Turn Italy 1935. The normally quiet convent of Kenosian religious sisters is in an uproar. A special visitor has arrived. A fellow sister born in Faraway, Sudan in Northeast Africa. She has come to relate the amazing story of her life. But can the sisters find her? This is the story of Josephine Bacchita. The Saints. Adventures of Faith and Courage. Josephine Bacchita, Episode 1. The Ahrstruck Child. Listen to all the episodes and discover new shows at TheSaintsFodcast.com. Sister Lucia. Sister Lucia. Yes, Mother Dolorosa. I'm here. Where is she? Mother Bacchita? Yes, Sister. Mother Bacchita. Is she not in the chapel? My girl. If she were in the chapel, I wouldn't have asked where she was. I escorted her there just as soon as she arrived. In any case, she's not there now. And the others have already started gathering. I'll find her mother. And see that you don't lose her on your way back. And don't lose her on your way back. God, give me patience. Mother Bacchita. Mother. The Saints. My soul. My Savior. God, to thee. How great the art. How great the art. Bravo. There you are, Mother. Oh, motherless. Our duet can now become a trio. Welcome, child. This poor gentleman was very hungry. I saw to it he was fed at once. You don't mind? No, of course not. Pressure's girl. But I'm afraid, Mother, that we're very nearly late. Yes, yes. Of course. I must say goodbye, Senior. You are a gift from heaven, Mother. As are you. As are you. Litaue, Sister Lucia. You are much less cheery than when I arrived in our ghost sister. Forgive me, Mother. I've had another less than kind interaction with I beg your pardon. I shouldn't say. It is not easy to forgive unkindness. But you're so joyful, Mother. I find it hard to believe you could ever harbor anger toward anyone. Oh, child. I think you will like what I have to say today. Penal mind who are stairs and whispers. They're all good natured. It's only that none of us have ever seen an African nun. I have spent the last 39 years being such a spectacle dear. I'm quite used to it by now. Mother Bacchita. Oh, Mother Bacchita. Mother Bacchita, it is such an honor. I'm Mother Maria Dolorosa, the Abyss of this community. I am humbled that you would have me here to speak, Mother. We've been awaiting the day with baited breath. I assure you. I do apologize for our little mis-hub upon your arrival. It isn't usually our custom to lose our guests. Oh, no one lost me. The thought is mine. I have a habit of wandering off. Ah, I see. In any case, you're here now. Why don't we begin? Sisters? Sisters? Hush! Now, please. We've received a great gift today. A canosian sister of special repute has been sent all the way from Skio to share her story with us. I've heard only second and third hand accounts of her life, but I can assure you that if we listen now under the guidance of the Holy Ghost, she'll provide us today with much to learn from and reflect upon. Sisters, let us give a warm welcome to Mother Josephine Bacchita. La Détrié Sus Christus. Nuke et Natanam Amen. Let us sit with zeal this time. La Détrié Sus Christus. Nuke et Natanam Amen. What a gift you have voices to say these words that can never be said enough. Before we begin, Sister Lucia might I have a chair. Oh, yes, of course, Mother. Thank you, Child. The spirit is willing. What a flesh! There we are. Thank you, dear. You're very welcome. Sit down, Sister Lucia. Yes, Mother Dorosa. I must admit to you, Sisters, that I have come here somewhat reluctantly. My place is among the poor of skill, and I do feel much less confident in my speaking than I do in my service to them. However, my mother Superior believes firmly that my story is one that will open many doors through which the Spirit of God may enter. If this is so, then I come here gladly. I'll be it anxiously. My name is Josephine Paquita. I have suffered much, Sisters, suffered in my body, in my heart, in my mind, and it's taken a great toll. And yet, I say it is through the grace of this very suffering that I have come to know and love God as my one true Lord and Master. If you will indulge me, I wish to tell you of that journey now. I take you back to my days as a happy child in Sudan. I'm here, Mother. Child. I was singing the song we land from the same matter with you. And how many times have I told you it's no longer safe to go out alone and without your word? I'm sorry, Mother. You should know better. Yes, Mother. I'm not going to lose another child. Do you understand? Yes, Mother. Oh, my sweet girl. I didn't mean to scare you. I know, darling. I know. I just wanted to look at the moon and the stars. The moon and the stars you can see from the Gatia. The sound of the creek helps me to think about them. And what thoughts is it nurturing tonight? Mother, who's the master of these beautiful things? Master, little one. I look at them and I feel that they're so beautiful, so. So. Mysterious? Yes. But what about the one who made them? I want to know who could do something so amazing, Mother. Yes, but Bikita, why master? Whenever I'm here looking up at these things, I feel that their makeup is somehow singing to me. I want to sing back, Mother. I want to fall to my knees and... Dip your hand into the creek. There's a spirit present within the waters that run through her and within the stones that rest in her and the trees that grow beside her. Just as there's a spirit present within the moon and every star in the sky. To sing songs to them is a very good thing. They deserve our honor. But must they be ruled, darling? Is it not far better to be free? I guess, but I still wonder... I love how much you wonder, little one. Your wonder is wonderful. But enough for tonight. Can we stay for just a few more minutes? It isn't wise, Bikita. The makeup of the moon will like nothing happen. Just a few more minutes and you must snuggle up close to me. O, little one, O, little one, I love you, Makashi. Mama was wrong, of course. We are meant to be free sisters. But not in the sovereign manner that she meant. Bless her. There is a reason I felt so drawn towards Sarinda at the sight of such wondrous works. And God was listening as I responded that night to the ache he had placed in my heart. Though the manner of his revealing himself to me, what he said in motion very soon after was a grace that was far more painful than I ever could have imagined. Papa! Whoa! Whoa! Papa! What is it, love? I gathered all the gum from the akesya, Luke. My goodness, girl. You carried this all the way here. Well, I dragged it some of the way. I won't say a word to anyone. Thank you. I'm going to play with the... Ah, ah, ah. You know you must see what else Mama has for you to do, fast. But the others have gathered already. I don't want to miss it. Then you better hurry and do whatever Mama tells you. Ah! What's wrong, Papa? Run, Ja. Go now. Hide by the creep, Makita. Hide! Stop right there, girl. Oh no. No, no, no, please. Please. Not another step. Please. Please don't let him see me. Don't let him see me. I know you are here, you little rats. You cannot hide for long. Please, let him be gone. Please. Ah! No, no, please. Papa, Mama, Mama. That's enough of that. Please, please let me go home. The slave market in Cardoom will decide where you may now call home. No, please. Please let me go. Mama, Mama. The Sains Podcast Hi, this is Peter Atkinson from The Mary Baggers. Tune in to episode two, The Slave, to hear the next installment of Josephine Bikita. Listen to all the episodes and discover new shows at TheSaintsPodcast.com. The Mary Baggers is the Entertainment Division of Relevant Radio.
