Pope Francis has often spoken effectively about the importance of Baptism, and on several occasions he has asked the faithful if they can remember the day on which they became a Christian. Jorge Mario Bergoglio retains a vivid memory of the Italian Salesian Enrique Pozzoli, who baptized him on 25 December 1936, as it is intimately tied to his vocation. On 20 October 1990, in Córdoba, the Jesuit typed out a detailed, six-page letter setting down his memories of Pozzoli, to fulfill a promise he had made to Salesian Cayetano Bruno, a historian of the Church in Argentina.
Fr. Pozzoli was very close to the Sívori family—mama’s family—who lived on Quintino Bocayuva 556. Mama’s brothers, especially the eldest, were very close to him…. As a family, we always turned to him whenever there was a problem, or when we needed help or advice. He baptized us all, except my second brother because (in January-February 1938) Fr. Pozzoli was in Usuaiah. Several times during the year (generally for Sant’Enrico) he came to lunch at Quintino Bacayuva 556, the home of my maternal grandparents…, and we would all get together there and celebrate with ravioli. He was the spiritual father of the family.
In 1955 he played a decisive role in the story of my vocation. On 21 September 1954 I got thrown from a horse…. I went to confession…and there — and without sitting at the tax desk like the saint of the day [Matthew] — the Lord was awaiting me “miserando et eligendo.”
Then and there I had no doubts that I should become a priest. I felt my vocation for the first time at Ramos Mejía, during the sixth grade, and I spoke about it with the famous “fisherman” of vocations, Fr Martínez SDB. But then I began secondary school and “goodbye!” I was studying Chemistry at the Scientific School of Industry and I used to pass long periods of time (especially in the summer) at my maternal grandparents’ home….
I didn’t say anything at home until November 1955: that year I was qualifying at the Industrial School (it was a six year program) and I enrolled for technical chemistry. At home they were doubtful. They were practicing Catholics...but they wanted me to wait for some years while studying at the University. Since I knew how the conflict would end, I went to Fr Pozzoli and told him everything. He examined my vocation. He told me to pray and to leave everything in God’s hands. He gave me the blessing of Mary Help of Christians. Every time I recite Sub tuum praesidium... I think of him.
Naturally at home the idea came up [from my parents]: why not talk to Fr Pozzoli? And I, with the best face in the world, said “yes.” I can still remember the scene. It was 12 December 1955. Papa and Mama were celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary. The celebration was a Mass (only my parents and the five children) in the San José di Flores parish. Fr Pozzoli was to celebrate it. Once the Mass had ended, Papa invited him to breakfast at the “Pearl of Flores” pastry shop…. Papa thought that Fr Pozzoli would not accept because he asked him if he could (I think that otherwise we would have gone home, six blocks away), but Fr Pozzoli (who knew what the topic of discussion would be) accepted without hesitation. What freedom of spirit and readiness to help a vocation!
Halfway through breakfast the subject was raised. Fr Pozzoli said that University was a good thing but that things should be undertaken when God wants them to be undertaken, ...and he began recounting various vocation stories (without taking sides), and at the end he told the story of his own vocation. He told us how a priest had suggested that he become a priest, how in just a few short years he had become a subdeacon, then deacon and priest... how he had been given what he had not expected....
Well, at this point “finally” my parents’ hearts had melted. Naturally Fr Pozzoli didn’t end by telling them to let me enter seminary nor did he demand a decision from them... He simply knew that he had to “soften” them... and the rest took care of itself. It was just like him: “una de cal y otra de arena ” the Spanish would say [“lime and sand”, which is equivalent to the English “the carrot and stick approach”]. One didn’t know his intention...but he did; and generally he didn’t want to reach the point where one would recognize that “he had won.” When he “whiffed” that he was about to get what he wanted, he withdrew before the others realized it. Then the decision came on its own, freely from those with whom he was speaking. They didn’t feel forced...but he had prepared their hearts. He had sown, and [sown] well…but he left the enjoyment of the harvest to others.