15/09/2026
‘She Will Come to You’: How the Blessed Mother Entrusted an Unborn Child to Padre Pio
“𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯, 𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘓𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺.”
When I think about all the graces Our Lord granted through Padre Pio’s intercession, there is one story that shines above the rest. Truly, it is his miracle, one that began even before he was ordained, and one that shows how deeply the Blessed Mother entrusted souls into his care.
It was January 18, 1905. Padre Pio was not yet a priest, not yet the renowned friar with the stigmata and countless spiritual children.
He was only a young Capuchin seminarian, Fra Pio, quiet, studious, faithful in prayer. That evening, he was kneeling in the monastery choir alongside Brother Anastasio. It was close to 11:00; the monastery hushed in silence.
Then, without warning, the young friar was carried up in spirit, transported far from the stone walls around him.
He later described the experience in simple words: He found himself in the palace of a wealthy family, where the master of the house lay dying as his wife labored to bring forth a child. In that vision, the Blessed Mother herself appeared before him.
“𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘢𝘸𝘯, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯.”
With maternal gentleness, the Blessed Mother turned to Fra Pio and entrusted him with a mission that would last a lifetime.
“𝘔𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘯,” 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘫𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘭, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮. 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯.”
The Blessed Mother’s answer was firm, yet full of tenderness:
“𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘮𝘦. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘗𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘦.”
In the next instant, Fra Pio was once again in the choir stall, his hands folded in prayer, as if nothing had happened. Yet everything had changed.
That very night, in the northern city of Udine, Giovanna Rizzani was born.
Her entry into the world was marked by drama and sorrow. Her father, a wealthy Mason, lay upstairs at death’s door. Her mother, Leonilde, gave birth prematurely in the palace garden, aided only by the steward. But Heaven intervened: A priest was permitted to baptize the fragile infant. In reality, he heard the Confession of Giovanna’s father, who died reconciled with God.
Thus, both birth and death were intertwined in that moment, and Heaven had already written Giovanna’s life into the story of Padre Pio.
The following year, in 1923, Giovanna traveled with her aunt to San Giovanni Rotondo, the remote mountain town where Padre Pio lived.
The monastery corridor was crowded with pilgrims when suddenly Padre Pio stopped. His penetrating gaze fell upon Giovanna. With words that struck her like lightning, he said:
“𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥.”
The next morning, she went to Confession. Before she could speak, Padre Pio greeted her tenderly: “My daughter, finally you have come! I have been waiting for you so many years.”
“But Father,” she whispered, “this is the first time I have ever met you.”
He smiled gently.
“𝘕𝘰, 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘚𝘵. 𝘗𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢? 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘦.”
Then he revealed the secret of the Blessed Mother’s words:
“𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯, 𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘓𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺.”
From that day on, Giovanna became one of his most faithful spiritual daughters.
Later, Padre Pio invested her in the Third Order of St. Francis. To her surprise, he chose for her the name Jacopa.
Padre Pio shook his head.
“𝘕𝘰. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘢. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘢 𝘥𝘦 𝘚𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘵. 𝘍𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩.”
Years passed. Giovanna, now Sr. Jacopa, remained steadfast under Padre Pio’s direction. Near the end of his life, he spoke to her with urgency.
“𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘚𝘢𝘯 𝘎𝘪𝘰𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪 𝘙𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦.”
On September 23, 1968, as Padre Pio entered eternal life, Sr. Jacopa experienced a vision.
She was transported mystically to his cell. She saw the friars around his bed. She witnessed the exact moment of his passing, though she had never entered his room before. Later, she described every detail, the arrangement of the room, the faces of those present. All was confirmed true.
Just as Padre Pio had foretold, she was indeed at his side when he died.
For me, this miracle is the most beautiful of all. It was not a single dramatic healing, nor an isolated grace. It was the story of a soul guided from birth to death under the mantle of Our Lady and the hand of Padre Pio.
From the night Giovanna was born to the moment Padre Pio breathed his last, their lives were bound together in a mystery of mercy. He shaped her as Our Lady requested, and she, in turn, stood as witness to the sanctity of his mission.
When I reflect on this, I cannot help but whisper with reverence: This truly was Padre Pio’s miracle.
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯 𝘋𝘦 𝘉𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘪’𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬, "𝘗𝘢𝘥𝘳𝘦 𝘗𝘪𝘰’𝘴 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘋𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘺𝘭𝘦."
𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘦: 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯 𝘋𝘦 𝘉𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘪/𝘊𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘗𝘰𝘱
