Don Giuseppe Berardelli

Whilst endless sagas have been heard
Many still remain to tell
Tragic tales of COVID-19
Journeys in and out of hell
Heroes will abound; however
Those who rate the highest praise
As so often we've discovered
Come in unexpected ways

Don Giuseppe Berardelli
Died when he was seventy-two
Maybe, in the scheme of things
That's what he was supposed to do
Nothing seemed premeditated
Not until that moment when
Providence again appeared
To once more take its cue from men

Don Giuseppe Berardelli
If by chance you do not know
Lived in an Italian town
In Lombardy called Casnigo
In 2020, March it was
Along with others of his age
Don Giuseppe came to feel
The force of the pandemic's rage

When suddenly he couldn't breathe
The cleric with his Rosary
Was taken at the greatest speed
To hospital in Lovere
Someone found a ventilator
Even where there were so few
To help the stricken on the ward
Even now, he could pull through

But that was when Giuseppe saw
Beyond his dark, foreboding fears
A lad lay dying next to him
Around a quarter of his years
The ventilator being offered
He declined with gratefulness
If this young man should need it more
He himself must need it less

No one knows the young man's fate
But if he lives, we hope at least
He maybe some days thinks to light
A candle for a selfless priest
As for Father Berardelli
No one's sure which day he passed
It could have been the Ides of March
All debts paid, in peace at last