Author: ANTONINO

FROM MY HEART TO YOUR HEART by Fr. Bernardino Andrade
(bernardinodandrade@gmail.com)

My sister, Agostinha, was thirteen years older than I. In descending order, she was the fifth of eleven brothers and sisters. I was the youngest. I don’t know if she ever attended school but I know that she could read and write a little bit. Her husband had emigrated to Brazil, then Venezuela, and finally to Aruba where he spent about thirty years. Besides being my brother in law, he was also my godfather.

I finished my four years of primary school when I was 12 years old. No more school ahead. The poor were not allowed to dream and to plan their lives. They just followed in the footsteps of their families and neighbours. I belonged to a poor farming family where nobody had a job to make money. Like all the neighbours, family worked on the farm to feed the family. No running water, no electricity, no toys and no time to play.

Farming in Madeira Island was a very tough job. The entire mountainous island is made up of very small pieces of land sustained by small man-made rocky walls with rocky steps. Everything was carried by the people on their shoulders. I don’t remember of thinking about my future. Like most of the children, my future was already destined. My future and the future of all the other boys and girls, was supposed to be farming the small pieces of land and possibly emigrate to another country like everybody else. I remember questioning myself about going to school. But anyway my parents sent me to school and no questions asked. However, “secondary school” and “university” were words that would never cross the minds of country children or their parents. That would be just for a small elite who worked for the government.

I was 12 years old. I still remember the place. My mother, my sister Agostinha and I were in our kitchen when my sister surprised me with a surprising and unimaginable question: «Bernardino, wouldn’t you like to be a priest?». My answer was simply «Yes». My mother started looking around for information, and on October 15th, 1950, I entered the Minor Seminary in Funchal. What still surprises me the most is that I didn’t go to the Seminary to study my vocation. I went to the Seminary to be a priest. I was ordained in the Diocese of Quelimane, Mozambique on June 12, 1965 and celebrated my first Mass in my home Parish (Madeira Island) on July 4th of the same year. This happened 55 years ago. One day an American journalist interviewed me and asked me: «But when you were 12 years old what did you understand about being a priest?». My answer was: «I am sixty nine years old and I still do not understand».. Priesthood is a mystery that God has been slowly revealing to me through my ministry, especially through the Sacraments and through my relationship with the poorest of the poor. I don’t know if I have been a good priest but what I know is that I have been a very happy priest.

My sister, Agostinha, besides being my heroine who planted the seed of my vocation into my heart was also my mentor. Very often she, like my father and my mother, took advantage of my holidays to come to me for Confession. She always reminded me to be poor and live for the poor. That was the kind of life she lived. Where there was suffering, she was there. I always tried to walk in her footsteps, knowing that they were the footsteps of Jesus.

Fr. Bernardino Andrade 19-07-2020

by Father Bernardino

«Be open to be surprised» is a sentence I heard a few days ago. «I found God by surprise» is the refrain from a touching Thanksgiving hymn that has been sung many times by the Soprano, Cátia Marques, here at the English Mass at the Chapel.

Last Sunday (July 5th) after Mass and after the cake, professionally baked by Manny, and coffee generously offered at the Moynihan’s Irish Pub, I had an unexpected surprise that has been bothering me ever since.

I don’t know how Marta (not her true name) found out about us; how she was informed about the English Mass and about People Helping People. What I know is that when I was getting ready to enter my car, this very nervous lady, with an expression of profound pain, approached me, pleading for help. Unfortunately I was not as hospitable as I wanted to be because the first thing I did was to ask her if she had a mask. She said yes, but she kept talking and getting closer to me, expressing her agony. Politely, but with no hesitation, I kept telling her that we could not talk until she put her mask on. She put her mask on. I suspected that she had been carrying the same mask for many weeks. That’s when I better understood what I had read in the beginning of this pandemic. What I had read was that this corona virus was going to be a genocide among the poor. They have less access to the information and because they don’t feel any pain they don’t understand why they have to wear things like masks, that don’t even look good, when what they really need is food and medication.

In a few moments she showed me her neck and her shoulders, completely full of scars. Her husband, with the help of his mother, had burned her with hot water, leaving a big part of her body full of scars. Then, in her words, he left her and their six children and chose a young girl.

Marta has six children. The oldest girl is thirteen years old and is mentally challenged. They were very hungry with no food to eat and no place to go. They lived on the other side of the city but they lost the place where they were living and presently are living in a garage on the other side of the city.

The first thing I did was to go to an ATM machine to withdraw some money using Carla’s card. But first I checked to see how much money People Helping People had available. Four euros was all that was available in the account. Any way I borrowed fifty euros and with that money I was able to help Marta a little bit. But after buying a bottle of gas how much money would be left for her to feed her family?

I asked her if she had a telephone. She said no. I volunteered to give her a lift and she was very happy to accept. After our arrival, she asked me to leave her there, said good bye and I came home.

This has been the nightmare that I have been living with during the last week. How to find her and her six children and offer her some more help? I hope she comes back to Penha de França Chapel to find us again. Maybe God will provide and together we will be able to alleviate her suffering.

Fr. Bernardino Andrade

by Fr. Bernardino Andrade
(bernardinodandrade@gmail.com)

It was June 12th, 1965, in a football field of the City and Diocese of Quelimane, Mozambique, very very far away from Madeira Island, my home land. My Bishop imposed his hands over my head, anointed my hands, and I became a priest forever. It was the day of my Priestly Ordination. Not counting the day of my Baptism, there is no doubt that the day of my Ordination was the most special day of my life.

After the Mass of my ordination, the Bishop, who always treated me like a son, asked me to give him a special blessing. The same thing happened with Father Vasco and Father Benjamim, two other priests who were ordained during the same ceremony. It was a very emotional and special moment… except for one thing. I am a member of a large family. Together we were thirteen members: my father, my mother and eleven brothers and sisters including me. But not one of them was present at my Ordination.

Only three weeks later, on July 4th, 1965, in my home Parish in Ponta do Sol, after travelling from Mozambique to Madeira, surrounded by my family, many friends, many neighbours and many Parishioners, I celebrated my First Mass in Madeira Island. Exactly in the same church where I had been baptized, received my First Holy Communion and Confirmation.

On the day of my first Mass, one of the most touching moments for me happened just before leaving to go to Church. It really was not part of my plans. My mother called me to her bedroom, closed the door, and asked me to hear her Confession and give her Absolution. She did this in such a natural away as if she had done this during her entire life. I was nervous but she was not. She knew that I was a priest and she knew that I could give her Absolution and say «Your sins are forgiven. Go in Peace». I was not ready for this. I almost felt like asking God: «Lord, can I do this? Do I have to do this?». I sat down on her bed, my mother knelt before me and together we had one of the most special celebrations of the Sacrament of Reconciliation of my entire life. After that it became normal for my mother and my father to come to me for Confession every time I visited them on holiday.

Sometimes she would come to Confession and after that she would call my father to come to Confession too. Then I would tell her: «Mother, you don’t know if he wants». Her answer was: «Of course he wants». And then she would call my father again and tell him: «Manuel, come. Bernardino is waiting». And I had no choice, but I was not sure if my father also had no choice. But maybe it was his choice, because even after my mother died he continued coming to me for Confession.

This was on the fourth of July of 1965. This was 55 years ago. I am not sure if I have been a good priest but one thing I know: I have been a very happy priest. And everything started when I was 12 years old, and my sister, Agostinha, asked me: «Bernardino! Wouldn’t you like to be a priest?» and I said «Yes». And that YES has been, and will be, repeated for the rest of my life.

Love & Peace,
Fr. Bernardino Andrade

by Father Bernardino Andrade

This is a letter written by Fr. Bernardino to Manolito, a young boy celebrating his First Communion. It was read out to him during Mass:

DEAR MANOLITO ON YOUR FIRST COMMUNION

One day an eight years old boy, called Pepe, was invited by his friends to spend a day playing and having fun in a park. His parents prepared a small bag with two sandwiches, some fruit, some peanuts, some cookies and a bottle of orange juice. They knew that it would be enough for him and share some with a friend, just in case. When Pepe was playing with his friends his attention was drawn to an old lady who was seated by herself, on a bench, under one of the trees of the park. She called his attention and his sight. She was different. Once in a while he would look at her and she would smile at him. At lunch time every child picked up his lunch, got together and enjoyed their meal and the company of one another.

Pepe took his lunch bag and approached the elderly lady, told her good morning and asked her if she was hungry. She smiled and said… -«just a little bit».

«Would you like to have some of my lunch? I have a lot», said Pepe.

The elderly lady answered: «If you don’t mind». – «Oh… by the way… what’s your name»? – «My name is Sara. » Then they started having lunch together. Not too many words but lots of smiles. Pepe could see that Mrs. Sara was not just a «little bit» hungry. Sara was really hungry. It was time to go home. They said good bye to each other and separated into different ways. But when Pepe got home he was feeling so happy and expressed that happiness not just in his face but also in the way he acted with his parents and the kindness he expressed to his brothers and sisters.

Everybody was very happy with the kindness and joy he was treating everyone. That was not his normal way of arriving home. Usually he was very tired and would feel irritated with anything: with his parents, his sisters and even with the cat. His mother asked him: – «Why are you so happy today»? Pepe’s answer was: «I had lunch with God in the Park. She had such a beautiful smile».

When Sara got home she looked so happy. She was transformed. Love has the power of transforming people. Her family was very surprised. That was not the normal way of Sara arriving home. She was always tired, angry and bitter. But this time she looked so happy. Her son approached her and asked: – «Mom! You look so different. You look so happy. What happened with you? ». Her answer was:
«I had lunch with God in the park. He is younger than I thought».

Manolito! The Bible says: «It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me». (Gal. 2:20).
Do you want to know a secret? Pepe had a father and a mother like you have. I feel so privileged for having baptized you eight years ago. And giving you today your First Communion. I feel so privileged for having baptized your sister, Natalia, and your brother, Pedro. And I feel so privileged for having your father, Manolo, your mother, Carolina, and your grandmother, Arlinda, playing such an important role in the «People Helping People» Association.

God loves you and so do I.

Fr. Bernardino Andrade
May 31, 2020, Pentecost Sunday

by Fr. Bernardino Andrade

The Italian composer Giacomo Puccini wrote, among other operas, La Boheme, Madama Butterfly and Tosca. It was during his battle with terminal cancer in 1922 that he began to write Turandot, which many now consider his best work. He worked on the score day and night, despite his friends’ advice to rest, and to save his energy. When his sickness worsened, Puccini said to his disciples, “If I don’t finish Turandot, I want you to finish it.”

He died in 1924, leaving the work unfinished. His disciples gathered all that was written of Turandot, studied it in great detail, and then proceeded to write the remainder of the opera. The world premier was performed in La Scala Opera House in Milan in 1926, and Toscanini, Puccini’s favorite student, conducted it.

The opera went beautifully, until Toscanini came to the end of the part written by Puccini. He stopped the music, put down the baton, turned to the audience, and announced, “Thus far the master wrote, but he died.” There was a long pause; no one moved. Then Toscanini picked up the baton, looked at the audience and, with tears in his eyes, announced, “But his disciples finished his work…”

The opera closed to thunderous applause and to a permanent place in the annals of great works.

Jesus instructs us in His Ascension message to finish His work of saving mankind by proclaiming His Good News by words and deeds.

Jesus brought to the world an enormous project. The project of Jesus sent by his Father was to build the Kingdom of God.

The Father didn’t send His Son to the world to build the Catholic Church. The Catholic Church is just an instrument to build the Kingdom of God.

But He didn’t finish his job. Now, like Puccini’s disciples, it’s up to us to continue His job. To build the Kingdom of His Father.

Love & Peace,
Fr. Bernardino Andrade May 24, 2020