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96 pages

English

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Publié par	St. Benedict Press LLC
Date de parution	28 juillet 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781505123210
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0000€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

The Story of Saint Padre Pio
Phillip Campbell
TAN Books Gastonia, North Carolina
Wounds of Love: The Story of Saint Padre Pio © 2022 Phillip Campbell
All rights reserved. With the exception of short excerpts used in critical review, no part of this work may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in any form whatsoever, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Creation, exploitation, and distribution of any unauthorized editions of this work, in any format in existence now or in the future—including but not limited to text, audio, and video—is prohibited without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are from the Revised Standard Version of the Bible—Second Catholic Edition (Ignatius Edition), copyright © 2006 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Cover design by David Ferris— www.davidferrisdesign.com .
Cover image by Jim Starr.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022937734
ISBN: 978-1-5051-2319-7 Kindle ISBN: 978-1-5051-2320-3 ePUB ISBN: 978-1-5051-2321-0
Published in the United States by TAN Books PO Box 269 Gastonia, NC 28053
www.TANBooks.com
To my son Phillip on the occasion of his confirmation
Contents
Preface
Chapter 1 The House of Forgione
Chapter 2 The True Battle
Chapter 3 Too Much to Leave You that Way
Chapter 4 On the Threshold of Two Worlds
Chapter 5 “This Is What I Was Made For”
Chapter 6 Wounds of Love
Chapter 7 Drowning in Glory
Chapter 8 Poked, Prodded, and Gawked At
Chapter 9 Mammella!
Chapter 10 Suffering Relieved
Chapter 11 Peace Amidst Suffering
Chapter 12 Every Man Alone with God
Chapter 13 The Embroidery of Life
Afterword
Preface
Y OU ARE ABOUT to read about one of the most fascinating saints of modern times, the great Saint Padre Pio of Pietrelcina.
Writing a book on the life of a saint like Padre Pio is extremely challenging. When I started the research for this book, I was overwhelmed by all the information I found. Saint Pio was involved in so many different things: his vocation as a priest, confessor, and spiritual director that changed the lives of thousands; his work founding the great hospital Casa Sollievo della Sofferenza; the troubles he continually had with Rome; the spiritual struggles and suffering he endured relating to the stigmata; the foundation of international “Padre Pio Prayer Groups”; his miracles, his battles with the devil, his personal life with family and friends, and his monastic observance as a Capuchin friar. There was so much the man accomplished!
It soon became clear that a traditional biography would not be possible—there were just too many things to include in a book this size! I ended up having to pick and choose what aspects of Saint Pio’s life to incorporate. I was able to include a little bit of everything, but I also had to leave out a lot. So, please don’t be sad if your favorite Padre Pio story didn’t make it in!
As you read, remember this book is not a biography of Saint Padre Pio; it is historical fiction based on his life. Historical fiction is a funny phrase—”historical” and “fiction” seem to be contradictory words. What does the phrase mean? Well, first you should know that all the stories told in this book truly happened: Pio really took a little girl’s ribbon and cut it up when he was a boy; he was truly seen in the sky by US pilots during World War II; he really exorcised a screaming woman in church, using the Blessed Sacrament. Yet to tell these stories, I had to use my imagination to fill in the gaps describing how they happened. A lot of names of random friars are made up, and most of the conversations are imagined, though whenever possible, I used Padre Pio’s actual words as found in his letters and the stories written about him. The compilation of essays on Pio published by the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate under the title Padre Pio: The Wonder Worker was most helpful.
Also, some of the details about Pio’s life have been rearranged. For example, the dream narrated in chapter 2 when Pio was eight years old actually happened when he was fourteen. The exorcism depicted in chapter 13 when Pio was elderly really happened twenty years earlier. I wrote that Padre Pio came up with the idea for his hospital during his first suspension, but he really came up with it much earlier. This rearrangement was necessary to take all the different aspects of Padre Pio’s marvelous life and help them flow better as a story told in book form.
So, while this book is faithful to the life of Padre Pio, it is not a “history book”; this should not be used as a source or reference for Pio’s life. I do, however, hope it inspires you to greater devotion to this amazing saint. In an age that was increasingly becoming enamored with modern thinking and modern technology, Saint Padre Pio served as a “sign of contradiction” (cf. Lk 2:34) reminding the world that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.
CHAPTER 1
The House of Forgione
“C HE SOLE !” exclaimed Grazio. “What a fierce sun! Time for a break.”
He leaned upon his scythe and stood upright, hand on his waist, arching his sore back. He looked aloft at the endless blue sky and squinted at the sun. The afternoon heat in Campania could be relentless. Sweat drained down the peasant’s leathery cheeks.
Grazio produced a dingy handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow. He turned and looked at his son. “How are you holding up, Francesco?”
A young boy, no more than eight years of age, came trotting behind Grazio, dragging a jumbled ball of twine. He was panting heavily.
“That good, eh?” said Grazio with a smile. “Bundling grain is not easy, I know!”
“I’m … all right, Papa,” Francesco sighed, continuing to breathe heavy.
His father smiled. “You can’t fool your papa. Tell you what—how about we finish this row and then take a break?”
Francesco nodded dutifully. Grazio took up his scythe again and swung it before him in a broad arc, slicing a bundle of wheat. Francesco followed along behind with the twine, tying the bundle off and leaving it to sit for threshing.
Schlunk! Schlunk! went the sound of Grazio’s scythe each time it sliced through a cluster of wheat stalks. No sooner had Francesco knelt and tied off a bundle than his father had chopped two more. His bony fingers were aching and didn’t seem to work right, causing him to fall even further behind. Francesco grunted as he tied off yet another bundle, and a sweat droplet fell from the end of his nose.
Schlunk! Schlunk! Schlunk!
In a few minutes, Grazio had finished the row and flopped down in the tall grass beneath the shade of a venerable old ficus tree. He took a hunk of bread from his side pouch and gnawed on it, grinning at his son. Francesco continued to toil on the bundles his father left, hunched over, tying each one off as quickly as he could. Finally, he finished the row and hurled his aching body into the grass.
“Papa, we’ve been out here for seven hours already. Can we go back to Pietrelcina now?”
Grazio looked askance at his son. “I’m afraid not. We’ve got three hours of good daylight left. We’ve still got to finish a few more rows before we call it a day. You know better than to ask that.”
The boy’s countenance sank. “Yes, Papa. I’m sorry, Papa.” He rolled over in the grass.
“Francesco, my boy, what is the matter? It’s not like you to shirk from chores. You know very well the threshing starts next week.”
Francesco sat back up. “I know, Papa. I’m not shirking. It’s just that, well, since today is the eve of Pentecost, I was wondering if maybe we could go home early?”
Grazio wiped his brow again, pulled an apple from his pouch, and shined it on his pants. “Go home early, eh?” He produced a small knife and sliced the apple, tossing half to his son. “What’s on your mind, boy?”
“Well,” said Francesco, explaining as he crunched into the apple, “I know the feast day isn’t until tomorrow, but I thought we might use some extra time to prepare?”
“Prepare what? Your mother can handle the cooking well enough, and she has Felicita, and Michele is nearby if she needs help. I’m sure the Pentecost dinner will be fine without you.”
“No, I mean prepare my soul,” Francesco said quietly as he swallowed a big bite of apple.
Grazio stared at his son thoughtfully while chewing the apple. He blinked, swallowed his snack, and with a twinkle in his eyes, said, “Well, Pentecost is certainly an important feast. And one can never be too prepared for Holy Mass. That’s what Padre Vincenzo always says, yes?”
“Yes, Father, that’s what Padre always says.”
Juice dribbled down Grazio’s stubbly chin as he took another bite of the apple. “I suppose it’s all right,” he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Oh, really, Papa? We can go early?”
“Yes, yes,” answered Grazio, pitching the apple core, standing up, and brushing bits of the earth off his pants. “The bundling work will still be here come Monday. Our field isn’t going anywhere. But Francesco, listen, if we leave off today, I’m going to need extra help next week, understand?”
“Of course, Papa! I promise!”
Grazio tussled the boy’s hair. “You’re a fine lad. Let’s return home. Your mother and the others will be happy to see us.”
The farmer grabbed his scythe and slung it over his shoulder. Francesco took up his twine and followed.

The town of Pietrelcina was a half-hour walk from the little piece of land worked by Grazio and his family. The way home followed an old country road, paved with flagstones and no wider than a horse cart. The road meandered up prominences and down steep ascents, passing through field and forest on its way to Pietrelcina. The air was cool where the trees provided pockets of dappled shade. Grazio whistled while they walked, his scythe slung over his shoulder. The day had been hard, but in moments like this, Francesco felt grateful for his father and their way of lif