That same afternoon James told his mother that he wanted to be a priest. She looked surprised and pleased. At supper, he was bursting to tell everyone else. His eyes were sparkling and he squirmed with excitement.
“James, what are you so excited about?” asked John.
“I decided today . . . I’m going to be a priest!” James exclaimed.
His brothers all started talking at once.
“A what?”
“How can you be a priest?”
“Why do you want to be a priest?”
James tried to explain to his brothers why he wanted to be a priest, but he couldn’t find the right words. The reason wasn’t clear to him yet. He simply knew that he had to be a priest.
Mamma Teresa kept quiet.
Papa Michael cleared his throat. “We’ve never had a priest in our family,” he said.
“Then I’ll be the first one!” replied James. Now he was even more excited.
But his father didn’t look happy, and everyone else became quiet.
James was surprised. Papa Michael was a good Catholic. He was strict, but he took good care of his children. He went to church every Sunday. James had thought Papa Michael would be happy if one of his sons became a priest.
Michael Alberione began eating again, and the older boys started talking about other things.
James looked at his mother. Couldn’t she say something? But Mamma Teresa only gave him a serious look and a slight shake of her head. That meant: This isn’t the time to talk about it.
That night, when James curled up on the straw in the hayloft near his brothers, he felt confused. He had this wonderful plan, but nobody seemed to care, except his mother. And even she didn’t want him to talk about it. As he lay there he wondered, Why would Papa not be happy? Is it because he hoped I would help on the farm? After he had stayed awake a long time worrying, he prayed silently to Mary. James always turned to the Blessed Mother in all his needs. She will help me, he thought. I know she will.
James had been going to school for three years. By now, he was old enough to sometimes go alone to pray at the shrine of Our Lady of the Flowers. The chapel was some distance from the farm, but he was used to walking.
One day he went into the shrine, knelt down, and told Mary he was worried about how he was doing in school. He promised her that if he were promoted to the next grade, he would light a candle at the shrine. After praying, he hurried home to help with the farm work.
A few days later, he came in happily as Mamma Teresa was preparing supper. “Mamma, I was promoted!” he announced. “And I was first in the class,” he added.
Mamma Teresa looked pleased. “Your good grades show that you worked hard,” she said. Then she continued preparing supper. James wanted to tell her about his promise to Mary, but he didn’t. The candle would cost money James didn’t have.
A few days later, he cleared his conscience and told her the rest of the story.
“Mamma, before I took my exams I was worried, so I went to pray at the shrine of Our Lady.”
His mother stopped working and looked at him. “You do that often,” she said. “So why are you telling me this now?”
Then she became very serious. “James, did you promise to light a candle?”
James blushed and nodded.
“And you waited all this time to tell me?”
James looked at the floor and squirmed.
“Be very slow to promise, my son,” said Mamma Teresa. “But once you’ve made a promise, be sure to keep your promise generously. Go, now, and don’t light just a little candle.”
She gave him a coin to cover the cost of a large candle. Joyfully James ran off to keep his promise.
By the time James turned ten, he had received the sacraments of Penance and Confirmation, which children received around the age of seven in those days. He had also made his First Communion, even though eight or nine was usually considered too early. Father John had believed James was ready. Lately, Father John had even given James some pamphlets about the missions. I think I’d like to be a missionary priest, James thought.
But would he become a priest at all? He was worried. His brothers had stopped going to school after third grade so they could help on the farm. James wanted to go much further. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to enter the seminary, where boys studied to become priests. In James’s time, boys could enter the seminary in sixth grade. They could begin to study subjects that would prepare them for the special studies men do in order to become priests.
I can’t talk to Papa about it, James thought. Every time I try, he pretends not to hear me.
Mamma Teresa wasn’t much help either. She just kept saying, “We’ll see.”
One day when his mother said, “We’ll see,” James blurted out, “Papa doesn’t understand!”
“Don’t talk like that,” Mamma Teresa answered. “Your father could just as rightly say, ‘James doesn’t understand.’”
What’s there to understand? James wondered. I’m supposed to become a priest.
Mamma Teresa went on to explain. “When we moved to this farm,” she said, “it was like a dream come true. Your father wants to save up so we can buy this farm. Your brothers have stopped attending school and are already helping with the farm work. When they’re older we won’t have to hire anyone else anymore. We can save up to buy the farm. But if the money we save has to be used to put you through the seminary, we can’t buy the farm. So you see what a problem we have.”
James stared at her. Was his dream going to die here and now? But then Mamma Teresa smiled and added, “I’ve always prayed that one of my sons would become a priest. If God has given you this vocation, we must pray and trust that the Lord will find a way for you to go to the seminary.”
James nodded. He understood now that his mother was trying to do what was best for the whole family. He tried to smile. “I guess you’re right,” he said.
But how could his dream come true?