CHAPTER II

1886–1887

At S. Gennaro with an Aunt, Attending School & First Communion

ALTHOUGH HER Aunt Helen, by whom Gemma had been received, was good and pious, yet she could not be compared to her mother. This child who found pleasure only in practices of devotion soon became aware of the great void that was created around her, first by her separation from her mother, and then by her death.

“Then indeed,” she said to me, “I had to weep over the time when Mamma let me pray so much.” She wished to go to church early in the morning, but found no one at that hour to accompany her. She longed to remain alone in some solitary place to commune with God, and they would not leave her in peace even for a moment. Her extreme humility made her look on herself as a great sinner, and therefore in need of frequent confession; nor in this was she gratified, as all knew well what a paragon of innocence she was.

There was no one in the absence of her spiritual director to speak to her of Jesus; yet this was the only nourishment she relished. Owing to these and other privations the poor child had to undergo pains like those of death. But God soon came to shorten her martyrdom.

Gemma’s Aunt Helen Landi loved her angelic little niece most tenderly, because of her staid and ingenuous manner, her rare modesty, and her illuminated piety, so rare in a child of her age. She accordingly took steps to keep the precious child permanently with her. Gemma’s brother, Gino, at the same time felt her absence unbearable and implored of his father to bring her home. Signor Galgani too was more than anxious to have his beloved child with him. Hence in his desolation after his terrible bereavement, having thought seriously over what had to be done with regard to his children, who were scattered here and there, and having their religious instruction and education more at heart than anything else, he resolved to recall them all around him. That was about Christmas of the same year, 1886.

This affectionate father had not the heart to separate himself from Gemma, by placing her at a boarding school. He therefore determined to send her as a half-boarder to finish her education at the renowned Establishment in Lucca, managed by the Sisters of St Zita, and commonly known as the Guerra Institute, from the name of its Foundress. It was a happy thought of her father to confide his daughter to such excellent teachers, who, together with literature and the arts, impart abundant religious instruction to their pupils, and ground them in solid Christian piety.

The great joy felt by Gemma at this determination of her father is quite manifest from the following words to her director: “I began to go to the school of the Sisters; I was in Paradise!” And Gemma had good reason to say so. For having mistresses consecrated to God by profession, with many pious practices between the hours of study and work and recreation, she, who from her earliest years had been accustomed to live rather in Heaven than on earth, had certainly found her true center.

Very soon indeed her new teachers and companions were struck by her rare dispositions and drawn to admire and love her. She on her side strove no pass things off, in order to keep hidden from the gaze of others; but she did not succeed in preventing the candor of her soul from radiating through her whole person.

This was particularly visible in her eyes. Hence one of the Religious said to her on a particular occasion: “Gemma, Gemma, if I did not read you through your eyes I should not know you.”

Although she was in years among the youngest in her class, yet so great was the reverence with which she inspired the others, that all looked up to her as the first among them. We shall have more to say later on about Gemma’s School life; here we must speak particularly about her First Communion, which she expressed her desire to make at once on going to the Sisters’ School. That great act was to be the crowning one of Gemma’s life.

Long before this time the innocent child, pierced through the heart by the arrow of Divine Love, was being consumed by her longing to be united with Jesus in the Adorable Sacrament of the Altar. Her mother, a saint indeed, had instilled into her a knowledge and foretaste of its sweetness; and, in order to excite within her more and more a craving for the Bread of Life, she very often took her before the Tabernacle, whence Our Savior continually sends his Divine Rays into the hearts that long for Him and, more particularly, into guileless souls.

Gemma was then nine years old, and already at that early age her heart panted for Jesus. She longed to have Him, and repeatedly with tears besought her Confessor, her father, and her school teachers to give Him to her. The prevailing custom, however, was against her; the more so, because she looked much younger than I she really was—owing to her small and delicate frame—so that at nine years of age, she appeared to be scarcely six. But she repeated her entreaties: “Give me Jesus,” she would say, “and you will see how good I shall be; I shall be quite changed; I won’t commit any more sin. Give Him to me, I so long for Him, and I cannot rivet without Him.”

Her confessor, the Rev. John Volpi, later on Bishop of Arezzo, gave way at last to her repeated entreaties, so unusual in a child of her age. He assured her father of her great worthiness, and said: “If we do not want our Gemma to die of longing, we must allow her to go to Communion.”

Let those describe who can, the joy of this angelic child at the granting of her desire. After having, with overflowing heart, thanked Our Lord and His Blessed Mother for the favor she directed her thoughts to the perfect performance of the great act and at once determined to make her preparation in the Convent, where, after a course of spiritual exercises in quiet and solitude, she would be better able to attend to the great object in view.

Her father, however, was much opposed to this plan, as he did not wish to be separated from his beloved child even for a day. But she so wept and implored that, at last, he yielded to her wishes. The reader will be glad if I give Gemma’s own words of what happened: “He gave me his consent in the evening,” she said, “and early next morning I went to the Convent, and remained there ten days. During that time I saw none of our family. But, oh, how happy I was! What a paradise! Immediately on entering the Convent enclosure, I ran to the chapel to thank Jesus, and with all the earnestness I could command, implored of Him to prepare me well for my Holy Communion. Then I felt, rising in my heart, an ardent desire to know in detail all the life and sufferings of Jesus.”

We have seen already how her pious mother initiated Gemma from her earliest years in meditation on the Passion, and the Religious in the school taught her to continue it. But who had told this child how our Savior’s Passion allies itself so intimately with the mystery of the Blessed Eucharist, that the way to realize and possess the one is by means of the other? Without doubt that same Holy Spirit Who, even in her tender years, had so divinely enlightened and inflamed her soul, was again her Teacher.

“I made known,” she continues, “My ardent desire to know about Jesus to my mistress, and she began to explain it to me, day by day, choosing for this purpose an hour when the other children were in bed. One evening, when she was telling me something of the Crucifixion, Crowning with Thorns, and all the sufferings of Jesus, her explanation was so true to life, and caused me such pain of heart, that I had to remain in bed all the following day. The mistress, in consequence, stopped her instructions, but I continued to attend the sermons.

“Every day that good preacher used to say: ‘Whoever feeds on Jesus shall live of His Life.’ These words filled me with the greatest consolation, and I went on reasoning thus to myself: ‘When Jesus, then, comes to me I shall no longer live in myself because He will live in me.’ And I almost died with longing to be able to say those words: ‘Jesus lives in me.’ Sometimes I passed the whole night meditating on them, all inflamed with desire. I prepared for my general Confession, and made it at three intervals to the Rev. Dom Volpi, and finished it on the Saturday, vigil of the happy day!”

That was the 19th of June, 1887, to which day the solemnity of the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus had been transferred from the previous Friday. On the same Saturday Gemma wrote to her father, and, drawing her ideas from the depth of a heart overflowing with holy affections, she composed the following short letter—short, indeed, because one who feels deeply can say but little:

“DEAR PAPA—Today is the vigil of the day of my First Communion; a day for me of infinite contentment. I write these lines only to assure you of my love, and to move you to pray to Jesus, in order that the first time He comes to dwell in me, He may find me disposed to receive all the graces He has prepared for me. I beg your pardon for all my disobedience and all the pain I have ever given you, and I beg of you this evening to forget them all. I ask you to bless me. Your most loving daughter, GEMMA.”

At length the day so longed for dawned. She wrote as follows to her spiritual director: “The Sunday came at last; I rose quickly; I ran to Jesus for the first time . . . My longings were finally gratified. I then understood the promise of Jesus: ‘He that eateth Me, the same also shall live by Me.’ My father, it is impossible to explain what then passed between Jesus and me. He made Himself felt, oh so strongly, in my soul. I then understood how the delights of Heaven are not like those of the earth. I felt seized with a desire to make that union with my God everlasting. I felt more detached from the world, and more than ever disposed to recollection.”

Words like these cannot indeed be spoken by one who has to invent them. Art cannot rise to such a height, or give expression to thoughts so full of the fire of heavenly love. Before leaving the retreat of the spiritual exercises, the holy child wrote down the following resolutions:

1. “I will confess my sins and receive Holy Communion each time, as if it were to be the last”

2. “ I will often visit Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, particularly when afflicted”

3. “I will prepare for every Feast of Our Blessed Lady by some mortification, and every evening I will ask my heavenly Mother’s blessing.”

4. “I will endeavor to keep always in the presence of God”

5. “Every time the clock strikes I will repeat three times: My Jesus, mercy!”

She desired to add many other resolutions, but was prevented by her mistress, who came to her while she was writing. She desired her not to add more to what she had written, for fear that, by taking too much on herself, she might injure her health. For it was certain that, gifted as she was with the greatest firmness of character, and with such extraordinary fervor, what ever she promised Our Lord she would fulfill with all the energy of her soul. The happy impression made on Gemma’s heart by her First Communion never left her.

“The dear child,” says one of her mistresses, “she spoke of that great event with inexpressible joy, and in the hours of recreation often returned to the subject of the spiritual consolation experienced in those happy moments. During the spiritual exercises that are always preparatory to the First Communion of our children, her joy was at its height, and she used to take part in them, as if she also was then about to make her First Communion.”

She used also every year to commemorate that great day with special devotion, and called it her Feast Day. Let anyone who wishes to know in what this devotion consisted, simply read the letter that, on one of these Feast Days—in June, 1901—she wrote to her spiritual director. It has two parts. The first was written while she was in ecstasy, witnessed by several members of her family, and is a sort of introduction:

“MY FATHER, I don’t know if you are aware that the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus is also my Feast Day. Yesterday, father, I passed a day of Paradise! I remained all the time with Jesus; I spoke always with Jesus; I was happy with Jesus, and I wept too with Jesus. Interior recollection kept me more than ordinarily united with my beloved Jesus. O freezing thoughts of the world, away from me! I wish to remain always with Jesus, and Jesus only!”

Then turning to herself, as was her custom, to humble herself after such an outburst of love, she continued: “My Jesus, and You still bear with me? The more I think of my baseness, the more I lose myself in astonishment, and find nothing to bring me peace, until I fly to Thy infinite mercy. My Jesus, Mercy!”

She came out of the ecstasy, and remark with what ease she then continues her letter: “Father, where are my thoughts taking me? To my beautiful First Communion Day! Yesterday, the Feast of the Heart of Jesus, I felt again the joy of the happy day of my First Communion. Yesterday again I tasted Paradise. But what is it to taste it for one day only, when, later, we are to taste its delights forever! Truly, the day of my First Communion was the day on which I found my heart most truly burning with love of Jesus. And how happy I was, when, with Jesus in my heart, I was able to exclaim: ‘O, my God, Thy Heart is mine! That, surely, which constitutes Thy Beatitude can make also mine! What more, then, is wanting to happiness? Nothing!’”

Then returning, as usual, to her work of self-humiliation, she adds: “O father, father! But all days are not alike; I pass many in which I feel ashamed of myself. Oh! how many times have I not listened, to the deceits of the world! Oh! that Jesus would come quickly, and take my heart away, and take possession of it Himself; if He does not wish me to turn back, and to rob Him of it by my sins! O my God . . .” (and here again she became rapt in ecstasy as she wrote—“I would make a bundle of all my wicked inclinations, and hand it to Thee, in order that You might consume it in the FURNACE OF THY LOVE. But, my God, if I am not able to do everything at once, I will at least make it my object to destroy all my passions. And I promise Thee never to approach Thy Holy Table, if I have not previously been victorious in something over myself.”

I should never end, were I to quote all those passages in which she returns with always fresh eloquence to the subject of her First Communion. However, those few words of hers that I have put before my readers may be enough to make them understand the large heart that was within this child’s bosom, and the great heights to which this angel of the earth soared, when only nine years of age.

At her Confirmation God spoke to her heart, and, asking her for the sacrifice of her greatest treasure on earth, her mother, detached her from every earthly affection. In Holy Communion He made her taste the sweetness of the Bread of Life, and, inviting her to perfect union with His Divine Majesty, He thus disposed her to suffer those hard trials by which the love of God is exalted and purified. Thrice happy child! to whom it was given so soon to know the mysteries of the Kingdom of God, that are hidden from the greater part of mankind; and to taste the sweetness of the heavenly manna of the Blessed Eucharist, given by Him Who has said: “He who shall eat My Flesh, and drink My Blood, shall have eternal life.”