosco ‒ the teacher par excellence! His method of teaching with Reason, Religion and Kindness, and his preventive method of discipline, are foundational to Mary, Mother of God School. In fact, I learned that St. John Bosco is so important to the school that every year on his feast day, January 31st, academic classes are replaced with a day of celebration and fun – just as St. John Bosco would have wanted! I couldn’t believe it! I felt like I was made for this school! Our interview ended with us committing to pray to ask God if this was what He wanted for me and for the school.
Shortly thereafter, it was clear to both Rebecca and I that I should begin teaching there. Within the year, my part time teaching position grew to a full-time position. This was no ordinary job for me; it was (and still is) my vocation. I consider my teaching position at Mary, Mother of God School a call from God. I would often describe my experience at this uniquely special school as being in Heaven. The children sang like angels, they prayed so fervently, and they were so full of joy!
I remember being a little wary about the fact that the entire school prays the whole rosary every day. I, myself, wasn’t used to this. As I said before, I knew that Mary was a powerful intercessor, but the rosary always seemed like such a long prayer for me as a child and I couldn’t imagine children from grades 1-8 gathering to pray this long prayer every day. Rebecca, herself, told me that it wasn’t always this way; at the beginning when she started the school, they used to pray only one decade each day, and that it was the children themselves who begged her to pray the entire rosary with the five decades.
Over time, I began to see with my own eyes, as I prayed with the children of this school, the powerful effect of praying the rosary daily in a group. One time, a woman called and asked the children to pray for her as she was about to have an operation. A few weeks later, she sent ice cream for all the children, so convinced was she of the effectiveness of their prayers in the success of the surgery. Regularly, people call the school with their intentions; the teachers share their intentions, visitors ask for prayers. Recently, during a visit from Deacon Diego and a Salesian sister, Sr. Alphonsine, Deacon Diego began asking the children to pray for one person, and then another and another – and the list grew because he had a strong sense that the Lord would listen to the prayers of these beautiful children. And the children do not forget these intentions! How moving it is when children pray for the sick grandma of another child, because what is important to their friend is important to them, too! In their natural purity and generosity, they take to heart the needs of others.
As I worked at Mary, Mother of God School, Nino continued with graduate studies in French linguistics, and then proceeded to study at OISE at U of T, as he, too, felt called to teaching. At the same time, we began planning our wedding. Our wedding day was the most beautiful day of my life! Even Father Kelly noted how – not just the bride ‒ but the groom was radiant! And we had so much support from my school community that gifted us with a professional organist, singers and elaborate flower arrangements!
At the mass, I delighted in having some of my students join my young relatives in the procession each carrying a rose to the statue of our Lady. During our wedding mass, Nino and I consecrated ourselves to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, something I was inspired to do from my school which is consecrated to Mary’s Immaculate Heart.
It was important for both Nino and I to be open to receiving the children that God wanted for us, and so we trained in the Creighton model of natural family planning more currently called NaPro Technology. As a result of this training, I learned, with great sadness, that I might have difficulty conceiving because I was low in progesterone. This was evident in my charting. As I learned that I had low progesterone levels, I also learned that I was pregnant with my first child. The problem now that I had conceived with low progesterone levels was that I was at high risk of having a miscarriage. Thanks to a doctor who is specialized in NaPro Technology, I was prescribed natural progesterone injections to help sustain the growing baby in my womb.
Not only did I have a healthy pregnancy, I carried to term. In fact, my first baby, Gloria, arrived two weeks late. Her joyful birth occurred only three weeks after the sudden death of my mother-in-law. I don’t think Nino properly grieved the loss of his mother once this beautiful bundle of joy arrived. Gloria’s birth helped us to reflect on the power of life in face of the sadness of death. Iwas elated to have this beautiful baby and I treasured each moment with her. Even the nighttime nursing, my privileged time to be alone with Gloria, was my daily night prayer: feeding my baby and looking at her face, I felt so close to God. Not all my moments with a newborn baby were prayerful! Of course, motherhood is exhausting and as first-time parents, Nino and I were so inexperienced. However, desiring a sibling for Gloria while she was still young, and encouraged by her good nature, we planned our second child soon after, according to what we had learned in NaPro Technology. Two years later, we welcomed, Aurora and to this day, the girls remain the best of friends. Three years later, our planned third child was born: Augustin. This transition from two to three children was tough for us because, by now, the kids outnumbered the parents!
When Augustin was 9 months old, I learned that I was expecting my fourth child – this was a surprise. Neither my husband nor I felt ready to have yet another baby so soon after our third. When I think back, I can still remember the assembly line diaper changes and the gymnastics of getting an infant and a toddler bathed and in bed, while maintaining the nighttime routines already established with my daughters.
Keeping up with the daily rhythms of raising a young family wasn’t easy. On many occasions, I so wanted to do the things I used to do before I was married: participate in gatherings or retreats of the Focolare or the parish, activities that were so much a part of my single life. Now, as a married woman with young children, I was learning that my priorities needed to change. With many needs in our large family, I had to do my part. Recalling my formation in the Focolare, I drew strength in remembering that sometimes one needs to “lose God” for God. While a retreat would certainly have been a beautiful way to get closer to God, it was more likely that I would have an authentic encounter with God by staying home to take care of the needs of my young family. So, while I “lost” the opportunity to draw close to God in a retreat, the opportunity for me to discover God was in the mundane and ordinary things of life at home: changing diapers, doing laundry, peeling potatoes for our next meal, nighttime baths… Letting go of my wants helped me to rediscover how to live God’s will for me. In fact, my home was precisely the place where I could grow in holiness; it was the place where I could practise giving myself totally to Jesus: Jesus in my husband and Jesus in my children.
Embracing the countless opportunities to seek God in the daily events of life at home kept me focused on others and not on myself. My tendency to feel sorry for myself for not having time to do whatever I wanted shifted to a constant dialogue with God saying things like, “What do you want me to do today?” All that mattered most for me was to live in the will of God! And I found that having this attitude allowed me to be in deeper union with God each day, because I did my best to do His will and not my own.
Now, I’m not going to pretend that it was easy: many times I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole! In those times when it was most difficult for me to give up something that I would rather do, I tried to remember to love “Jesus Forsaken.” This is yet another treasure I learned from Chiara Lubich, in the Focolare Movement: if Jesus himself felt abandoned and forsaken by his own Father on the cross, out of love for me, then I must embrace every difficulty for love of Him who loves me so much. I got into the habit of lifting up quick prayers, especially when the laundry pile grew higher and time in the kitchen seemed endless: “For you, Jesus”, “You, Lord, are my only good”. I also offered many prayers of thanksgiving for the grace to survive yet another day.
And God continued to prove himself REAL through his providence. One quick example: I rarely bought clothes for my children because our budget did not allow for that. By God’s grace, I would often receive bags of clothes from people whose children outgrew them. My children always wore hand-me-downs. Actually, Aurora would rejoice when she received clothes that Gloria had outgrown, and she was always so excited to go through bags of donated clothing. And, one day, as my son Augustin was outgrowing his clothing, size 12 months, I said to myself: “I wish I had a couple pairs of pants, size 18 months for Augustin. That very day, Nino came home from school with a bag of clothes from his colleague. In the bag were three pairs of boys’ pants, size 18 months. For me, this was God’s way of revealing Himself to me yet again, of showing his love, and letting me know that He is taking care of our every need.
As my children reached school age, I wanted nothing more than for them to be educated at Mary, Mother of God School. I wanted them to be part of this beautiful community that I loved so much. I felt that this was the right place for them to learn the treasures of the Church in an environment that would respect their childhood.
It is important to mention here is that Mary, Mother of God School, as a private school, receives no funding from the government and no religious institution supports the school. Tuition is very low affording more families the possibility of enrolling their children in the school. Consequently, the administration and staff receive a very modest salary with no benefit or pension plan.
I must say, it is truly thanks to my husband, Nino, that I am able to work there. Financially, he has always been and continues to be the primary provider for our family. With our modest combined family income, we learned to budget very carefully. While Nino especially longed to have a family vacation, it seemed that a get-away was simply out of the question.
This weighted heavily on me as our financial situation was often a source of tension in our marriage. I worried about my husband’s needs and considered the financial advantage of earning a greater income by supply teaching in a regular school setting. At the same time, I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Mary, Mother of God School because I strongly felt that this is where God wanted me, both as a mother and as a teacher. After an argument with my husband about finances, I decided to give up everything – thinking that I needed to give up God for God again. And so, I told my husband that I would quit my job and apply to the school board so that I could earn more money. I also conceded to sending our kids to the Catholic elementary school just around the corner from our house. As much as my husband challenged me up to this time on both my employment and the children’s enrollment at Mary, Mother of God School, his response to my sincere offer, surprised me. After some reflection, he responded by saying, “No, I know you are happy where you are, and that is what matters most.” So I continued at the school and so did our children.
Grateful for my husband’s selfless response, I carried his concerns in my heart. So I turned to Mary in her Holy Rosary, the prayer I grew to love through the school; I began offering up a rosary for my husband every night. Knowing that I couldn’t fix our financial situation, I entrusted it to God through Our Lady.
Shortly, thereafter, I was inspired to ask a parishioner how he and his wife manage to get away every year for a vacation with their 9 children. He explained that a road trip to Myrtle Beach was indeed a long drive, but totally do-able as he proceeded to share helpful details, such as the specific town along the way that would be the appropriate destination to break for the night. Most importantly, he assured me that our Honda Odyssey would make it without a problem: I could trust him in that too because he’s a mechanic! It was thanks to his invaluable advice that we managed to drive south in three consecutive summers for a beautiful beach vacation without breaking the bank on flights!
God is so good: always providing for our every need, big and small! God also managed to draw out of me every possible gift, even those I never knew I possessed. At Mary, Mother of God School, I became Vice-Principal in order to be of greater service to the school. Assuming this administrative position, however, did not mean that I would be relocated to a place in the office. At this school, even the administrators teach. My new role as VP gave me more credibility as I began planning major fundraisers, such as our annual Gala dinner and silent auction, that help fund the school. I also wrote letters and emails to friends and acquaintances requesting donations. More than anything, as Vice-Principal I strongly feel that I am called to bring unity, that special charism of the Focolare so dear to my heart, to every situation, working hand-in-hand with the Principal and Director of the school. Through our love for one another, Jesus is present and He guides us in making important decisions.
About 10 years ago, the school expanded to include a high school – named after St. Francis de Sales, a saint so loved by St. John Bosco that he named his order after him! At our emerging secondary school, we began offering high school French courses, so I finally got to teach what I was trained to teach! But I was all alone in creating a French program, with very few resources. My husband greatly helped me, as he had been teaching high school French for many years. He shared resources that helped me develop a French exam, and various books and reading material appropriate for high school. My own former French teacher from Don Bosco Secondary generously shared her resources with me upon her retirement – the biggest gift ever! This high school project definitely took some pioneering: I was very excited to be part of it.
Everything in life seemed to be settling; my four children were all attending Mary, Mother of God School full time; my teaching and fundraising at the school kept my days joyfully full; our children were busy with many after-school activities, like hockey and swimming.
Then God decided to shake things up a little. This unexpected change in my life would embark me on one of the most spiritually intimate experiences ever, one of deep union with God: thanks to the gift of life. I visited the doctor because something seemed strange with my charting – I had been more or less charting my cycles throughout the years. My doctor suggested that we check for pregnancy and, sure enough, I was expecting baby #5. I was completely dumbfounded. Yet in my astonishment and surprise, I thought I would burst with joy. Believing that I would not have another child, I had recently given away every single baby thing I possessed: cribs, clothes, strollers, toys to new mothers in my circles or contact. I was 42 years old after all! I was so honoured that God chose me to be a mother again, and I trusted that He knew best what my family needed.
Upon hearing the news, our children had mixed reactions. But as my baby bump started growing and preparations for our new family member ramped up, eager anticipation set in: just as it did when I was 11 years old and I anxiously awaited my baby sister. And God, who can never be outdone in generosity, provided for everything: a crib, stroller, baby clothes – even a video monitor so that I could watch the baby as he slept! I clearly remember laundering the baby clothes that I had just received at a baby shower that my daughters and sisters hosted for me. As we folded all the cute little onesies, sleepers and tiny socks, all laundered in the delicious baby scent of Ivory Snow, we were all filled with awe and excitement. A parishioner summed it up perfectly: Sarà il giocatolo di tutti! This child will be everyone’s toy. And she was absolutely right. With all the iPod or iPhone videos taken of our baby, Xavier, there must be enough to produce several feature films.
At this time in my life, God, in His wisdom, presented his will for me; he plucked me out of the fundraising, the teaching, the pioneering of a high school French program – all beautiful things and certainly the work of God ‒ and invited me to step back to contemplate Him through this baby. As everyone else in the house was at school or work, I was home alone to care for this treasure. But unlike a new mother who questions if she’s “doing it right”, I had experience and so I did not worry. I knew what to do; this time, I needed to spend time with the Author of all good things, to thank and to praise Him. My maternity leave which lasted almost two years was spent praising God for His great Love manifested in this precious, unexpected child.
Xavier is now 6 years old, and when I look at his cute face and smile, I remember to say, “Thank you, Lord!” And he really is a special child: he is the one who will give me a big, loving hug and say, “Mommy, you’re the best ‒ no, the second-best mommy in the world – after Mary.” I don’t mind being second best to Our Lady! He is in Grade 1 this year and began praying the whole rosary with the rest of the school. I was a bit worried about him getting tired. But on the first day of school, I was so moved as I saw how he knelt throughout the whole prayer and had his eyes gazing at the statue of Our Lady! It was as if he was in dialogue with her!
We all know life is not a bed of roses. This is our human condition. I don’t have a perfect family and Mary, Mother of God School is not a perfect school. There are misunderstandings that take place, frustration when things don’t go as planned or when the financial pressure is great. When I sense that love is lacking, I have to admit that I usually feel like running away – because it hurts to acknowledge that we are all sinners, and therefore, imperfect. But I learned through the spirituality of the Focolare that Jesus Forsaken and Crucified is truly the key to unity. When I embrace the suffering and keep trying to love, regardless of the details of the situation, Jesus brings about the miracle of one heart and one mind.
As I look back on these various events of my life, I’m amazed at how God reveals Himself to me as REAL: a LOVING FATHER WHO LOOKS AFTER MY NEEDS, and how he shows me how best to love Him: by loving him in others beginning with those in my family, by letting go of my shyness and awkwardness, through concrete acts of love. Searching for and living in HIS WILL brings me joy and personal sanctification, no matter how tough it seems, and He gives the necessary grace to carry it out. And he gave me a beautiful Mother, Our Lady, to walk with me every step of the way.
Weeks ago, when I began preparing for this testimony, I opened up a small book in which I used to write spiritual thoughts or quotes that inspired me, back in my 20s. I was amazed when I found these words of Jesus:
“I have looked upon you with great love... I know what you are capable of; I know what you need. All you need to do is answer to my love.”
Truly, I can respond to Him with even greater confidence now: “Take my heart and form it; take my mind and transform it; take my will – conform it to yours, O Lord.”
Thank you for listening to my Magnificat testimony!
