St. Padre Pio to the rescue
PARIS – You may have noticed my absence on the PBA TV coverage lately. I’ve been away with family on a long-planned reunion overseas with my sisters who live in the US. This trip was nearly two years in the making and saving – it’s been well worth making the get-together happen.
Last week, we were in San Giovanni Rotondo, Italy, where St. Padre Pio’s mortal remains are exposed for public viewing and veneration. I am a St. Padre Pio devotee and pray his novena without fail every day. Two years ago, my wife Menchu and I visited St. Giovanni Rotondo for the first time. To get there, you take a three-hour train ride from Rome to Foggia then a one- hour bus trip to San Giovanni Rotondo where the Capuchin Friars arrived to spread the Gospel in St. Francis of Assisi’s name in 1540. A church was consecrated in 1676 and this was where St. Padre Pio, who joined the Capuchin Friars at the age of 15 and was ordained at 23, celebrated Mass from 1916 to 1959.
St. Padre Pio became the first stigmatized priest in Church history when the five wounds of Jesus’ Passion appeared on his body in 1918. Throughout his life, St. Padre Pio dedicated himself to an inspiring devotion to the Holy Eucharist and Blessed Virgin Mary. Miracles were documented and verified with his intercession. In 1968, St. Padre Pio passed away. In 1999, he was declared Blessed and in 2002, was proclaimed a Saint by Pope John Paul II. His body was exhumed in 2008 and remarkably, had not decomposed.
When we visited San Giovanni Rotondo two years ago, St. Padre Pio’s body was in a silver sarcophagus in a recessed portion of the so-called lower church. His body was not exposed. A corridor of mosaics on both walls depicting significant events in the lives of St. Francis and St. Padre Pio led visitors to the lower church. Devotees lined up to touch the sarcophagus or rub a handkerchief against it or throw a note with a petition near the tomb.
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On our second visit last week, we were surprised to see St. Padre Pio’s body exposed inside a glass case. Although he died 45 years ago, his face is unmarked, his white beard intact. It is a miracle that his dead body is untouched by the passage of time. How he looked on the day of his death is how he still looks today. His fingers, however, appear to be blackened, the result of being a stigmata. As a St. Padre Pio devotee, this was an unforgettable sight, an experience that will always be cherished.
Yesterday, we were in Paris. In the morning, we visited the Chapel of Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal where the intact body of St. Sister Catherine Laboure, who died in 1876, is in a reliquary under the altar. St. Sister Catherine was blessed with three apparitions by the Blessed Virgin Mary during her holy life.
At the Chapel, we met Sr. Clarita Cerilla, one of three Filipina Sisters of Charity in the congregation of about 130 in the Rue du Bac shrine. Sr. Cerilla became a nun at 27 and now 47, is on her first overseas mission after serving in 10 different communities in the Philippines. She is a native of Polanggi, Albay. Sr. Cerilla remembers the late Sr. Rosario (Nini) Ataviado, a directress of the Sisters of Charity assigned in Taiwan for several years before returning home to retirement.
While at the Chapel, we met three women from Capas, Tarlac – Josefina Cayanan, Vina Zarate and Querubina Castaneda. It was their first day in Paris and they immediately made their way to the Chapel. Ms. Cayanan works in the municipal registry office under Capas Mayor T. J. Rodriguez.
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That afternoon, I was nearly victimized by a group of three apparent gypsies in broad daylight on the busy streets of Boulevard Haussmann near the Galeries Lafayette. I walked ahead of Menchu, our daughter Cristina and her husband Mark as I looked out for a taxi cab at about 2:30 p.m. So it appeared that I was alone. A gypsy walked up to my left side and asked if I spoke English. I was warned about gypsies so I ignored her. She followed me, repeatedly asking if I spoke English. She had a piece of paper in her hand with signatures and what seemed to be pledges for money. I didn’t care to know what she was selling or advocating. I was wary of the gypsies’ tactics.
Suddenly, the gypsy woman flicked her hand on my left shirt pocket. I had my London travel pass, my Paris hotel room key and my St. Padre Pio four-page prayer leaflet in my pocket. Menchu, Cristina and Mark saw two other gypsies come close to me on my right side. The trick was to distract me. The gypsy on my left wanted me to pick up the spilled contents on the ground while the two others on my blind side would pick my pockets. One pocket had my passport and cellphone while the other, my wallet with Euros and English pounds. Menchu shouted, “Get away from him†and Cristina screamed, “Leave him.†I grabbed the paper from the gypsy’s hand and shouted, “Stay away!†The two other gypsies pulled back, now realizing I had companions. The three escaped into the crowd. I looked at what the gypsy flicked out of my pocket and there it was lying on the ground – the St. Padre Pio prayer leaflet with his face up, unruffled. My hotel room key and London travel pass were still safely in my pocket. It was like a reminder that as a St. Padre Pio devotee, I could rely on his intervention.
I survived a clear robbery attempt by a team of three gypsies on the streets of Paris and I’m sure it was St. Padre Pio who saved me.
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