When it comes to books on motherhood, I can’t seem to get enough! Maybe it’s because I am in a season with lots of littles, but I have been savoring all of the personal and professional development books on the topic. One of my most recent reads was Real Moms Of Real Saints by Colleen Pressprich, which includes a foreword by the mother of recently canonized Saint Carlo Acutis.
For anyone in need of an approachable read that welcomes you, sees you, and relates to you in your struggles, while gently offering guidance based on personal experience, this one is for you. Here is a glimpse into the stories of two mothers featured in the book.
Maria Rosa //
Maria Rosa lived in Portugal from 1869-1942 and was the mother of Venerable Lucia dos Santos, one of the shepherds who witnessed the apparitions in Fatima. Maria was known for her daily practice of the Catholic faith, especially through her hospitality and care for those in her community. In addition to being a wife and mother of seven children, she also served as a midwife and a catechist.
Maria was creative in the way she helped children understand the faith. When the weather was warm, she taught the catechism outdoors, and in the winter she gathered them around the fire to roast and eat chestnuts and acorns while they listened. It’s like a scene taken out of Nat King Cole’s The Christmas Song! Yet despite being a woman of great esteem, she took a very hidden role when the apparitions started to take place.
Peaceful Fields to Pilgrimage Site
As Pressprich writes, Maria “was a woman shattered by the Fatima apparitions, not uplifted by them” (p. 13). Pilgrims stole the peace and quiet of their village, trampling over their fields and making it impossible to plant and for sheep to graze. To make matters worse, Maria felt overlooked and used in order for pilgrims to speak to her daughter.
In an attempt to escape the crowds, Maria’s husband began spending much of his time at the village tavern, which strained his relationship with Maria. Meanwhile, Maria’s parish priest was telling her that Lucia’s apparitions were of the devil, which led Maria to believe her daughter was lying. As the apparitions gained more attention, the local bishop wanted Lucia to leave the village, which was for her safety. But it was also because the apparitions were under investigation and they did not want potential false stories to spread. Thus, Lucia was sent to an orphanage. And from the time Lucia was fourteen, her mother had to request permission to communicate with her, with in-person visits supervised and letters screened.
Sacrifice and Trust
The Fatima apparitions began in 1917, but Pope Pius XII did not approve them until 1940. Maria died in 1942. Pressprich writes that despite the stormy waves of uncertainty and radical changes in her family life, Maria never wavered in her trust of God. She “knew the truth and, what’s more, she lived it out, in her day-to-day life. She acknowledged the littleness of her boat and the vastness of the storms raging around her, but there is no evidence anywhere that it lessened her faith” (p. 20).
Maria Giuseppa Di Nunzio //
Maria Giuseppa Di Nunzio was born in 1859 in Pietrelcina, Italy. She married Orazio Forgione at twenty-two, and one of their sons, Francesco, would become Padre Pio. The Forgiones were referred to as the “God-is-Everything-Family.” Giuseppa was well-liked, beautiful, and whimsical, wearing bold colors of red and blue on her wedding day. She and Orazio valued and prioritized their community, living life with their neighbors, sharing their harvests, and giving to families in need.
When their son Francesco wanted to enter seminary, Orazio, with his wife’s blessing, emigrated to the United States to work in order to pay for Francesco’s education. Orazio and Giuseppa lived apart for over a decade. “Orazio would go back and forth to North America at least three separate times . . . Neither she nor her husband could read or write well, so correspondence was limited, and what little there was took a long time to arrive” (p. 45).
When Giuseppa saw Francesco off at the train station as he left for the novitiate, she surrendered him to Saint Francis, and while she let him go, she wept so much that she fainted. Then later, when she made the long journey to visit him, “Giuseppa eagerly greeted him” yet “he responded in a neutral tone, not making eye contact or showing warmth” (p. 48). She often experienced a coldness from her son when she visited him. Though we aren’t sure why he acted so distant from his mother, it’s possible he was trying to practice detachment.
Surrender
Pressprich also describes Giuseppa’s struggle with Francesco’s vocational calling. While she made every attempt to let go of control and entrust her son’s vocation to the Lord, she didn’t always feel successful. She preferred that he become a diocesan priest rather than enter a religious order. She was also concerned for his health, as he was known to take on intense penances. When she discovered him sleeping on the floor with a rock as a pillow, instead of the bed she had provided him, she spoke to her local priest about it, who then admonished Francesco for his disobedience.
Despite some tension in their relationship, Giuseppa remained a devoted mother who continued to seek her son’s wisdom. At the end of her life, when she was bedridden with pneumonia, Padre Pio sat with her and prayed with her until she died: “With her last breath, she raised the crucifix she had been holding to her lips and kissed it” (p. 53). She was a woman who truly surrendered her son to the Lord, and in the end, the Lord blessed her with her son’s presence at her death.
Raising Saints: All is Grace
My key takeaway from Pressprich’s book is that all is grace. Saints are not made by perfect mothers, nor by perfect parents. The moms in this book made mistakes, yet their prayers were persistent. God receives our offerings, both big and small, and He can create something beautiful from them in the lives of our children.
