Today November 20

Today is the feast of Blessed Mary Fortunata Viti, born Anne Viti, (1827 - 1922). Yes, those dates are correct; she DID live to the ripe old age of 95, quite an accomplishment. Her religious name "Fortunata," meaning "lucky," is ironic; it's kind of like the old joke: "Lost dog. Description: 3 legs, 1 ear, some mange, castrated. Answers to the name of 'Lucky.' " She wasn't THAT bad off, but one could say she had a very rough life. Her father was an inveterate alcoholic and gambler and drank and gambled all the money away from the household, the money to feed and care for NINE children. Distraught, her mother died when Anne was only 14 and being the oldest girl left in the house, she had to care for all the other kids . . . and even their dad when his health suffered. She never let the other kids speak disparagingly of him, even when his behavior warranted it. She showed him nothing but love and respect all those years. If TV has taught me anything, the long-suffering, courageous, and don't forget beautiful, blond-haired daughter brings him around in the end, right? Wrong. He died without ever having changed his ways nor apologizing for what he did.

She never got much of an education -- nor was she at all rich -- but her loving disposition (and knockout good looks) resulted in plenty of marriage proposals. But Anne had the Lord on her mind. She decided to join the Benedictines, and while she actually favored a more distant convent, she entered the one in her home town of Veroli -- which was a good thing, as it turned out. That other convent was later disbanded and all the nuns scattered.

Sister Fortunata now embarked on her long spiritual journey -- without ever leaving home. One of the first things to occur was her decision to turn down the generous offer to make her a choir sister rather than a lay sister, which is what she came in as. This would entail getting a real education and a lot higher status in the convent. But as she later explained to a fellow lay sister who had just complained that their lot was little better than that of a servant, "Don't let that bother you. I was offered the choice of being a choir nun and I would have loved to sing the praise of God. To me, these sisters are like God's angels. But I chose rather to be a lay sister, in order to have greater opportunity to practice humility."

And practice humility she did. From a routine that was long and repetitious, to mending clothes and vestments, to helping the sick nuns, to simply spinning thread, she offered her whole life as a prayer to God. She practiced no great penances and always kept to herself, but still people sought her out. Visitors with problems and neighboring schoolchildren could often be found in her company. She always knew just the right words of comfort and advice to say. God inspired her. I mean, she heard no voices, but she so opened herself to his Holy Will that she always knew what to say. She knew future events sometimes, also. She knew which postulants were going to make it and which weren't -- even contrary to the other nuns' expectations. She "saw" in advance that one priest who served them would leave the priesthood, and another would leave and eventually return. She did do battle with evil spirits, but she didn't dwell on that aspect of her life, commenting quietly that prayer and the Sign of the Cross helped her to resist and win.

When she died quietly and peacefully in 1922, few of the sisters knew they had a saint in their midst. I'll bet some even thought, "What shall we write about her in the [death] announcement?" kind of like they did when St. Therese died. But the people knew. They treasured her memory, and two girls were miraculously cured of TB through her intercession. She was beatified in 1967. Blessed Mary Fortunata, pray for us.