
About Me: Blessed Maria Schininà was born in Ragusa, Italy in 1844 to noble parents. Maria, the fifth of eight children, lived her days of infancy and adolescence surrounded by the care and attention of her parents and brothers.
Until the age of 21 Maria was no more than a carefree girl born of a wealthy family. Her intense and happy life alternated between religious duties she carried out with her family and her love for beauty, which she continuously perfected through music, fashion, and above all dancing. Maria never displayed any particular spiritual inclinations, even if she inherited her parents’ sensitivity towards the poor and the needy.
The death of her father in 1865 induced her to change her life, which she often declared did not satisfy her inner needs. Her soul could no longer ignore the cries of the poor who were living only steps away from her home. Her comfortable lifestyle was too much of a contrast to the misery just outside her door. It was for this reason that Maria began to look into herself, enlightened by faith and God’s calling which became ever clearer at the feet of the Eucharist. These were years of deep reflection.
In 1874 her youngest brother got married, leaving her and her mother alone. This turn of events posed no obstacle to her. She took off her elegant clothes and dressed like the poor, saying: “Let that which served my vanity go to the poor.”
From this moment on she decided to dedicate herself completely to the sick, the poor, and the outcasts who languished in the most squalid hovels in Ragusa, and to abandoned children, without paying attention to the criticisms from people of her social class who thought she was insane. Everything she did was suggested to her by her love for the Eucharist, which would constitute a fundamental characteristic of her life she would pass on to her spiritual daughters.
My Vision: Maria made herself poor to serve the poor, to cure in them “the suffering members of Jesus’ body.” Her life definitely took a new course. She started to participate in various humanitarian and charitable initiatives.
In 1877, after being elected directress of the new Pia Unione delle Figlie di Maria, she was able to attract young people in Ragusa, becoming a living example of how to carry out a “true social revolution” in the light of the gospel. A voice she heard one day while praying before the image of the Sacred Heart told her to obey the “ministers of the church.” This revelation brought her to renounce the monastic life and found an institute, following the advice of the archbishop. This institute would give material and spiritual aid to the poor and the needy in her city.
She loved Christ in the poor. “Love and reparation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus” meant for Maria Schininà an offering of herself by serving those who are poor and marginalized. She called the new congregation the Institute of the Sacred Heart. This congregation continues to serve the poor in different parts of the world: Italy, the United States, Canada, Madagascar, the Philippines, Nigeria, Romania, India, Panama, and recently France.
I Belong to: The Institute of the Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus

About Me: When I first thought of becoming a priest, I was a freshman at Penn State University, heading towards an engineering degree and contemplating marriage to a lovely woman named Lucille.
One day, while at the university, I attended a discussion sponsored by the Newman center on the topic of married priests. I remember telling our campus minister at the time that I would consider being a priest if I could be married. I told God that I would be open to the idea if things didn’t work out with Lucille. Time passed and Lucille and I did break up and I kept my promise to be open to the possibility of being a priest. I then began to look for some definite sign from God.
Although I didn’t receive any big signs, I did get lots of little indications that helped me to discern my call. For one, when seeing how active I was within the church, my dorm mates became convinced that I was likely to become a priest. I, too, began to realize that at vocation talks I felt as if the priest was talking directly to me. I asked some priest friends how I could be sure I had a vocation. They assured me that when the time was right I would be at peace with the decision.
It all came together for me the fall of my senior year at a friend’s wedding. I realized that I was identifying more with the priest at the ceremony then I was with the groom. Later, I saw the priest dancing, having fun, and receiving many hugs. Well this worked for me since I really enjoyed dancing and didn’t want to give it up to become a priest. I went back to Penn State that evening and things seemed to be coming together. I awoke the next morning feeling very happy about becoming a priest. I waited till the next weekend to tell my family and when I told them they were very supportive. They remained supportive and helpful throughout my discernment process.
My Vision: Now that I knew I was to be a priest, the next part of the discernment was —what kind of priest? As I looked at all the options, I began to explore religious communities and was drawn to the Paulists. The relatively small size of the community and the Paulist mission of evangelization, ecumenism, and reconciliation to North America really fit in to how I wanted to serve the Church as a priest.
Since May of 1989, I have enjoyed many years as a Paulist priest. It has been a challenging and wonderful journey thus far, and I am still dancing, hopefully for many years to come!
I Belong to: The Paulist Fathers
Have you had signs, even little ones, about your calling in life?
Father Ed Nowak, C.S.P. is currently working as the director for vocations of the Paulist Fathers. The vocations office is located in New York City. He has ministered in the areas of campus ministry in Minneapolis and Santa Barbara, RCIA, evangelization, outreach to inactive Catholics, and young adult ministries. His story is reprinted here from the website of the Paulist Fathers.

About me: Mother Theresa Maxis, cofounder of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, was born an illegitimate child of a Haitian mother and white British father, a fact concealed for over a century. An IHM historian discovered the truth in the mid-1940s while writing the history of the congregation’s first 100 years.
Although the IHM community has confronted racism since at least the 1930s, in their schools, during the Detroit civil disturbances in the ‘60s, and in many other political actions, its members didn’t realize their own cofounder was a woman of color, nor did they realize there was a cover-up until the writing of the book, No Greater Service, published in 1948.
Mother Theresa Maxis played a key role in forming four communities of women religious, including the first African American community of women religious in the United States, the Oblate Sisters of Providence. The other three communities include the Sisters Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (IHM's) of Immaculata, Pennsylvania; Monroe, Michigan; and Scranton, Pennsylvania.
I belong to: The Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary
My vision: During her time in the Oblates, Teresa had spent some time as the community’s elected superior. Unfortunately the era was one of pre-Civil War bigotry in Maryland. The bishop didn't see the need for an African American community of sisters and forbade them to take in new members. The threat of of the community's dissolution was very real. She left the fledgling Oblate community and traveled to Michigan to join a Redemptorist priest in founding a new order of religious sisters to teach immigrant children. From this beginning sprang the three communities of IHM's.
The four communities are now formally involved in a reconciliation and healing process confronting racism. In September of 2006 the four communities wrote a statement proclaiming the racism in their history and condemning the sin of racism.
About Me: In his ministry with incarcerated and at-risk youth, Father David Kelly, C.PP.S., anticipates that he will fail at least 70 percent of the time. He has worked against those odds in inner-city Chicago for two decades. At the Precious Blood Ministry of Reconciliation, which he helped found, staff members work with youth, help families heal from the violence that claims their sons and daughters, and reach out to a neighborhood that can seem like a war zone.
My Vision: Idealistic and pragmatic at the same time, Father Dave believes that only the reconciling power of the Precious Blood of Jesus can bring peace to such a place. “Reconciliation does not happen readily. In fact, it rarely happens,” he said. “But first and foremost, it is the work of God. It begins with the victim. And it makes of both the victim and the wrongdoer a new creation.”
I Belong to: The Missionaries of the Precious Blood

About me: James Joseph Alois Marty was born in Switzerland in 1834, the son of a shoemaker. Before the age of two, his mouth and face were both severely burned when he drank from a bottle of acid in his father’s shop. The acid caused swelling that nearly suffocated him and would leave his face permanently disfigured.
In 1847 Marty enrolled in the Benedictine school attached to Einsiedeln Abbey. After graduation, he entered the Benedictine novitiate at Einsiedeln and took the name Brother Martin Marty when he made his vows. He was ordained to the priesthood a year later and began teaching moral theology at the monastery school.
In 1860, at the age of 26, the abbot of Einsiedeln sent Marty to Southern Indiana to help solve the problems of the fledgling missionary community of Saint Meinrad. Marty facilitated peace between conflicting factions in the small Benedictine house and articulated a vision for the new community.
My vision: He envisioned a Benedictine abbey that would serve as a spiritual and liturgical center for the area, educate priests in a seminary, and provide pastoral assistance to the local people. This vision of monastic life, combining a life of prayer and work with support for the pastoral work of the church, has remained the mission of Saint Meinrad Archabbey o this day.
Although the assignment was intended to last only one year, Marty was elected the first abbot, and under his leadership Saint Meinrad flourished, becoming one of the cornerstones of Benedictine life in the United States. After a decade and a half of monastic leadership, Marty was named to lead the church in the missionary territories of the Dakotas. He became bishop of the Dakota territories and later the second bishop of St. Cloud, Minnesota, where he lived the rest of his life and demonstrated great enthusiasm in his work with the Sioux.
I belong to: The Benedictine Monks of St. Meinrad Archabbey.
Many thanks to Brother Christian Raab of St. Meinrad Archabbey for information on Bishop Marty. Information also drawn from Wikipedia.

About me: My call to a religious vocation started when I was about 8 years old. When I grew up I was going to be a nun. My father would see me walking around the house with my “towel veil,” and he would say, “You know, if you become a nun, you can't get married.” I assured him I did not want to get married, to which he would joke, “Good, then I won't have to buy a gun."
Time passed and my family moved to an area where Sisters were not active in the church my family attended, so they no longer had an influence in my life. As my teen years passed, I not only lost the thought of becoming a nun, I had gone away from the church all together. After a long time away, and within a short time after returning to the church (but not the sacraments yet), I started hearing a voice in me that maybe I should become a nun. Each time the thought came to me, I’d laugh it off as I felt that receiving the sacraments should be a prerequisite to entering religious life.
When I had returned to the sacraments, the thoughts of entering a convent would suddenly appear, but I was able to push them away due to the fact that my active life was in full swing and I had many responsibilities. I couldn’t just drop everything for a thought that was possibly—maybe—from God. After all, that would be quite a risk! After consistent inner promptings, I finally decided to stop fighting the “possibilities” and started praying to God that if this was what He really wanted, to please get me there, as I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
I would pray this prayer every time my mind turned to the convent, and then one night instead of the inner voice giving me the typical inspirations of the past several years, I heard, “So, now why can’t you look into the convent?” As I started to make the usual mental list, I realized that all the reasons that kept me from searching were no longer there. With still a bit of skepticism, I said, “OK, I’ll look into it if only to prove that this is not what I’m supposed to do. Then I won’t have to think about this again, and I can finally be at peace.”
I belong to: The Oblate Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in Hubbard, Ohio. Mother Maria Teresa Casini founded the order in 1894. Our charism is to offer our lives for the sanctification of priests. This calling is most visibly seen through our work of caring for retired priests, working in parishes, and running a school and day care which our Sisters were asked to take on when they first came to the United States from Italy.
I was strongly drawn to the charism of offering my life for the priests, as I believe the priest is the door to the heart of Christ. The holier the priest, the more people he will bring to Christ. There is one thing, however, that can stand in the way of doing God's will: ourselves.
My vision: Now, here I am, four years later in my second year of professed vows, preparing for the many joys and challenges that await me in Rome, Italy where I will continue my formation and study to prepare for ministry during the next two years. There are also a few things I have learned about God through this journey: —God is full of surprises —God never gives up on us —God is never outdone in generosity So, if you think God is calling you, don’t say no: Say you’ll look into it!
For more information about the Oblate Sisters, contact Sister Teresina Rosa at 330-759-9329 or write to: Oblate Sisters, 50 Warner Rd., Hubbard, OH 44425, email: jcoblate@aol.com.

About me: The future founder of the Passionist Congregation of priests, brothers, and nuns was born in Ovada, northern Italy, in 1694. Paul Danei was the eldest of six children and as a young man the main support of his father’s dry goods business. In his early childhood, his mother used to gather the children at her knee each day, telling them gospel stories, especially the details of Jesus’ Passion and death, as well as the lives of the saints, including the desert fathers.
Anna Maria probably had no inkling how her Paul remembered and pondered these stories, as they resonated with the grace of God in his young soul. Gradually, Paul and his brother, John Baptist, found their own desert in the family attic, where they prayed and imitated those ancient desert ascetics, even as the presence of God was becoming the center of their young lives.
Since the family fortunes varied, Paul’s teenage years passed as a “working student,” learning some Latin and Christian doctrine as he could. Whether at this time or in later life, Paul fed his soul on the writings of Saint Francis de Sales, Saint Teresa of Avila, and Saint John of the Cross, books that gave him the language and understanding of mysticism.
One milestone marked his first conversion: the impact of a priest’s sermon. Those words preached at Mass pierced his young heart, setting him on fire with love for God. Paul always called that sermon his “conversion.” Subsequently, he renounced the bequest of his uncle’s estate and declined a prearranged marriage.
As time passed, Paul's spirituality matured, but still he discerned no clear call. He became afflicted by a trial of relentless scruples, with severe temptations against faith. Paul prayed, did penance, but relief was long in coming.
Then, world events shook all of Italy: The Turks declared war on Venice, the pope summoned a crusade, and Paul signed up—a chance to suffer martyrdom for the faith. Even before embarking, as he was praying in adoration before the Blessed Sacrament, the Lord let Paul know that being a soldier was not exactly what he had in mind for him. So, armed with discharge papers, Paul returned home to pick up where he had left off, and to wait, wait, wait, for a clear indication of God’s holy will.
I belong to: The Passionist Congregation.
My vision: In 1718, when Paul was 24, the Blessed Virgin Mary took his life into her own hands, appeared to him clothed in black, with the sign of the Passion sign over her heart, and told him to gather companions and preach God’s love to the people. Every uncertainty in Paul’s heart melted, his soul glowed with love, and he broke into a flood of tears—at last: blessed assurance. Other visions followed, as did intense interior trials, but Paul claimed the grace Mary gave him, was clothed as a hermit by his bishop, and made a solitary retreat of 40 days during which he wrote a rule for the community Mary had asked him to found.
Paul lived to be 82, after he had founded many monasteries of Passionist men and one for the Passionist nuns in 1771. And in every one of his monasteries, he loved to pray in the attic!
Details of Saint Paul's life drawn from Rev. Gabriele Cingolini, C.P.
Feast day: October 19
About me:
My desire to respond to God through religious life came when I was a sophomore at Smith College. A certainty about God’s invitation to me started in prayer and reading of Saint John of the Cross. As time went on, only the “way” of entering religious life seemed to envelop me in peace. As college graduation and my 21st birthday drew near, I made an effort to ignore my desire to enter religious life and considered other alternatives such as graduate school.
These other alternatives, however, could never compete with the peace that entering religious life seemed to bring me. I did not know any sisters; so entering a religious order seemed terrifying, a bit like jumping into a dark well. On a college retreat during my senior year, I met a Cenacle sister who suggested that I consider the S.H.C.J. She spoke to me about Cornelia Connelly, the foundress of the society, and how Cornelia wanted her sisters to love the children they taught. As she spoke, a great certainty came over me, a feeling that this was the religious community for me.
I wrote a very vague letter to the provincial of the society and in turn, I was invited to take the entrance tests. I wrote to say that I would take the tests and enter in September. I had no idea I needed to be “accepted.” I met the Holy Child Sisters for the first time when I took the psychological entrance tests, and I loved them!
My vision: The society has encouraged me to develop all of my abilities, even those I did not know I had! I have even been able to earn a Ph.D. in chemistry. As a member of the society, I have taught high school as well as college students. Teaching has given me the ability to impact the lives of students and in turn, I have been changed by my experiences with them. I enjoy watching students come alive as they learn new concepts and ways of thinking.
Over the years, the society, the church, and our world have changed significantly. But my certainty about belonging in the society has never been in doubt. When I was a novice, I remember thinking how amazing it was that God called me to a relationship with him and how astounding each religious vocation was. Even though we are now seeing smaller numbers of religious vocations, I am not discouraged–each one still seems like a small miracle to me!
I belong to: The Society of the Holy Child Jesus.
This article adapted with kind permission from the vocations website page of the Society of the Holy Child Jesus.
![]() |
![]() |
About me: Saint Alphonsus Liguori (1696-1787) was an intellectual prodigy, earning his law degree while still a teenager. But a brilliant eight-year legal career came to a sudden end when he failed to read a few words of an important piece of evidence. His lapse meant the collapse of his case—the only case he ever lost. He admitted his mistake, apologized to his client, and left the courtroom for good.
In the aftermath of this professional disaster, Alphonsus turned in quite another direction: visiting the sick in a hospital for terminally ill people. Here he experienced a call to priesthood and began doing missionary work in and around Naples, Italy. This call would lead him to founding a religious order of women and later men, the Redemptorists.
Not long after bringing together his first followers, however, conflicts began between members of the community and the local nobility that would plague the young order for decades. On top of that, as he aged he suffered from asthma and migraines, his sight and hearing began to fail, he limped, and, later, severe rheumatism caused his head to become permanently bowed. All these ailments, however, did not stop Pope Clement XIII from appointing Alphonsus a bishop.
Liguori also managed to write more than 100 books, practically invent modern moral theology, preach, hear confessions, compose music and poetry, and paint. Early in his life he had promised himself never to waste a moment, and he lived up to that vow.
In his retirement Liguori returned to lead the Redemptorists. He gave the task of updating the community’s rule to another priest. This the latter did—in a way that made the order unrecognizable. When this would-be reformer brought the new rule to the nearly blind Alphonsus, he told him all was in order; all he had to do was sign. In the conflict which followed the new rule, Alphonsus found himself on the losing side of a divided order—at odds with half the community he had founded.
If that were not bad enough, in Alphonsus’ final years he experienced a dark night of the soul, a period of profound doubt and spiritual struggle. Only in the last days of his life did he regain a sense of consolation and peace.
After his death things changed again. The Redemptorists were reunited and put on a solid footing; today they number 7,000. Pope Pius VI, the man who had forced Liguori out of his own community, opened the cause for his canonization. Alphonsus was beatified in 1816 and canonized in 1839. In 1871 he received the rare honor of being named a doctor of the church, an eminent teacher of the faith.
I belong to: The Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer.
My vision: The path to Liguori's achievements was not an easy one. He was willing to give up his ambition and a prestigious career to serve others. He faced things we like to push away—mistakes, illness, conflict, setbacks—and he was unable to reap many of the benefits of his hard work. Yet he flourished anyway and developed many sides of his talents. In not letting struggle derail him, he shows us that responding to our life vocation is a lifelong process that requires patience, resilience, honesty, hard work, and faith even amid our doubts.
Feast day: August 1
About me: Maria de Mattias was born on February 4, 1805 in Vallecorsa, a small village in the mountains of
![]() |
Maria de Mattias,Foundress of the the Adorers |
central Italy, about 50 miles southeast of Rome. Her father, Giovanni de Mattias, came from a prominent and well-to-do family in the village.
At that time the Italian kingdoms and republics were in constant conflict with one another. Those who were on the run hid out in the mountains around Vallecorsa and preyed on the villagers and peasants. Unemployed young men from the town were attracted to these bandit gangs. Their way of life may have had an influence on Maria’s devotion to the Blood of Christ, rather than the bandits' blood of violence.
Maria was a lively, creative, and energetic child. Women of her day were forbidden a formal education, so she taught herself to read and write; she received much of her religious education from her father. Being an upper-class girl of the time, she grew up isolated and a bit self-absorbed, but in her mid-teens she felt the hollowness of her life and began to search for more meaning. One day when she was looking at herself in the mirror, she felt her gaze drawn to an image of the Virgin Mary. She felt that Mary was calling her to something more.
At age 17 she attended a mission preached by Saint Gaspare de Bufalo, a Missionary of the Precious Blood, an existing religious community. His preaching on the love of God, poured out in the blood of Jesus, touched Maria deeply. She felt that Gaspar's invitation to imitate Jesus by giving one's life for one’s brothers and sisters, especially the poor, was addressed directly to her.
In 1834, at age 29, Maria founded the Adorers of the Blood of Christ in Acuto, Italy. To her, the greatest mark of God's love for us is the blood his Son shed on the cross. Maria poured every ounce of her energy into shaping her religious community. She traveled widely—on donkey, on foot, by carriage—on treacherous mountain paths in all kinds of weather. She gave up monetary comforts and food to better serve neighbors in need.
Maria was able to open about 70 communities during her lifetime, mostly in the towns of central Italy but also three in Germany and England and one in Rome, where Pope Pius IX called on her community to establish a presence.
My vision: Fueled by a fervent love of Christ, Maria made it her mission in life to help people release the creative power within them to serve God and neighbor. She reached out to those in need, especially women and children, offering practical aid while guiding them to stronger faith lives.
Maria empowered people by carrying out various roles: as a talented teacher, a prolific letter-writer, an impassioned preacher, a compassionate listener, a patient diplomat, a creative collaborator, a resourceful problem-solver, and an untiring advocate. She laced every pursuit with prayer. "Pray much," she said. "Be of good heart and have unbounded confidence in God." It was an exhortation she practiced faithfully.
Maria had a profound love for God and remarkable ability to enable others to use their talents and gifts to build up God's Kingdom on earth.
I belong to: The Adorers of the Blood of Christ
Feast day: February 4