THE LITTLE STATUE OF SAINT JOSEPH

Two cart drivers were loading their carts with the rubble of a large house that had been demolished. They were good and honest men, but completely indifferent and ignorant when it came to religion.

Suddenly, one of them pulled a little statue of Saint Joseph out of the heap of rubble with his shovel.

“Here,” he said to his companion. “A little god...”

“Don’t break it. It would bring you bad luck.”

“Do you believe in old wives’ tales?”

“It’s better if you give it to me. Although I’m not much of a churchgoer, I’d rather take a little saint home with me than throw him into the cart. That might bring me trouble later.”

“You’re right,” replied the other, perhaps remembering the days of his First Communion. “It’s better to take him along...”

Years went by. The cart driver was now an invalid old man, stretched out on a bed of rotting wood. In his room stood two broken chairs, a rickety little table, and a few pieces of blanket. He was ending his days in poverty. Beside him was his thirteen-year-old granddaughter...

“Grandpa, if you’d like, I’ll go and call the priest who teaches us catechism. He’s a good man.”

“No, child, I’m not that ill yet...”

It is always the same. Poor people never think they are seriously ill. But Saint Joseph took care of him.

“Little Maria, bring me the statue of Saint Joseph that’s over there... It wants to speak to me... I can hear it...”

“Poor Grandpa! The fever is consuming him...”

She places the image of Saint Joseph in his hands and begins to cry. It seems to her that the time has come to insist:

“Dear Grandpa, would you like to speak with the parish priest? He is so kind; you know him...”

“Speak? ‘Speak’ is too vague. Tell him I want to go to confession, do you hear?”

“Thank you, my Saint Joseph. You save those who have shown you respect! Thank you, thank you!” the girl said, running to fetch the priest.

Reconciled with God and kissing the little statue, he said to those present:

“Do not forget God, your religious duties, or Sunday Mass. I did none of these things, and I regret it. Saint Joseph saved me.”

A few days later, the old cart driver died a holy death, clasping the little statue of his great benefactor, Saint Joseph, in his arms.