It is an account that I have taken entirely from the
evidence given by a worthy lady, Caterina Servetti, a distinguished
benefactress.
The date was 6 February 1925. They were expecting Don Orione who was to
celebrate Mass before dawn in the church of St. Benedict in Cortona
(Tuscany). At three in the morning,
however, while everything was ready and the church was open in anticipation of
his coming, Don Orione did not arrive, even though the bus that took passengers
from the railway station had arrived in the upper town.
Finally in St Benedict's square resounded the customary
greeting of Don Orione: "Praised be
Jesus Christ." A little afterwards
Mrs. Servetti, standing at the door of her house, saw him come by, pulled
forward at the hem of his cassock by a lovely, helpful little dog.
The dog, once it had brought the priest inside, let drop
the part of the cassock that it had been holding in its teeth, stood up on its
hind legs and gave a deep bow, almost touching the ground with its head. The woman started to stroke it along the arch
of its back and Don Orione, making a sign over it with his hand, let it go with
these words: "Go, my good little
guide; go with my blessing." The
dog turned to favour him with a rapid bow, received another blessing, gave a
jump, as if for joy, bowed for the third time and left the house.
From the hallway where they were standing, the woman and
Don Orione watched it with a wondering look; it was such a remarkable
occurrence. Then suddenly they could see
it no more! It had disappeared without
taking any of the four streets that led out of the square.
They went up to the church of St. Benedict, where Don
Orione said Mass. After the thanksgiving
he went back to Mrs. Servetti's house for a milky coffee that the lady had
prepared for him.
During the conversation that followed, the episode of the
little dog came immediately to the fore.
The woman bemoaned the fact that he had sent it away without first
allowing it to have a refreshing drink of warm milk. Don Orione replied: "You don't understand." Then he told this story: "Having arrived in town on the bus from
the station I got out at the stop and went forward thinking I could find the
road that led to your house here. But, I
don't know how, it was so dark, I realised that I was not on the right
road. I had gone off it somewhere. Making matters worse was the fact that a
deep, wide ditch, possibly dug for the sewerage system, was preventing me from
going any further. Where could I
go? I could have tried other streets but
a priest, at that hour, without knowing where he was going... what would people
think of him? So I decided to go towards
the church of St. Margaret, where her body is venerated and I prayed to her: "Send me a guide who will lead me to
your shrine." There, under the
portico I would have waited for daylight before going down to the Servetti
house. Soon afterwards I saw under my
feet a little dog. I was worried at
first, as I thought to myself:
"Even a dog! And if it were
rabid... poor Don Orione!" And then
the little dog attached itself to the hem of my cassock and led me at last to
the Servetti house."
It must be added for the purposes of explaining this
incident that St. Margaret of Cortona is depicted with a dog at her feet. Furthermore, Mrs. Servetti, that same
morning, went up to the shrine and came across the exact image of the little
dog who had gone to accompany Don Orione.
"Don't say anything to anyone," Don Orione had
begged her, but, as the woman claimed, news of the incident spread immediately
around the town.
Source: "St. Luigi Orione" by Fr. Domenico Sparpaglione
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