The distress of his mother and her unshakable faith
(translated by Alessia Gioia, Napoli)
My sweet Jesus, I would like to rearrange my ideas before time effaces them, I’d like with
Your help to remember every Your single word, in order to reconstruct the plan that, for Your
goodness, you made me sense from the beginning, I’d like to tell everyone my painful but
marvellous adventure, that is not ended yet, but it unties and unravels, like a thread that seems
entangled, but that obeys the touch of Your Saint hand.
At the beginning of the disconcerting news: Nicola has a tumour, or rather before because
You, my Jesus, in Your provident love prepared the soul to the blow of the pain in order to
avoid it is submerged by the same one, You tell me: “If you could see the abyss that surrounds
yourself, you would be invaded by the terror, only I can make you cross that dark burrow and
bring you toward the light, if you will have as much faith as a grain of mustard.”
I ask my Jesus to take me by the hand, to cover my eyes so I don’t see that abyss and I am not
attracted by it, but feel only the hold of Your hand that drives me to the salvation. And He has
listened to my supplication.
The impact with such atrocious reality has been, I would say, by an irresponsible person, a
somnambulant that is preparing to cross the fire, but already knows to arrive unhurt to the
other bank. I had just one worry, to keep a staunch faith.
Jesus had warned me that many other souls would have seized on me, on my faith, but this
happened some time before, and, just later I understood to what He alluded.
A voice in my innermost part had revealed me that the hell was against me and my natural
disturbance, but another voice made echo: “But the whole Sky is with you”, and St. Michele:
“Who is more powerful than God if not the same God? “.
The struggle seemed terrible, but I felt strong in my faith. Jesus calls me back:
“Let your faith humble, because you would expose too much yourself to the attacks of the
The upsetting news followed one after the other, and also the decisions to be taken, the
urgency of the operation, to keep the truth from Nicola and Antonella, to verify if there was
metastasis; however, everything had taken as if an invisible hand drove every least action of
the tragedy, so the timeliness of the surgeon’s intervention and so many other favourable
My cry of pain and the invocation of help through friendly souls have been accepted and
propagated by many other generous souls; I could affirm that in a lot of regions of Italy
prayed for Nicola. It was an echo that propagated more and more far.
The communion of Saints was in action, with the power of its intercession; the help of nearer
souls to God supported me and comforted me: Maria Pia from Turin, Bianca from Florence,
Don Eugenio with his continuous Masses and, above all Don Gernio from Pescara:
“Madame will be the Madonna to drive the surgeon’s hand, everything will be all right, have
But who supported my faith, who comforted me, who was really nearby me, was Jesus.
My sleepless nights were an inexpressible torment, because my spirit embraced a truth even
more vast of that contingent, so much painful.
The devastated garden of my house, to which Jesus mentioned, appeared to me in all its
desolating rawness. My humanity, wound fatally, revealed to me in its entirety, causing
moments of inexpressible discouragement. Who had killed inside me the ability to love with my flesh, with the throb of my blood as all
the other men?
Who had torn from my heart all my creatures, lacerating the most intimate fibre of my being?
The enemy, certainly the enemy!
My distress was at the height, I felt destroyed under a weight bigger than me, I loved my
children with a spiritual love that had reached high top of purification and offering, but my
flesh kept silent; was I a monster perhaps?
But my Jesus, my usual Jesus, was more and more close to me:
“Not to fear, you are not a monster, also I have been wounded in my flesh, they have torn my
children one by one; you can see also my humanity is wounded like yours, so you are a victim
My Jesus, was not satisfied to get me away from the distress and so He compared me to
himself, united my suffering to His, I was a victim with my children, with my Nicola that was
going to offer himself on the operating table in order to be free by evil.
“On that operating table there is not only Nicola, but all your children; the surgeon is only a
tool, there is the Father that recreates, his Child that redeems, the Spirit that operates, and
Maria that consoles, protects, and intercedes.”
Jesus doesn’t abandon me; for a long time He announced in advance the necessary suffering
to save souls that were particularly dear for me, and I told Him that I would have succeeded
only if He had been close to me.
Jesus: “You think that I could not support my little grain of dust? “.
And then: “Not to forget that I am not only merciful, I am the Powerful person too.”