The Ten Hills

“TEN HILLS (Biographical Memoirs, Vol. VII, pages 467-470) OCTOBER 1864: Don Bosco seemed to be in a vast valley swarming with thousands and thousands of boys—so many, in fact, that their number surpassed belief. Among them he could see all past and present pupils; the rest, perhaps, were yet to come. Scattered among them were priests and clerics then at the Oratory. A lofty bank blocked one end of the valley. As Don Bosco wondered what to do with all those boys, a voice said to him: “Do you see that bank? Well, both you and the boys must reach its summit.” At Don Bosco’s word, all those youngsters dashed toward the bank. The priests too ran up the slope, pushing the boys ahead, lifting up those who fell, and hoisting on their shoulders those who were too tired to climb farther. Fr. Rua, his sleeves rolled up, kept working hardest of all, gripping two boys at a time and literally hurling them up to the top of the bank, where they landed on their feet and merrily scampered about. Meanwhile, Fr. Cagliero and Fr. Francesia ran back and forth encouraging the youngsters to climb. It did not take long for all of them to make it to the top. “Now what shall we do?” Don Bosco asked. “You must all climb each of the ten hills before you,” the voice replied. “Impossible! So many young, frail boys will never make it!” “Those who can’t will be carried,” the voice countered. The Innocent At this very moment, at the far end of the bank, appeared a gorgeous, triangular-shaped wagon, too beautiful for words. Its three wheels swiveled in all directions. Three shafts rose from its corners and joined to support a richly embroidered banner, carrying in large letters the inscription Innocentia—“ Innocence.” A wide band of rich material was draped about the wagon, bearing the legend: Adiutorio Dei Altissimi, Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti—“ With the help of the Most High God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.” Glittering with gold and gems, the wagon came to a stop in the boys’ midst. At a given order, five hundred of the smaller ones climbed into it. Among the untold thousands, only these few hundred were still innocent. The Penitent As Don Bosco kept wondering which way to go, a wide, level road strewn with thorns opened before him. Suddenly, there also appeared six white-clad former pupils who had died at the Oratory. Holding aloft another splendid banner with the inscription Penitentia—“Penance”—they placed themselves at the head of the multitude, which was to walk the whole way. As the signal to move was given, many priests seized the wagon’s prow and led the way, followed by the six whiteclad boys and the rest of the multitude. The lads in the wagon began singing Laudate pueri Dominum—“Praise the Lord, you children” (Ps. 112: 1)—with indescribable sweetness. Don Bosco kept going forward, enthralled by their heavenly melody, but, on an impulse, he turned to find out if the boys were following. To his deep regret, he noticed that many had stayed behind in the valley, while many others had turned back. Heartbroken, he wanted to retrace his steps to persuade those boys to follow him and to help them along, but he was absolutely forbidden to do so. “Those poor boys will be lost!” he protested. “So much the worse for them,” he was told. “They too received the call, but refused to follow you. They saw the road they had to travel. They had their chance.” Don Bosco insisted, pleaded and begged, but in vain. “You too must obey,” he was told. He had to walk on. Innocence Lost He was still smarting with this pain when he became aware of another sad fact: a large number of those riding in the wagon had gradually fallen off, so that a mere 150 still stood under the banner of innocence. His heart was aching with unbearable grief. He hoped that it was only a dream and made every effort to awaken himself, but unfortunately it was all too real. He clapped his hands and heard their sound; he groaned and heard his sighs resound through the room; he wanted to banish this horrible vision but could not. “My dear boys,” he exclaimed at this point of his narration, “I recognized those of you who stayed behind in the valley and those who turned back or fell from the wagon. I saw you all. You can be sure that I will do my utmost to save you. Many of you whom I urged to go to Confession did not accept my invitation. For heaven’s sake, save your souls.” The Eighth Hill Many of those who had fallen off the wagon joined those who were walking. Meanwhile, the singing in the wagon continued, and it was so sweet that it gradually abated Don Bosco’s sorrow. Seven hills had already been climbed. As the boys reached the eighth, they found themselves in a wonderful village, where they stopped for a brief rest. The houses were indescribably beautiful and luxurious. In telling the boys of this village, Don Bosco remarked: “I could repeat what St. Teresa said about heavenly things—to speak of them is to belittle them. They are just too beautiful for words. I shall only say that the doorposts of these houses seemed to be made of gold, crystal and diamond all at once. They were a most wonderful, satisfying, pleasing sight, The fields were dotted with trees laden simultaneously with blossoms, buds and fruit. It was out of this world!” The boys scattered all over, eager to see everything and to taste the fruit. Here another surprise awaited Don Bosco. His boys suddenly looked like old men: toothless, wrinkled, white-haired, bent over, lame, leaning on canes. He was stunned, but the voice said: “Don’t be surprised. It’s been years and years since you left that valley. The music made your trip seem so short. If you want proof, look at yourself in the mirror and you will see that I am telling the truth.” Don Bosco was handed a mirror. He himself had grown old, with his face deeply lined and his few remaining teeth decayed. The march resumed. Now and then the boys asked to be allowed to stop and look at the novelties around them, but he kept urging them on. “We are neither hungry nor thirsty,” he said. “We have no need to stop. Let us keep going!” Far away, on the tenth hill, arose a light which grew increasingly larger and brighter, as though pouring from a gigantic doorway. Singing resumed, so enchanting that its like may possibly be enjoyed only in Paradise. It was simply indescribable, because it did not come from instruments or human throats. Don Bosco was so overjoyed that he awoke, only to find himself in bed. He then explained his dream thus: “ The valley is this world; the bank symbolizes the obstacles we have to surmount in detaching ourselves from it; the wagon is self-evident. The youngsters on foot were those who lost their innocence but repented of their sins.” He also added that the ten hills symbolized the Ten Commandments, whose observance leads to eternal life. He concluded by saying that he was ready to tell some boys confidentially what they had been doing in the dream: whether they had remained in the valley or fallen off the wagon.”

— Forty Dreams of St. John Bosco