Selected Excerpt- An Incident in My Early Life
Transcribed from original, (pp. 100-103)
When I was about nine years old, my father bought me a beautiful toy ship of war, manned with sailors and guns and with sails furled to the winds. In company with a cousin of mine I hastily carried it to a canal which ran about half a mile from my home, and with a long cord attached to it, took the greatest pleasure in drawing it through the water. At last after an hour or so of this pastime I grew wearied [sic] and tired and threw myself flat on the bank in order to raise with my both hands the handsome toy.
Just at this minute a protestant boy whom I disliked was passing by, and seeing the ease my position gave of giving me a ducking he touched me on the heels and I fell headlong into the water. After performing this nasty trick, he ran away; and I should have then ended my short career, had not my cousin stood near. Fortunately he did not pursue my enemy, but at once began to cry for help. A bridge-keeper heard his cries and came rushing with a long grapnel pole to the scene. “Right down there”, said my cousin, and the pole descended immediately, and happily for me the grapnel picked me up sitting as I must have been in the mud sixteen feet below. I had a hold of the pole with one hand and my other hand held my cap when I was brought to the surface.
My body resembled a puncheon, on account of the great quantity of the dirty water that I had swallowed. The bridge-keeper took me in his arms and hastened to his little lodge where he immediately began to roll me to and fro on a table to not only try to revive me but also to extract the villainous matter that had swollen my stomach. In the meantime my cousin hurried off to get my father. I had recovered somewhat when he had arrived, and at once he drove me home. For over eight months I lay in bed, making a great struggle with death. Almost daily a doctor visited me and he frequently brought another in the way of consultations. Fever after fever came and left me weak and incapable of performing the least movement. Emetics were constantly given me in order to rid my stomach of every trace of filth brought to it by the swallowing of so much bad water. Had I died then, I often think where would my soul be to-day? I was attending then a Protestant school whose principal had a great reputation as a teacher; I knew only a few prayers taught me by my mother and very little of the catechisms. A year after this accident happened, father removed to another part of the city, and as I was at that time on the convalescent side, I was sent to St. Mungo’s Academy which was conducted by the Marist Brothers. It was there where I prepared for my first Communion and was confirmed on the same day.
After I was two years in the classical College of Rockwell, Co Tipperary, Ireland, I mentioned this incident of my life to my spiritual director, Fr. Richard. He listened most attentively, and at its conclusion, solemnly declared that in gratitude for my preservation, it was my bounden duty to become a priest, that God had reserved for me a noble mission to save sinners; and that this was the only means I could in any way adequately return God thanks for the great boon- the priceless favor He bestowed on me. I took his advice and at once notified my parents of my resolve.