Father Donato was born on April 12, 1915, the son of Salvatore Sergi and Teresa Bisanti, in Gagliano del Capo (LC). He was already a high-school student when he entered the Institute in 1934. He completed his studies at the Motherhouse in Turin and at the Certosa di Pesio. In 1937 he consecrated himself to the Lord with religious profession and in 1941 he was ordained to the priesthood.
During the war (1941-1945) he worked in the Vittorio Veneto minor seminary teaching Italian, Latin, mathematics and geometry. In 1946 he left for Mozambique and remained there for fourteen years until 1960. He was then sent to Unango and then Marrere where his first work was teaching. On July 26, 1947 he wrote the following words to the clerical students at the Motherhouse: "Through no merit of my own I have become a "university professor." My subjects: Latin to seminarians … not too bad - I've already done this in Italy … religion - this isn't too hard either, I can always do a little catechism. Mathematics and geometry … here we are really getting into an area of struggle and heroism. So having left Italy, spent months at sea and arriving in this land of infidels I end up doing the same thing I did at home: the same old work - and since you were interested in hearing everything - the same schedule. There is only one small difference: supper is at 7:30 PM instead of 8:00 PM!"
He found school work somewhat confining and was eager to engage in a more extended and direct apostolate with the people. Father Sergi loved to be among people and he plunged into his work enthusiastically if a little hesitantly. In a splendid letter he wrote to the clerical students in Turin (September 12, 1947) he describes his method of working: "On Thursday mornings I set out with Eugenio, my interpreter, to make my rounds. I usually have one or two of the villages assigned to me as the goal. I confess that the first times I left home and took to the road - or rather path - I felt a certain holy pride and joy. I'm off … but to what people? … what difficulties will I meet? … what means shall I employ?
"First of all there is the difficulty of the language - the Scyao language is so very difficult and I understand so little, almost nothing. All the same I have to start somewhere. I try very hard to remember the greeting: quam-bone. This can be used at any time of day, to any class of person and in all circumstances. After that I have to leave everything to the interpreter, Eugenio.
"What means to employ? Above all, the Lord and prayer. But here I must confess that I am not strictly following the Gospel Jesus said we must go off on our missionary journeys leaving our purse and staff at home. I am not traveling empty-handed; the sisters gave me three bags for my journey - one of peanuts, one of salt and one of sugar. If I can't draw people to me and make myself understood with words - these three items will do the trick.
"It wasn't too long before Father Ferrero wrote and told me to be careful I didn't carry out an apostolate of gifts - this wood be pointless and helpless. The natives would only be interested in my gifts; once the gifts stopped they would lose interest. We must draw them and arouse their interest by our concern for their affairs and their families. This is really the case. It would be unfortunate to waste time with gifts. For the time being - since I am new at this, and since these are my first ventures will have to use the gifts.
"To what people am I going? People who are Muslims and who are suspicious. The first time we set out on one of these journeys I asked Eugenio if people would be offended if we entered their villages. He said, 'No, not with the Fathers. With other white people, yes. But the Fathers have never done them any harm.'
"When we come to a village most of the huts are shut. Most people have gone off to the fields. The first person we meet is a woman with a baby in her arms and a young girl of about fifteen. I spurt out my much practiced 'Quam-bone!' To which they reply a long drawn-out 'Ehhh…' (Thank you). I approach and speak while Eugenio translates. The baby hold on to his mother tightly and buries his face in her shoulder and cries. My hand goes to the bag of sugar. The girl goes into the hut and comes out with a basket of fruit from the forest - a sort of wild plum. We taste the fruit …
"It shows the woman's good will and it encourages me. Further on there are two people chatting. 'Quam-bone', 'Ehh …' I spend some time with them. The older of the two asks me for some salt. The other man doesn't stoop to such indignities, but is happy all the same when I give him some salt too. I chat a bit with the first man who is talkative. I note that he is very old - but don't worry I tell him, in heaven he will be young again. The old man laughs and asks me if I will give him some salt if he comes to the mission. Yes, I answer, but only if you come to the mission. How is it that you've never come before? 'Well, I'm old,' he answers, 'and have to walk with a stick. Do you want to see?' and he began to walk back and forth like a sentry - although bent over. 'Bravo! You must have been a handsome man when you were young.' In his old-fashioned garments he looked like an ancient, legendary king. Our little comedy came to an end and I bid them both farewell.
"I continued with my visit. Some children saw me from afar and ran away to hide. Their parents - that is their mothers - started to laugh. A few of the bolder children stayed to meet the enemy head on. When they saw that I was coming directly towards them, laughing and calling out to them, their resolve melted - they turned and ran away shouting. When they saw I had sugar, peanuts and salt they came back and gathered around me - friends. When it was time to leave they followed after me in a group joking and laughing. This happened over and over - especially in those first days.
"And religion? I didn't even mention it. To bring it up now would have been a mistake. It would have offended them, created a barrier and served no purpose. The natives would have proffered their usual response: 'I already have a religion … it is the power of God that keeps me … if God wills it I will convert …' This is their customary response, even if at certain points they may say 'Father, you're right.'
"In the long run what was the apostolate I was engaged in? … to chat and laugh with the natives … could this silly waste of time be called an apostolate? These thoughts were bothering me when I got home. I asked Sister Amabile what she thought. She was a veteran who knew and loved these people the way a miser loves gold. 'What do you do when you visit a village?' she asked me. I described my usual activity and asked if she thought it worth the effort. 'It's the same thing I do,' she answered. 'And you can't really do much more. You go there, chat, ask questions, laugh even when you don't feel like it … For the time being all you can do is make friends with these people'. Deo Gratias, I thought - God will work in His own good time."
In 1951 Father Sergi stopped teaching and began full-time pastoral work in the missions of Mitúcue, Maiaca Manor and Mana Mitúcue. It was a Moslem world - totally unreceptive to the Christian message. All the same his unfeigned and simple friendship, his generosity to all in need endeared him to these followers of Mohammed.
In a letter to the clerical students in Turin he revealed the secret of what sustained him and made his apostolate successful. "If you want your enthusiasm to last more than a day - a straw fire that burns out - you must begin to practice immediately with sincerity and conviction two virtues: humility and obedience. More especially humility. We must follow the teaching of the Gospel: after we have worked really hard we must have the grace to say - 'we are useless servants.'
"Then dear clerics, when you like me - I won't say gray-haired - but are bald! When you have left Italy, have traveled across the sea for many days, you will begin to understand what I am only now learning: how very important it is to be humble and obedient if you want to get anything done in this world." (Unango, June 26, 1947).
In 1960 he was sent to Portugal. He worked as the assistant Pastor in the Campolide (Lisbon) parish. After less than a year he had another opportunity to practice that blind obedience that was his hallmark. He was sent to Fátima to be the superior of the seminary. He wrote the following words to Father Domenico Fiorina, the Superior General: "The way in which I was called seemed to reveal the Will of God to me - I wouldn't dream of refusing for reasons of my own convenience, but it is painful to leave Campolide. I was just getting to know my dear parishioners, who were like a family to me …" (Fátima, July 27, 1961).
Father Donato was an example of humility and fraternity to the community he had been called to lead. "Once in office I couldn't promise any special qualities vis-à-vis my confrères. I could only present my self as I am and assure them of my good will. Thank God! I must confess that I found the community very well disposed towards me. They were welcoming, understanding and eager to help me - for these reasons I have not been afraid to take on this task… In conclusion let me assure you I will do all I can to deserve the affection and respect of my confrères: this is my duty and the first and best pre-condition for good work and building the Kingdom of God." (ibid.)
In 1963 Father Sergi sadly asked the Superior General for permission to go back to the missions. "Yes, I am willing to go back to the missions, and would return happily. God, my confrères and souls should have a right to expect this of me. I hope that you will feel absolutely free to send me back to the missions without any human considerations - as if I had never been in Italy or Lisbon …" But God disposes things differently. He was sent to Ermesinde to be the superior of the seminary (1963 - 1968). Father Jaime Marques wrote about his work there, "Along with his calm, simplicity and cheerfulness, I especially remember his devotion to the seminaries. He felt obliged to find the means to support dozens of seminarians. Those were hard times in general and for our work in particular. Father Sergi was willing to make any sacrifice. At the beginning of the week he would set off in his old car and travel the streets of Ribatejo and Alentejo where he had many acquaintances who, he hoped, would be generous. He spread the knowledge of our Institute and found new benefactors going from door to door. at the end of the week he would come back to Fátima with a car full of things and with a host of pledges. How many miles he covered! How many sacrifices he made! When he was working in the north - at Ermesinde - he did the same things. Father Sergi was a faithful servant of the missions; he dedicated himself heart and soul to formation and to helping future missionaries. May the Lord reward you, Father Sergi. For this alone you deserve the missionaries' reward."
From 1968 to 1974 he was the Pastor of Serafina and then from 1974 until his death he was a chaplain in the Campolide (Lisbon) parish and worked in the hospice for the aged.
On October 15, 2001, he suffered a heart attack with breathing complications, and was taken to the hospital. His condition did not improve and like a flickering candle he gradually passed away. On November 13 he went to Our Father's House. He died peacefully and left all of us an example of fidelity to our vocation, good humor, devotion and integrity.
His funeral was held on the fifteenth; after Mass the fifteen concelebrants accompanied his old friend, Father Miguel - the former Pastor of Campolide - to the hospice for the aged for a memorial service. The funeral cortège then went to Fátima. Another memorial service was held in the seminary chapel - Father Luis Tomás, the Regional Superior, presided. Priests, religious and some two hundred others took part in this service. Dom Tomás da Silva Nunes, the auxiliary bishop of Lisbon and an old friend of Father Donato, preached the homily. "Today is the feast of St. Albert the Great," he said "who was outstanding for two virtues: faith and wisdom. We see these virtues reflected in Father Sergi's life: he served God without ever losing touch with man." At the end of the service Father Sergi's mortal remains were interred in the Fátima cemetery - in that section devoted to our missionaries.
Da Casa Madre editors

TESTIMONIALS

A young heart
For us, the Sisters of the Poor, Father Donato Sergi was a genuine priest. He was always available for everyone and every thing. Even if he was 86 years old, he had the heart of a young man. His smile, his words of comfort, his good humor helped many of the old people in this house; some of them he led back to God.
Sister Celeste

A full-time priest
To be a full-time priest was his ideal. He spent himself in services, confessions, funerals, benedictions and visits to the sick. The parish of St. Vincent De Paul owes him a lot. In Campolide there is not a single person who does now know Father Sergi. They met him in the street, in his car, while he was visiting the sick, in a store or when he went from parish to parish to help his colleagues.
Father Francisco Pereira Crespo

Consoler of the afflicted
Father Sergi had special affection for the sick. If they called him during dinner he would get up and go immediately. Many were those who sought after him. Many - including priests - came to him for advice. He knew how to comfort the suffering, to improve their morale and give them courage. They even sought him out on the telephone looking for advice and comfort.
Father Natale Villanova

Simple and likable
I knew Father Sergi in 1933 when he was studying theology in Turin. He was a likable young man whose witty remarks endeared him to all. He was a man of faith and prayer; he had a great devotion to the Blessed Sacrament and to Our Lady, the Consolata. On November 19, 2001 he called me on the telephone and asked me to come and visit him. His words were, "Father, I'm dying. Please come and help me prepare for death."
Father Giuseppe Zintu

A friend to the end
During the trip I made with Father Sergi to Mozambique, he was always very cheerful. He was sociable and brotherly. He was always a close friend. He shared confidences with me and displayed a genuine missionary spirit. Years later when I spent some time at the Águas Santas seminary his company was a real pleasure. I saw the sacrifices he made for that community.
Father Giuseppe Bottacin

A man of great simplicity and experience
Father Sergi made an enormous impression on me. I was with him at the very beginning of my service as a priest and a missionary in the seminary of Ermesinde from 1964 to 1967. He was a man of great simplicity, but at the same time intelligent and insightful. He was very patient with me - I was so young and inexperienced. Unfortunately I was unable to profit all I could from his wisdom and experience as a priest and a missionary. His charm and good will made our relationship pleasant - he could win over anyone. I have fond memories of him. May he rest in peace.
Father Norberto Louro