Blessed Benedetta Bianchi Porro and the beauty of Christlike suffering

One of the finest aspects of modern American culture is our willingness to find innovative ways to help individuals with disabilities. From motorized wheelchairs to individualized education programs to cutting edge assistive technology devices, there are many options available today to aid those with disabilities.

However, one of the worst qualities of contemporary life is our horror of the suffering experienced by disabled persons. When our technology is unable to eliminate their pains, cure their illnesses, or make them able to live “normal” lives, we are tempted to give up. The life of one young woman shows us a better way.

Blessed Benedetta Bianchi Porro was born in Dovadola, Italy, in 1936. She grew up in a devout family with five siblings, was a happy, beautiful child, loved reading, and was an outstanding student in school. But she also repeatedly suffered from health problems.

Almost immediately after Benedetta’s birth, her mother baptized her with water from Lourdes because she was so worried about the newborn’s health. Only three months later, Benedetta contracted polio. Although she survived the potentially fatal disease, Benedetta suffered long-term side effects. One of her legs never grew as long as the other, and she was forced to wear a medical brace on her torso to support her curved spine. Benedetta was also teased about her disabilities by other students. She was thirteen years old when she could no longer hear the teacher’s questions in school and realized that she was losing her hearing. Later, she had to use a cane to walk.

At the age of seventeen, Benedetta started college. She quickly discovered a love for the field of medicine. Believing the care of the sick to be her life’s vocation, she threw herself into her studies.

She was an excellent student, but it wasn’t easy for her to persevere. On one occasion, a professor yelled at her in front of the entire class, angrily insisting that a deaf woman could never be a doctor. Benedetta responded to him with patience and charity—and she learned to lip-read. Although medical treatments and hospital stays periodically interrupted her classwork, she aced her exams when she recovered.

With the help of her medical training, Benedetta realized that she had a rare condition called Von Recklinghausen’s disease. The tumors which were growing in her nervous system had caused her deafness, and permanent blindness and paralysis could be expected as the disease progressed. Today, cancer treatments and other procedures are available for sufferers of Von Recklinghausen’s disease, but surgery to remove the tumors was the only option at the time.

Multiple head surgeries were performed on Benedetta, but they only slowed the progression of the disease. One of the surgeries even dramatically worsened her condition when a surgeon accidentally cut a nerve, which left her paralyzed on one side of her face.

Benedetta, very humanly, feared the surgeries and the pain associated with her condition. She was dismayed at her continually declining health and her increasing loss of autonomy. She grieved the need to abandon her studies and the end of her dreams of becoming a doctor. But instead of anger, bitterness, and rebellion over all the things she could no longer do, she turned to God for help.

From the time she was small, Benedetta had tried to see her Heavenly Father’s love for her in the good times and bad. She was comforted by the presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist. She sought the wisdom of the Holy Spirit as she made decisions about her medical care. As her sufferings increased, she drew closer to Christ on the Cross and drew strength from Him.

Benedetta traveled to Lourdes on two occasions and prayed for healing. When the woman in the bed next to her at Lourdes was miraculously cured, Benedetta heroically tried to accept the gift of being a witness that woman’s cure but without envy or disappointment that her own condition was unchanged.

At the end of her life, Benedetta was very limited in her ability to communicate. She was still able to speak, although weakly. For some inexplicable reason, her left hand was not paralyzed, which allowed her to write. She could also understand others when they spelled letters from sign language on one side of her face.

Benedetta admitted to her family and friends that her disabilities were hard to bear. But she also said that she was filled with God’s peace. She experienced both physical and emotional agony during her long battle with this disease, but she also experienced spiritual ecstasies and a great closeness to God.

That’s why her friends and family, rather than trying to avoid being around a woman in such obvious pain, tried so hard to communicate with her. They found themselves consoled by her presence and growing in their faith in God simply by being around her.

The night before Benedetta died, she thought the end was near and told her nurse that she was hoping for a sign from God. On the morning of January 23, 1964, her mother happened to tell her that a white rose had opened in the family garden, a surprising event for January. Benedetta recognized the rose as a sign from a dream she had had a few months ago. She died that very day.

Benedetta’s life, like that of other holy men and women who faced lifelong health problems, reminds us that freedom from pain in this life is impossible. Granted, we can and should as a culture seek morally licit ways to help those with disabilities, particularly through science, medicine, and technology. But we can also, through ordinary acts of compassion, genuine friendship, and the gift of our time, help those who are suffering.

More importantly, just as our Lord showed us the power of His redemptive suffering on the Cross, so we can follow His example when we are enduring severe pain, are misunderstood by others, or are forced to set aside our dreams. Rather than turning to despair, we can turn to God, who is always closest to us when we are suffering like His Son. In so doing, we will make our lives as holy as that of Blessed Benedetta Bianchi Porro, whose soul was made beautiful by God’s grace in her sufferings.