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29 January 2017
Aravecchia of Vercelli
Forgive me if to speak of Don Luigi will have to memorize options fish in very personal memories: the rest of ours was a strange relationship: as between two artists, as between two souls who feel much affinity & agrave;.
I met our dear Luigione a winter evening of long ago. I had come to him to seek help for a friend in trouble & agrave;. It was so long since I heard about this strange priest, but I hesitated to meet him. His, invece, He said he had long wanted to meet me: I was waiting.
That evening my friend in trouble & agrave; almost did not talk (it was as if Don Luis knew it was useless for him to take action. And he was right!)
We talked, invece, project that he had for me about the Chapel of Curino.
E' cos & igrave; who was born our beautiful friendship and later experienced a nearly daily attendance for a while' of years. Here in Vercelli, where I often spent to take it, but especially in Curino, where we went together almost every day from spring to summer.
I must say that before then it had never happened – and so far I do not & egrave; pi & ugrave; success – to know a man from the heart cos & igrave; extensive, from the mind cos & igrave; open, from the soul so brave. In love with Beauty, employed full-time to work for the common good.
Impervious to criticism, the malevolence, to slander (that never fail), incurred to memorize options by so many friends and collaborators, also by benefactors.
He worked tirelessly to invent occupations, occasions, possibility & agrave; living. He worked for a pi & ugrave world; right.
Its constant attention to the poor, the last, disadvantaged, the suffering of all evil was an attitude of true service and not comfortable: una'ttitudine who occupied day and night, tirelessly ever.
As the Good Shepherd of the Gospel was ready to give his life for his flock. And leave the ninety-nine sheep safely home to go in search of that one that was lost. Since he had not loaded on his shoulders and returned to safe no rest gave.
Luigi was a practical and concrete man as the one-time farming, solid as those who know how to have built his house on the Rock, tender as a caring and wise mother.
He saw far. But he could also look inside. Into things, but above all within the heart of each.
As a good father of the family memories that put her children at the table and served them. He called them just cos & igrave;: & Quot; I put the children & quot;. Then when all were eating, only then he sat and consumed what was left.
After work every day he says the s & eacute; that the servant of the Gospel says: & Quot; I'm just a useless servant. I did what I & egrave; He was ordered & quot;.
Luigi was a resourceful and ingenious person: he saw over. It sowed Beauty everywhere around s & eacute;. It was his way to collaborate with the Creator's Work: treat the earth as if it were a garden, care for the animals, riadattava old homes to make them hospitable, open to all. And he taught to do the same.
He was a priest? And. But it was much more & ugrave;: He was a man. And I do not think I exaggerate when I say that it was also a Saint. Certainly not a saint by calendar or lit candles. A weekday saint: one of those who & quot; believe" really, & Quot; operating" really, "amano" really. One of those who make their life a gift for the Lord, a gift for the brothers. In silence. With their total dedication.
Let me conclude my memories giving you the confidence of a secret.
One day, while I was painting the facade of the Chapel of Curino, the Luigione approaches, takes me by the arm to pull me aside and quietly asked me to promise not to tell anyone what was going to tell me.
It was strangely pale, but the face was beaming: He could see he was deeply disturbed.
He told me: & Quot; I know that this morning I had a true vision? I have seen the Lord. She coming towards me and you & egrave; He stopped in front of me. I saw him as I see you now, so much so that I could touch it. I spoke, but I do not remember pi & ugrave; exactly what to say to me why & egrave; I was as immersed in his face. I just remember that he told me that soon die memorize options. But he left me in the heart a peace that does not know you describe. Believe me: It was not a daydream and even hallucination. It was a real presence, real & quot;.
Because I know that Louis was not the kind of nonsense that lives and that ciurlava in the handle, and it was not n & egrave; a sucker n & egrave; an imposter… I believed him.
He had really seen. And that vision had shaken him and at the same time comforted.
I kept to myself that if his secret and now I feel released from the promise made to him & egrave; only to testify to the straordinariet & agrave; of that man that we all have had the good fortune to meet, to know and to attend.
For the life we have left to live we treasure of his many teachings. Do not let go completely lost his precious legacy & agrave;.