366. A conscientious objector (1887) Don Francesco Cottrino, a Salesian, had a brother named Luigi Bartolomeo, who in 1887 was called up for military service and feared he would be declared fit for duty. Having had the chance to speak with Don Bosco in San Benigno, Don Cottrino shared his brother’s concerns, hoping for some encouragement.
Don Bosco, aware of the con script’s situation, took Don Cott rino’s hands in his and gently rocked them as he said, “Don’t worry, Don Francesco; your brother will not go into the army.”
“But he has no physical defects that would exempt him.”
“He will not go!” “There are no family reasons either…” “He won’t go!” “He’s stronger than I am and has a good chest…” “He won’t go!”
When his turn came, the con scripted brother presented himself for examination. Despite Don Francesco’s confidence, he was declared unfit for service due to a lack of one centimetre in his chest measurement. The following year, he returned and was again declared unfit for service. It was anticipated that during the third examination, which would be the final one, he would again be rejected for his chest deficiency; however, surprisingly, he was declared fit and assigned to the third category.
Displeased with the outcome of this last examination, he hurried to Borgo San Martino to inform his brother about his disappointment.
“Well?” asked Don Francesco casually, confident in Don Bosco’s previous prediction. “How did the examination go?”
“Badly. I was declared fit for service in the first category and assigned to the third…”
“What!” interrupted Don Francesco. “Don Bosco assured me categorically that you would never have to serve in the army!”
“He’s not wrong. Listen care fully,” Luigi replied, smiling this time. “I am in the army, but I will not serve because I am in the first and third categories…”
“What are you talking about?” “I’m telling the truth. I am not lying for the sake of being witty or defending Don Bosco at all costs. The fact is that, since my name is Luigi Bartolomeo,”—and with that, he showed Don Francesco the document issued by the military district—”as Luigi Cottrino,” I am declared to be in the third category because Bartolomeo Cottrino, in the first category, was already in the army. They mistakenly created two individuals out of one.”
Don Bosco had foreseen the error that would occur at the district office and, enlightened by divine guidance, was able to console two good friends—one of whom was a priest—by antici pating the outcome of the final visit with an ending worthy of a detective novel. (from M.B., X, 1259).
367. The dog was not angry (1887) Between June and July 1887, a boy was bitten by a dog in Call iano Monferrato. His relatives, fearing the dog might be rabid, took him to his uncle in Turin for anti-rabies treatment. After examining the boy, the doctor decided that it was necessary to determine whether the dog was rabid, but it was no longer possible to track it down. The young boy was then taken to see Don Bosco. Upon hearing the situation, the saint instructed, “Begin a novena; in the meantime, let the boy go to confession and receive communion in the church of Mary Help of Christians. Do not take him back to the doctors; the dog will return.” Remarkably, at the very moment he spoke those words, the dog appeared, and it was discovered that it was not rabid. The doctor from Calliano was so astonished that he shared the event widely, and many years later, people in the village were still discussing it (M.B., XVIII, 363).
368. Ah! ah! ah! (1887) What happened to Don Tam ietti, the rector of the college in Este, was remarkable. At the end of the spiritual exercises in August 1887, just before leaving Don Bosco, he asked if there was anything he wanted to say. They were walking together in the corridor on the first floor of Valsalice, and Don Tamietti was supporting him. Don Bosco replied, “Yes, come to my room.” Once inside, Don Tamietti inqui red about what he wanted to dis cuss. Don Bosco hesitated for a moment, deep in thought, then exclaimed, “Ah!” His breathing became laboured, his face turned red, and he struggled to express him self, repeating “Ah! Ah! Ah!” several times with a sigh. Observing this, Don Tamietti reassured him, saying there was no need to worry and that he could share whatever was on his mind another time.
This conversation took place at four o’clock in the afternoon. Later, as they were parting in the same corridor, Don Tamietti said, “I am leaving tomorrow. If you have anything to tell me, I am at your service.” Don Bosco pulled him back into the room and sat down, appearing deeply saddened. He looked affectionately at Don Tamietti, wanting to speak but unable to do so. All he managed to say was, “Ah ah!... I can’t.” Don Tamietti responded, “Don’t trouble yourself, Don Bosco. You can speak to me another time or write to me. In the meantime, please bless me.” As he left, Don Tamietti felt very concerned. He sensed that Don Bosco had something important to communicate; he worried about whether it pertained to him perso nally or to the college, and if it was about the present or the future. When he learned that Don Bosco was unwell, Don Tamietti travel led to Turin for the Christmas holidays. Upon his arrival at Don Bosco’s bedside, Don Bosco greet ed him, saying, “Oh, dear Tamietti, thank you for coming to see me.” He took Don Tamietti’s hand and gazed at him intently for a long time without speaking, revealing a deep tenderness. Even then, Don Tamietti didn’t fully grasp the significance of the moment.
There was undoubtedly some thing mysterious about the unful filled desire to talk. The mystery of those silences is likely connected to a prediction and its eventual realization. One day, Don Bosco told Don Tamietti, “You will work until you are fifty, and you will live to be seventytwo.”
Born in 1848, Don Tamietti was struck down in 1898 by severe typhoid fever. Although he recovered, he suffered profound damage to his mental faculties. He lived in this incapacitated state, unable to work, until 1920. Everything unfolded exactly as Don Bosco had predicted (M.B., XVIII, 382).
369. You will see me, but I will not bless you. (1887) On 9 July 1938, Sister Celestina, the Superior General of the Eucharistic Sisters (Via Pirot, No. 179, Sofia, Bulgaria), wrote to Rector Major Don Ricaldone: “Our venerated mother foundress, Sister Maria Cristina di Gesù, born Eurosia Alloatti, daughter of the late Pietro Alloatti of Turin, sought guidance from St. John Bosco regarding her extraordinary vocation before coming to Thessaloniki in Turkey to establish our small institute for Slavic Bulgarians in 1888.
During the Salesian cooperators’ conference on 23 May 1887, she approached St. Bosco in the sacristy to kiss his hand amid the crowd. Before she could unveil her secret to him, the saint anticipated her and said: “Eurosia, you have asked the Blessed Virgin for a sign about your vocation; well, she is responding to you through me.You will come to me for further explanations.”
Without delay, she visited him. The saint reassured her that it was God’s will for her to go to Thess aloniki to assist her missionary brother, where they would found a community of native sisters for the Slavic Bulgarians. He also provided her with many other instructions. However, before dismissing her, he stated, “When you leave for your destination, you will come to see me again, but I will not be able to bless you.”
This prophecy came to pass. Our founding mother, who was set to leave on 3 February 1888, visited him on 1 February to seek his final blessing. Imagine her surprise when she found the saint dead, his body laid out in the church for the veneration of the faithful! At that moment, his prophetic words echoed in her mind: “You will see me, but I will not bless you. The venerable foundress intended to make a sworn statement about this historical fact for the cause of beatification” (M.B., XIX, 450).