On one occasion, St. John Bosco (1815 - 1888) left his Oratory to attend to something in another town. His return journey proved to be more interesting than anticipated, with the opportunity to help someone in need in a rather unusual way. Don Bosco shares the story in his own words:

I was returning to Turin from Ivrea by stagecoach because the railroad had not yet been built, and I could hear the coachman blaspheming whenever he flicked his horses with the whip. When I asked him if he’d mind if I sat up beside him on the box, he readily agreed.

"Would you do me a favor?" I said, when I was up there.

Misinterpreting my request, he replied: "You want to get to Turin in a hurry? Very well!" and he began to lash the horses. Worse still, he began to accompany the strokes of the whip with blasphemies.

"No, that’s not what I want," I said. "I don’t care whether we get to Turin a quarter of an hour earlier or later. What I want is for you to stop swearing. Can you promise me that?"

"Oh! If that’s all you want, you have my word and I’m a man who keeps his word!"

"Good! How can I show you my appreciation?"

"No need for that! I shouldn’t swear, anyway."

I insisted, so he said that if he stopped he would settle for a reward of a few dollars. I promised him ten. Then he whipped the horses again and out came a curse. I warned him, and he said: "How stupid of me!"

"Don’t worry," I told him. "I’ll still give you the ten. But every time you slip I’ll deduct two dollars."

"It’s a deal," he replied. "This time I won’t lose a single dollar."

After a while the horses slackened their pace, and as he whipped them, he let out a curse.

"Eight dollars!" I called out. The poor man was embarrassed.

"Force of habit," he muttered and he kept grumbling to himself.

After another stretch of road, followed another crack of the whip and two more curses.

"Four dollars, my friend," I warned him. "You’re down to four dollars."

"I can hardly believe it!" he cried angrily. "Why must bad habits be so troublesome and so hard to break? I’m thoroughly disgusted with myself. I have no self-control. This accursed habit has already made me lose six dollars."

"My friend you shouldn’t be upset over such a trifle. I suggest you should be more concerned for the harm you are doing to your soul."

"You’re right. I am hurting myself a lot. This Saturday I’ll go to confession. Are you from town?"

"Yes, I live at the Oratory of St. Francis de Sales."

"Good. I’ll come and make my confession to you. What’s your name?"

"Don Bosco."

"I’ll see you then."

Before we reached Turin, however, he let out another curse. He was now down to two dollars but I pressed him to accept the ten because of the effort he had made.

I expected to see him that Saturday, but three more weeks went by before he finally showed up. I saw him take a place among the boys but did not recognize him at once.

"Do you remember me?" he said. "I’m that coachman. I want you to know that since then, I abused God’s Holy Name once in a careless moment, but once only. Before that I had decided that if I ever fell again I’d punish myself by going on bread and water. Well, that’s just what happened, and I don’t care to go on bread and water another time!"