Roberto Allegri

translated by Martina Adani

© 2021 Ancora SRL

All rights reserved.

Published by The Word Among Us Press

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Originally published as I miei diletti figliuoli by Ancora Editrice in 2021.

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ISBN: 978-1-59325-561-9 eISBN: 978-1-59325-563-3

Unless otherwise noted, Scripture texts in this work are taken from the New American Bible, revised edition © 2010, 1991, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Washington, D.C., and are used by permission of the copyright owner. All rights reserved. No part of the New American Bible may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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Library of Congress Control Number: 2023906410

Introduction

Ihaveheard about Padre Pio ever since I was a child. My father, Renzo Allegri, who worked as a journalist, met him in 1967 on assignment as a special reporter for the Italian magazine Gente. It turned out to be a special encounter since, following that assignment, most of my father’s works have focused on that mysterious friar who lived in the Gargano area. I grew up listening to the stories my father told me about him. I remember that my father would always get emotional. Even today, when my father talks about Padre Pio, he has a special light on his face, like the light at dawn, full of promises and sweetness.

“I met Padre Pio in April 1967,” my father told me. “He was old and very sick. He died the following year. What impressed me the most were not the wonders he worked that people would talk. It was rather the strength released by his personality, a moral strength that was visible. I saw him walking towards me, bent in the hallway of the monastery. His feet must have felt like lead; he was limping and leaning on the walls so that he would not fall. It was sad to see him walking in those conditions. I could feel his sufferings; I could understand how deep his pain was. However, he did not complain. He was indeed willing to help those who needed it most. And then there was his gaze. When he raised his head and looked at you, his eyes were on fire. But at the same time, they were so full of kindness that they made you speechless.

I was in San Giovanni Rotondo for work, and I had my camera with me. When I was close enough to him, I took some pictures, but the flash blinded him. He shouted, ‘Stop it!’ The look on his face was scary. All he wanted was to pray and have a quiet existence. I had no idea that there were other people, such as interfering photographers, who were trying to find out rumors about his life. I said to him, ‘Father, I am just doing my job.’ All of a sudden, he was appeased, as if the wind had blown on his face, calming him down. He came close to me, leaned on me, and asked me to go with him. I was holding him up; I was carrying him. I realized how painful his feet must have felt. Some people said that he had developed stigmata on his feet, even though not many people knew about it. He was undoubtedly suffering. Padre Pio was a man who suffered tremendously, enduring his pain like a hero.

“A short time before meeting Padre Pio, I had met Fr. Mario Mason, a Jesuit who told me how, in 1959, Our Lady of Fatima had miraculously healed Padre Pio. Nowadays the episode is well-known, but back then no one knew about it. That year, Padre Pio was ill, and he had not left his cell for several months. At that time, the statue of Our Lady of Fatima was being carried on a pilgrimage, and it was taken to the most important Italian dioceses. The statue was carried to the monastery of San Giovanni Rotondo, where it was kept for two days thanks to some of Padre Pio’s friends. Despite his health issues, Padre Pio managed to pray in front of the statue, which was later helicoptered to its next destination. Padre Pio saw it through a window and said, ‘Madonnina, when you got here, I was sick. Now you are about to leave, and I am still sick . . . ’ Suddenly he started shaking. It looked like a current went straight through his body, and he was instantly healed. Fr. Mason had told me about that episode, and on that day in April, when I met Padre Pio, I wanted to ask him about it. As soon as I mentioned the episode, he burst into tears. He was sobbing like a child, and he mumbled ‘Yes, yes, I recovered thanks to Our Lady . . . !’ Later, the father superior of the monastery explained to me that each time Padre Pio tried to talk about his recovery, he would get emotional and cry, and be unable to finish his story.”

I guess Padre Pio and my father discussed other topics, but I never found out about them. It belongs to my father’s personal life, and I do not wish to cross the line. My father’s career focused on writings about Padre Pio. He published hundreds of articles and dozens of books. This shows that something must have happened during their meeting. As the next pages will demonstrate, all those who met Padre Pio were positively affected by him. My father kept saying that, despite his sufferings, Padre Pio was a role model when it came to optimism: he believed in the future. According to my father, “He was and keeps being a hopeful man. In spite of severe difficulties throughout his life, Padre Pio always infused people with love and trust. He never stopped; his faith was so solid. . . . He believed in progress, and the hospital conceived by him was, since its opening, ahead of its time. Above all, Padre Pio was the embodiment of God’s mercy. He was really affectionate, and he loved people. He used to cry with the desperate ones and laugh with those that were happy. Some people claim that his manners were abrupt. One day, one of his brothers, Fr. Pellegrino, complained about it. Padre Pio told him, ‘I act this way because I do not want emotions to overpower me. I am about to cry when I meet people who are suffering, and I would not be able to keep doing my job.’”

But what was it like to talk to Padre Pio? How did it feel when you looked in his eyes and when he looked back at you? How was his voice? And how did he use to pray? What was it like to watch him celebrating Mass while he was limping? What did his stigmata look like? And then, how was Padre Pio’s daily life in the monastery? What was his schedule? What did he like to eat and drink? Is it true that he liked tobacco?

These are some of the questions about Padre Pio that I have always asked myself. These questions are not related to my job as a journalist. Nor do I wish to explain his personality to readers because I believe it would be impossible to illustrate a saint. The reason behind these questions is that I feel envious of the people who had the privilege of meeting him and being close to him. This makes me ask these people: please, tell me all the details! The more details I have, the easier it is to envision Padre Pio next to me, here and now.

I have read many books about Padre Pio to find the answers to these questions. I especially enjoy reading the books that were published while he was still alive by people who were close to him and whose feelings were sincere. They are important books that convey the beauty of being in contact with a saint. They are brave books as well because back then, part of the Church opposed Padre Pio, and it was therefore risky to share certain opinions, especially if you were a religious person. However, his personality was too intense, and people could not be silenced. Many of them felt the urgency to share with the world the wonders they had witnessed and that were occurring thanks to that bearded friar who lived in the Gargano area.

Nevertheless, these books were not enough for me. Something was missing: it was the gaze and the voice of those who had met Padre Pio in person. It is different to perceive the excitement in the people’s voices, to listen to their memories, to see the trembling light in their eyes full of tears. It is different to feel the hands of the witnesses, clasping your arm while they tell you their stories because they want to assure you they are telling the truth, and they wish to instill their emotions in you. I was looking for these people: Padre Pio’s friends, the ones he talked with, those who held him up while he was walking. I was also looking for those individuals who had only met him once, but that meeting was enough to change them, to receive a gift, to be shaken.

Padre Pio died more than fifty years ago. Most of his friends are no longer with us. The people who met him or that simply attended his Mass are now old. We risk losing these precious experiences. We also risk losing that light in the gaze of these people, which shows the sweetness of the truth. These stories need to be kept and saved. I have been writing about Padre Pio for twenty years. I had the chance to talk to many people, and I have gathered together several stories. Most of these people have died, but I managed to listen to them in time. When it was not possible to talk with the witnesses, I spoke with their children or grandchildren, and I found out that their memories about Padre Pio were passed on within the family.

In the next pages, you will find what I was told by friends and brothers, relatives, men and women who had met Padre Pio when they were children growing up near the monastery, and also by doctors, artists, journalists, and pilgrims who came to San Giovanni Rotondo looking for consolation. Each one of them, as with an imaginary paintbrush, added a personal touch to the painting that portrays a great saint. They say, with their moved voices, “I met him.”