Ancie Wilfred

Nagpur: I get a phone call from a neighbor in the apartment complex. She has lost the key to her bank locker. There is nowhere in the house that she hasn’t looked. Moreover, she has just discovered that getting a replacement is costly, inconvenient and time-consuming.

Here is how the conversation goes:

Rachna: I have heard that you pray to some Abraham when you lose something and you get it back!

Me: Rachna, that isn’t Abraham. It is St. Anthony! (I cannot get upset or angry with her. She is a Marwari, not at all aware of Christianity or its beliefs!)

Rachna: Haan haan, vohi! Please unse bolna. I need that key urgently!

Me: Shall I come over to help you search? On the way I will talk to St. Anthony too.

(She stays in the 2nd block. I am in the 4th. It will take me a good 10 minutes, if I walk slowly. Praying in the midst of two young children, who are squabbling and playing, and their grandmother, who is watching a Tamil – noisy – movie on television … well, I am not sure I would even reach St. Anthony, leave alone hearing back from him!)

Rachna: Oh yes! Please come!

I walk over, talking to my favorite Saint on the way. As soon as I begin, I can feel his calm assurance in my heart. I haven’t the least clue where my dear friend may have left that single key without a key-ring, in her 3 BHK (bed-hall-kitchen) flat, but I know for sure that I am going to find it. In fact, the assurance is so strong that I feel the key will be in the first box I touch or the first drawer that I open! You would think it is overconfidence, wouldn’t you? Well, here is what happened.

I ring the doorbell to 2035. Rachna opens the door and, when she sees me, hugs me happily, shouting at the top of her voice: Mil gaya re! Mil gaya! Tere St. Anthony ko Thank You bol dena!

The key was in a box that she had searched at least thrice before! Howzatt?

From the time I can recall, I have enjoyed a very close connection with St. Anthony. It is one of those few things I take for granted in my life and I should thank my mother for. I may not have kissed the relic after Mass on every Tuesday or even attended the novena or Mass on St. Anthony’s Feast day, but I know that when I call on my dear Saint, he will listen and respond.

Yes, there have been times I didn’t get what I asked for. But it doesn’t mean he hasn’t responded. I hear his answer in my heart. So I can stop waiting for the thing I prayed for and focus my attentions on the next important task. This, according to me, is what faith is all about. It is the belief that you will get what you ask for – it is also about believing that whatever you get (or don’t get) is the best for you.

St. Anthony has done a lot for me. I am at a loss as to which memory to share with you all and which to omit. After all, at that given point in time, each particular event or thing was very important to me, which must’ve directed me to place it in St. Anthony’s court for his consideration and/or help.

Well, most of the times, it is for lost articles that I have turned to him. Gold jewelry –mine or belonging to friends, important id cards – without which I or someone close to me would undergo a lot of trouble, keys, an unmarked parcel that was left behind in a train, confirmation of railway tickets that are waitlisted … 95 percent of the time, he has honored my petition. I, on my part, have honored my part of the deal – sometimes with just a whispered ‘Thank you.’, sometimes with a monetary donation to the church, or with whatever I may have vowed to do or give.

There was this time when we were traveling from Delhi to Nagpur in the Rajdhani Express. We had been shopping at the Sarojini Nagar Market which is heaven for shopaholics. We had spent a fortune on clothes and shoes and bags – most of which were not really needed; we bought them only because they were so attractive at those cheap rates!

There was no space in our luggage for so much new stuff, so we packed all of it in an empty carton and just carried it along. Once in the train, we shoved the carton behind our suitcases to keep it safe from potential robbers. At our destination, we counted all the suitcases we had started the journey with, unintentionally omitting the latest addition – the carton.

En route to our home, we suddenly remembered the carton. As soon as it was confirmed to be missing from our luggage, I spoke to St. Anthony. Since the amount involved wasn’t a small one, I vowed a decent amount to him if I got the carton back. Logic or common sense dictated that there was no way I could get an unmarked parcel left behind in a train. However the small voice in my heart said “If God wills it, nothing can stop it”.

In the meanwhile, my father told us to inform the authorities about the incident just so that there would be no explosive-scare, since the carton was unmarked and was left under the lowest berth in the train. My husband and my brother met the RPF man at the Railway Station and informed him of the incident. You are well aware of the apathy and corruption prevalent in our government departments. Well, you would be surprised to know that within a couple of hours, I had my carton in my hands – intact and safe.

The RPF man whom we had contacted, got in touch with his counterpart at the next Railway Station. The latter got the carton removed from the railway coach and arranged for the next train coming to Nagpur to carry it back. And here it was!!! Doesn’t that classify as a miracle, knowing how the Indian bureaucracy usually behaves in such situations?

Thus it is that my walk and talk with St. Anthony continues and our bond gets stronger every day. I would like to believe that just as I advocate him as my favorite saint, he too counts me among his favorite devotees.