FATHER LOUIE GENUINELY CARED ABOUT THE OUTCOME OF YOUR SOUL
My parents worked full-time in demanding careers. Because of that my mom Gina Florentino struggled to find a daycare for me when I was about to be born. One day while my pregnant mother was visiting my aunt Cathy Florentino, Cathy offered to take care of me on weekdays until I was old enough to start school. Cathy went to church every day, and because I was with her during the week, so did I. I vividly remember her waking me up from my deep childhood slumbers and getting me dressed to go with her. This was how I was introduced to Father Louis M. Solcia, when I was about 8 weeks old. Father Louie could only be described as a kind and loving man who became similar to a grandfather figure.
When Cathy would take me with her to Our Lady of The Rosary Church in Little Italy, we would go and visit Father Louie. This began as short visits to say hello and to receive our blessings from the priest. But after his health declined, Cathy dedicated herself to being Father Louie’s driver and volunteering to care for the man she lovingly referred to as “Padre.” As a result, my visits to see him became more frequent. After a while, when Cathy would spend time at the rectory taking care of him, I would fall asleep on the floor at the foot of his La-Z-Boy armchair. I had no complaints about the stiff floor and never needed a pillow to fall asleep; all I needed for comfort was knowing that I got to hang out with Father Louie while he said his prayers.
Once I began going to school, I stopped visiting as often as I used to. That was until Cathy called me one day and asked if I wanted to join Father Louie’s First Communion class. At this point, I had no real affiliation to the church other than my relationship with Cathy and Father Louie, so I said yes to attending the class as an excuse to revisit them every Sunday, just like I used to.
I remember being nervous about attending the course for some reason. Maybe it was that I had no idea what to expect, or it could have been nerves about taking a significant step in a religion I had forgotten many things about. Whatever the reason, it washed away the moment I saw Father Louie’s smile. He looked at me and said, “Vincent! Have you been working on becoming a great saint?” That greeting was a variation of one of his favorite quotes, “Don’t become a saint, but a great saint!”
Attending Father Louie’s class was one of the best decisions I could have ever made. I fell in love with how he explained the complex theological topics that St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Augustine created. He made you want to learn more about the faith rather than scolding you for not knowing.
After I made my Communion, I began going to church every Sunday with Cathy, and each Sunday, I would visit Father Louie with her. He would always ask about my possible sainthood, how my mom and dad were doing, and how school was going. He even came to my high school graduation to watch me receive my diploma, despite being in a wheelchair. He was a man who genuinely cared about the lives of his congregation, and he made it known every time you saw him. “I am praying for you, Vincent,” or “God loves you,” he would say as I bid him farewell every Sunday
He made you want to learn more about the faith rather than scolding you for not knowing.
evening.
He wanted you to remember that he genuinely cared about the outcome of your soul. Over time, my visits with Father Louie became less about him teaching me the faith and more about spending time with a very dear friend.
I last visited Father Louie about a week before he passed away on March 2. He was lying in bed after finishing his rosary, barely strong enough to speak. At his request, I passed him a Modelo, and as I was getting ready to leave he softly repeated his famous line, “Vincent, become a great saint.”
Those were the last words he said to me.