Don’t ask me how I knew, I simply knew. In third grade I was already telling people I would be a missionary to Russia, even though at the time I had no idea how that would come about. At age twelve I met a missionary sister and knew then that I would be both sister and missionary. I never worried about working it out; I must have instinctively sensed that God would do that—and he did!
After 8th grade, I entered the Daughters of St. Paul and that very same summer I began my training as an evangelizer, a missionary to urban America and rural America, approaching people in their homes and places of work, even on the farms and in the migrant camps. Every day confirmed what I already knew: the whole world is our mission field.
In 1983 I was asked to leave everything and go to Germany. The Lord who had kindled and enflamed that missionary zeal and love in my heart, was about to form me in that necessary detachment proper to an apostle, making me all things to all people. It was radical and painful. Yet looking back, I am deeply grateful.
In Germany I was part of new initiatives, new expansion, new growth, evangelizing on both sides of the dividing wall that separated free Germany from communist occupied Germany, then experiencing the excitement and the joy of that wall coming down. Still, this was only the beginning; a new mission territory was on the horizon.
On the night dividing the 20th and the 21st century, I was in the cathedral of Alba, Italy, with Pauline brothers and sisters from all over the world, celebrating the 100th anniversary of the Night of Ligh—that night when our Founder, Blessed James Alberione, praying before the Blessed Sacrament, was inspired to found the Pauline Family.
After a solemn Mass ending at midnight, the priest-celebrant invited everyone to come forward and receive a page of the Gospel as a mandate from the Lord for the new century beginning that night. The page I received contained the passage from Mark 10:28-31 where Jesus speaks about the reward of those who have left everything for his sake and the sake of the Gospel. I was expecting something more challenging, something that would set my life in a new direction, call out a further conversion. I looked at the text a second time and whispered disappointedly to the Lord, “This has already happened. You usually do better.” And with that I returned to my pew to pray through the night for the new century.
Kneeling next to me was Mother General. At about 2:00 am, she looked at me and asked, “How are you feeling?” “I’m fine,” I replied smiling. “Are you sure?” she asked again; “Why don’t you get a cup of coffee?” But I reassured her it wasn’t necessary and continued praying. Ten minutes later the same interchange happened again. I had a strange feeling that something besides coffee was brewing…. In less than five minutes Mother General asked me again the same thing. This time I answered, “Sr. Giovanna, I’m really fine, but to reassure you, I will have a cup of coffee.” So I went, had the coffee, and returned. Then she leaned toward me asking, “How are you feeling now?” “Really fine,” I answered. And then it came…: “Will you still feel fine when I ask you to go to Russia?” (Mind you, this is 2:30 in the morning, the entire conversation whispered before the Blessed Sacrament exposed). “Russia!” I gasped, “You’re joking, right?” “I was never more serious in my life,” came my superior’s reply. “Will you go? “Of course, I’ll go!” I replied. “Did you expect me to say no?” “No,” she said simply, her eyes twinkling. Silently, I pulled out the Gospel page I’d received and let her read it. We both smiled.
“Who will go for us?” asks the Lord, and he let me shout with the prophet, “Send me!” (See Is 6:8.) Called to proclaim the Good News to the farthest ends of the earth, my heart opened and expanded to embrace this new group of people entrusted to me in mission. It was a challenge on so many levels, but it never occurred to me to be afraid. I was sent in the Lord’s name, armed with his grace. For eight years I was blessed to live, work, and pray with the Russian people, proclaiming the Gospel of God. I learned so much and was myself evangelized, even as I evangelized them.
We Daughters of St. Paul are no longer in Russia, but the seed sown will bear fruit in God’s time, watered by the blood of Jesus and the many martyrs there. May God’s word continue to be proclaimed and to be heard.