The sound of laughter of hundreds of children playing in the sun-baked grounds during their summer holidays echoes off the bastions, permeating through the corridors of a Cospicua school.

In stark contrast, further up the road, a century of history stands quietly at the door.

Bro. Edward Galea, who turns 100 on Saturday, offers a gentle handshake.

“I would like the interview to take place at the chapel, next to the statue of our founder,” he instructs.

As we walk some 200 metres from the brothers’ house to the chapel, Galea keeps the pace, his steps quick and determined, seemingly unburdened by the weight of a long life.

The hallways of the school, which hosts around 1,400 students every year, are lined with photos, memorabilia and anecdotes in tribute to past De Le Salle brothers, the Catholic religious teaching congregation.

On the way to the chapel, Galea makes a detour to another room to wear the brothers’ traditional black cassock with the long white Roman collar.

“Moving around gives me peace of mind to remain physically fit and continue my work,” he says, climbing the steep steps used by generations of students.

The chapel is a quiet sanctuary where the brother seems most at ease, his presence filling the space with a sense of calm and purpose.

I remind him that I was a De La Salle student in the 1970s and 1980s.

He smiles, admitting with a twinkle in his eye, “I often tell old students I remember them, but it’s a little fib. The truth is, I’ve changed so much, and the students themselves looked different 40 or 50 years ago. So, forgive me if I don’t remember you.”

On the cusp of a significant milestone, Galea is asked whether he ever believed he would be so lucid, giving an interview to a journalist.

His reply is a humble testament to his strong faith:

“I ask Jesus: Why did you take Brother Louis? Why did you take Brother Norbert? Because they were better than I, much better. He left me here. Do you want more and more from me? I’m ready to accept whatever.”

He acknowledges his relatively fine health, except for the few pills he takes every day.

“I can walk. This is my vocation. And I want to continue until the last minute, I hope I will be able to come to school up to the very, very, very end.”

Bro. Edward attributes his longevity not to lifestyle choices but to divine will. God features prominently in the conversation:

“This is God’s will. I accept it and am grateful for each day. I have enjoyed the community. I say to God, ‘I accept your plan’. This is a promise.

“There might come a time when perhaps, it could be difficult and I will suffer. But I accept things the way they are. I’m surprised God has given me so much when people better than me left this world for the better home. God, thank you. I am here at your disposal.”

Oh brothers, where art thou?

As we settle into our conversation, Bro. Edward’s demeanour shifts, his mind turning to a topic that clearly weighs heavily on him: the disappearance of vocations.

Aware he is among the last of his generation of De La Salle brothers – with only a handful remaining in Malta – Bro. Edward is deeply concerned about the future of their mission. The brothers’ schools – De La Salle College, opened in 1903, and Stella Maris College, opened in 1904 – are now run by lay teachers.

Brother Edward, top right, during his studies in France.

“Seeing a brother means there’s a contact… but if I’m the only one around the school, how can our students feel close to vocations? They will say, ‘Is that all?’ They don’t know about the brothers who left or died.”

He suggests bringing De La Salle brothers from overseas to serve temporarily in Malta, allowing students to experience the presence and influence of the brothers firsthand.

Asked whether he agrees with Archbishop Charles Scicluna’s suggestion to allow priests to marry, Galea hesitates before responding.

“That would involve two sacraments – a priest becoming a father. Is it really God’s will, or just a response to necessity? In our institute – and I’m personally against it – the superiors emphasise the formation of lay people more than that of the brothers. What would St John Baptist De La Salle do in this situation? We have excellent teachers, but when they go home, they return to their own vocation: their family. Honestly, I’m not sure what the right answer is.”

Despite his age, Bro. Edward still dabbles with teaching.

Every weekday, he joins the students for morning prayers, and then explains the Gospel to the younger students.

“On Sundays, the priests usually talk to parents, not to the boys. But I make sure they understand what the Gospel means for them.”

On some days, he even replaces teachers who are indisposed.

Fleeing the Nazis

Bro. Edward’s life has not been without hardship. In May 1939, he left for France to pursue his religious studies, together with two other young Maltese men, Louis and Norbert. They began studying in earnest, but the Nazi occupation of France meant it was going to be an uphill struggle.

As World War II intensified, one morning, three German officers came knocking at the door of the school where he was staying. They were searching for Edward, Louis and Norbert, who held British passports.

Brother Edward as a student.

The young Egyptian brother who welcomed the soldiers at the door was terrified at the sight of the Nazi soldiers.

“What can I do for you, gentlemen?” he asked.

“We want to see your director,” the soldiers ordered.

The quick-thinking director managed to convince the officers that the British students had already left.

“Oh, I’m sorry, gentlemen. These three people were here. But they left some time ago,” the director lied.

Bro. Edward believes it was a miracle. But immediately after, the students were instructed to pack their bags and leave, aware that next time the Nazis would probably search the building.

The students separated. Norbert and Lewis went to Lyon, Edward sought refuge in a school close to Lourdes.

The war years were difficult; at one point, the novices had no choice but to grow their own food, and two students even died of hunger, he recalls.

“The director made it a point that every Saturday we would try to find some relief from the horrors around us. We used to go out into the mountains for four hours just to escape the war’s ugliness. We knew nothing about what was happening to our families back home, even our own country.”

Young Edward would constantly hear the drone of American bombers overhead, a reminder of the war’s proximity, until the Allies eventually liberated France. He was determined to continue his mission in Malta.

Reflecting on the current global climate, where far-right and neo-Nazi ideologies are resurging, Bro. Edward is disheartened. “We continue with this hatred now. What’s wrong with us? There is trouble everywhere. I always say in my prayers, ‘Jesus, don’t you hear us? When are you going to bring peace so we can live together?’ But it seems we cannot. It’s a question of politics, of power. I don’t think it’s a question of religion.”

He suggests that Pope Francis lives up to his message of peace and visits the Middle East to see the ongoing horrors firsthand.

“Even if there is danger, go. This is what Jesus did. There was enough trouble in his time, but he lived and led by example.”

‘What did you learn today?’

Bro. Edward has seen generations of students walk through the school gates in the past decades, but sounds exasperated over the state of education, especially in the context of changing family dynamics.

He believes the lack of family involvement is part of a larger issue where children’s religious and moral education is being neglected. Most students today have packed schedules, leaving them with no free time.

He stresses the importance for teachers and school leaders to regularly meet with students’ parents face-to-face.

“When you were a student here, I remember, we went home and mothers would ask, ‘What did you learn today? Show me your homework.’ But now, parents prioritise work to provide for their families. It’s not about what their children are learning, but about earning enough money. Many boys go home to an empty house because both parents are working.

“I tell parents, ‘Please don’t forget the most important people in your life are your children.’ We need to meet the parents more often in school and explain to them our vocation, and our need to educate not just the mind but the soul first. That’s what our founder insisted on.”

‘I did my best’

He dodges the question of whether he is afraid of death.

“Some saints pray to die when they feel the end is near. They say, ‘Please God, take me. I have done so much for you, now give me my reward.’ Others are afraid to die because, although they know God is good and they have done so much for him, they are still fearful of what comes next.”

Asked which type of saint he associates himself with, he replies cryptically, “I can only say, ‘Jesus, I did my best. I tried to please you till the end.’”

Brother Edward being given the national award by President George Vella in 2022.

As we wrap up the interview, Bro. Edward reflects on his greatest successes and regrets. “My best years were when I taught geography in fifth form. I spent a year in the UK to gain some experience, and for me, teaching was the most important thing. To this day, I still offer my services to replace teachers when needed.

“Again, my biggest regret is seeing the lack of vocations. The school changes every year, with new people coming in. I regret that we are not enough brothers to continue running our schools.”

Despite the dwindling numbers of brothers, the loss of vocations and his old age, Bro Edward remains determined in his mission. He imparts advice to his students: “I believe God gives you a vocation before you are born. You might go to a hospital and hear someone complaining about the wait. Maybe God wants you to become a doctor.”

As we leave the chapel, Bro. Edward poses proudly for a picture in front of the college gate, and jokingly ruffles a child’s hair on his way to the residence.

Back at the brothers’ residence, he sinks into his sofa and indulges in sugary soft drinks and crisps.

When I express the hope of interviewing him again when he turns 110, he lets out a hearty laugh.

“God willing. God willing.”

An event will be held at De La Salle College to celebrate Brother Edward’s centenary on his birthday on August 17. For details go to https://ticketwave.mt/bro-edward-fsc---100th-birthday-celebrations