A story for every day...

It was April, and we had just finished the exercises for the month of Saint Joseph, which we celebrated for the first time in the school. A student in the third grade said to his younger brother, who was in the same class as him: “Since I have learned to know and pray to Saint Joseph, my lessons and my duties cost me nothing. When you are embarrassed about something yourself, pray to Saint Joseph, and you will see that everything will be fine afterwards.” Two days later, a large composition was given that was to be worth three, a quarterly composition that was, therefore, quite important and decisive both for the report card and for the prizes. In the third grade, it was a very difficult Latin version. The oldest understood the task and made an excellent copy; he was the first. The younger one tried to understand, leafed through his dictionary, put his head in his hands; in vain he worked, he saw nothing, he did not understand, it was too difficult. Half the time has already passed, and nothing is done yet. “I am going to be last,” said the good little young man, “which will put me second to last in excellence on my report card.” And as he said this, he was quite sad. But suddenly a ray shone in his heart, it was that of hope. He remembered Saint Joseph, and recited in his honor an Our Father and an Ave. “Ah!” he said afterwards in recreation to his brother, “Saint Joseph has made me find what I couldn’t find, I’m sure I’ll be second.” He was not mistaken: his copy was almost as good as that of his elder brother. And he would recount this fact with gratitude. Good young man! He died the following year of a precious death before God.

(We quote this fact verbatim, as it was given to us by the chaplain of a college run by the Marist Fathers. Marists).

No problem is beyond the power of Saint Joseph. Alas! We too often forget to have recourse to him in our needs.