On an evening in 1940, air raid sirens shrieked, warning of a possible attack. The house of the Society of Saint Paul in Rome quickly became dark. It was a blackout, meaning that the lights had been turned off so the house would not be a target for bombs. Men and boys felt their way down the staircase in the dark and gathered in the basement to wait for what might happen next. Many of them were afraid.
Father James followed them part of the way. Then he stopped at the top of the basement stairs. The priests and young people could see him outlined against a first-floor window. From time to time, he moved, and they saw that he was holding a rosary. During the whole air raid alert, he stayed there—sometimes standing still, sometimes pacing back and forth—praying.
The Founder was praying for all his spiritual children. Throughout his life, in times of greatest need, he had always turned to Mary. Now he did so again. Mary, Queen of the Apostles, he prayed, I beg you to ask God to protect all the Pauline priests, brothers, and sisters in Europe and Asia. Wherever the war is, I ask you to watch over your sons and daughters.
He had long wanted to build a church in honor of Mary. Now he promised Jesus and Mary that if all the Paulines came through the war safely, he would build Mary’s church in thanksgiving.
Some members of the Pauline Family suffered very much during the war. Many Paulines in Europe lived through air raids one night after another. A number of them had little to eat for months, even years. Some members of the Society of Saint Paul spent the war in a concentration camp in India. But not a single member of the Pauline Family was killed during the war.
In 1945, when the war was over, Father James began to plan the building of the church in honor of the Queen of the Apostles in Rome. He was also eager to send out priests, brothers, and sisters to nations all over the world. He wanted new houses of the Pauline Family everywhere, so that people everywhere in the world could know about Jesus. Later he would travel to visit his sons and daughters all over the world.
In June, 1946, Father James received an urgent phone call from Alba. Father Francis was very ill. The Founder hurried from Rome to the bedside of his friend. Father Francis’s face lit up when he came into the room. “I’m so glad you’ve come,” said Father Francis. “Please hear my confession.”
“I will, and then you hear mine.”
After each had received the Sacrament of Reconciliation, Father James said, “I owe you so much. Thank you for all you’ve done to help the foundation and growth of the Pauline Family.”
His friend smiled. “I’ve always been a Pauline at heart and never regretted it.”
A few days later, Father Francis passed away.
That same year, Father Timothy came back to Rome. He returned from Alba because the Founder needed his help. Father James asked him to obtain the Vatican’s approval for the Disciples of the Divine Master as a separate congregation. Father Timothy worked on the project together with a priest and a bishop from the Vatican. As the months went by, Father Timothy became weak and tired. A doctor tried to treat him, but nothing seemed to help.
On January 12, 1948, Pope Pius XII signed the document of approval for the Disciples of the Divine Master. That same day, after celebrating Mass, Father Timothy returned to his room in great pain. A new doctor was called in, who discovered something the previous doctor had not understood: The good priest had leukemia and was near death. Father Timothy lasted only twelve days after that diagnosis. At his bedside, saying good-bye, Father James told him, “You’ve always been my good and faithful son.” The Founder could hardly hold back his tears.
Father Francis had been like a father to the Founder, and Father Timothy had been like a son. Now, Father James had lost them both. Yet, he hadn’t lost his eagerness to carry out the mission God had given him. He prayed many hours each day and felt the Lord telling him to do more and more—not by himself, of course, but through the work of Paulines all over the world. The Society of Saint Paul began radio broadcasting, first in Italy, then in Japan. Other nations would follow. Later, the Daughters of Saint Paul, too, would reach out with radio. The Disciples of the Divine Master and the Pastoral Sisters were also working hard to make Christ better known.
Many people in Europe were discouraged after the destruction caused by five and a half years of war. “We can help them with films that show good values and give them hope,” the Founder said. The Daughters of Saint Paul began to collect uplifting movies and rent them out to parishes. Soon, the Society began producing its own movies again. The whole Pauline Family worked together to help people all over the world learn about Jesus, the Divine Master and Good Shepherd, the Way, the Truth, and the Life.
By now the Founder’s hair was no longer black but white. He looked even smaller and weaker than ever, and he wore thick glasses. But his eyes continued to shine. There was still something about him that made people listen to him and want to do what he asked. They could tell that he was doing what God wanted him to do.
One of the people he impressed was John Ferrero (Fay-RAY-roh), a businessman who lived in northern Italy. He had loaned the Founder some money and sent his partner to Rome to collect the repayment. The partner returned without the money.
“What happened?” asked Mr. Ferrero.
“He didn’t hand it over,” replied the partner. “He said he’ll come to see you soon.”
“You don’t know how to take care of these things,” said Mr. Ferrero.
Soon afterward, Father James went to visit Mr. Ferrero.
“How did it go?” the partner asked later. “Did he return the money?”
“No,” said Mr. Ferrero, turning red. “I gave him more.”
John Ferrero may have been one of the thousands of people who helped pay for the church of Mary, Queen of the Apostles, which now stands in Rome between the houses of the Society of Saint Paul and the Daughters of Saint Paul. The Founder had kept his wartime promise.