The following is from The Confessions: Saint Augustine of Hippo (Ignatius Critical Editions), translated by Sr. Maria Boulding, O.S.B.:
Monica, grieved, is
consoled by a vision
You stretched out your hand from on
high and pulled my soul out of these murky depths because my mother, who was
faithful to you, was weeping for me more bitterly than ever mothers wept for
the bodily death of their children. In her faith and in the spiritual
discernment she possessed by your gift she regarded me as dead; and you heard
her, O Lord, you heard her and did 
not scorn those tears of hers which gushed
forth and watered the ground beneath her eyes wherever she prayed. Yes, you did
indeed hear her, for how else can I account for the dream by which you so
comforted her that she agreed to live with me and share my table, under the
same roof? She had initially been reluctant to do so, repelled by my
blasphemous errors, which were loathsome to her. But she dreamt that she was
standing on some kind of wooden ruler, and saw a young man of radiant aspect
coming toward her; he cheerfully laughed at her, whereas she was sorrowful, overwhelmed
with grief. He asked her the reason for her gloom and daily tears, though as
usual his question was intended to teach her, not to elicit information for
himself. She replied that she was mourning my ruin. He then instructed and
admonished her to take good heed and see that where she stood, there also stood
I. This was to reassure her. She took heed, and saw me standing close beside
her on the same rule.
How else could this have happened, if not
because your ears were open to the plea of her heart, O good and all-powerful God,
who care for each of us as though each were the only one, and for all alike
with the same tenderness you show to each?
Another telling point was that when she had related the vision to me, and I had
launched into an attempt to persuade her that she must not give up hope of some
day becoming what I was, she promptly replied, without the slightest hesitation,
“No: I was not told, ‘Where he is, you will be too,’ but, ‘Where you are, he
will be.’ ” I confess to you, Lord,
that, as my memory serves me—and I have often spoken of this episode—I was more
deeply disturbed by this answer that came from you through my sharp-eyed mother
than by the dream itself. She was not worried by the false interpretation that
had come to me so pat, but saw immediately what needed to be seen, as I had not
done until she spoke. The dream foretold, so long in advance, the joy in store
for this devout woman many years later, and so gave her comfort in her present
anxiety. Nearly nine years were to follow during which I floundered in the mud
of the deep and the darkness of deception, often struggling to
extricate myself but crashing heavily back again. Yet throughout those years my
mother, a chaste, Godfearing, sensible widow of the kind so dear to you, though
more eager in her hope was no less assiduous in her weeping and entreaty, never
at any time ceasing her plangent prayers to you about me. Her pleas found their
way into your presence, but you left me still wrapped around by the fog, and
enveloped in it. (Bk III, Ch 11, 19-20)
Conversion of Augustine and Alypius; Monica’s joy
I closed the book, marking the place
with a finger between the leaves or by some other means, and told Alypius what
had happened. My face was peaceful now. He in return told me what had been
happening to him without my knowledge. He asked to see what I had read: I
showed him, but he looked further than my reading had taken me. I did not know
what followed, but the next verse was, Make room for the person who is weak
in faith. He referred this text to
himself and interpreted it to me. Confirmed by this admonition he associated himself
with my decision and good purpose without any upheaval or delay, for it was
entirely in harmony with his own moral character, which for a long time now had
been far, far better than mine.
We went indoors and told my mother, who was overjoyed. When we related to her
how it had happened she was filled with triumphant delight and blessed you, who
have power to do more than we ask or understand, for she saw that you had
granted her much more in my regard than she had been wont to beg of you in her
wretched, tearful groaning. Many years earlier you had shown her a vision of me
standing on the rule of faith; and now indeed I stood there, no longer seeking
a wife or entertaining any worldly hope, for you had converted me to yourself.
In so doing you had also converted her grief into a joy far more abundant than
she had desired, and much more tender and chaste than she could ever have
looked to find in grandchildren from my flesh. (Bk VIII, Ch 11, 30)
For more about this edition of The Confessions, visit www.IgnatiusCriticalEditions.com.
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