Pray, Hope, and Don't Worry!

When I was in high school I took a trip to Italy to visit my Nona, grandmother, before she died. Before leaving for the trip, I was given a book about Padre Pio to borrow from UF. He said something about us both being Italian and I was happy to read anything UF would give me. My father left for Italy a week before me and I was going to be flying international all alone. With a long flight and lots of alone time, I read most of the book on my journey. It was the first time I heard about Padre Pio and I found his life to be amazing. From the miracles, to fighting with the devil, to reading peoples' souls in confession, to praying the rosary and fasting almost unceasingly; what is a teenage boy not to like about such an extreme life style. He lived a challenging and obedient life. He lived a manly life. A life that was attractive to me.

On my way in an airport in Philadelphia praying the rosary (because it is what Padre Pio would have done) a man with a thick Italian accent, possibly drunk, came up to me and asked me if I was scared. I was a little taken back, mostly because I didn't expect anyone to talk to me. But I quickly said, "No, I am praying for my grandma." He went on and said something about saying, "Our Marys and Hail Fathers." What hit me at the time was that this man and many other people only pray when they are scared. When they are so desperate there is nothing left for them to do. Padre Pio was not a man who prayed out of fear. Was I scared?

When I got to Italy I felt as if I entered into Padre Pio land. There were statues and pictures of this guy everywhere. They truly loved him. I even received a really nice Padre Pio medal from my Godparents. Padre Pio really wanted me to know he was with me. His life comforted me as a spent time with my dying grandmother. He told me prayer was important and the suffering had meaning.

A few months ago my father was struck by a car well walking in a parking lot. His neck and arm are still in pretty bad shape and it will be along time before he can get back to work. On Father's day I found out my father, who rarely goes to church, read a large book filled with stories about those who encountered Padre Pio (a Christmas present I gave my mother). My dad told me that he wants to go visit his shrine next time he goes to Italy.

Padre Pio still works miracles.