Passing by the Arco della Pace, in Milan, one freezing autumn morning in 1908, Don Guanella heard a coachman who, taking it out on his horse, uttered a barrage of horrendous curses.

Don Luigi approached and, although he didn't really need the carriage, he said to him:

- Friend, would you please take me to via Cagnola at number 11?

It didn't seem real to the coachman: he made him get on and, with a crack of the whip, set the horse in gear. Don Guanella took a good look at that poorly dressed man, in a worn coat and an old hat: his face clearly indicated that he must have been fasting for a long time; the carriage was rickety and the horse as adamant as the master; an old saddle cloth full of holes and patches protected the poor animal from the cold, which was barely getting by.

As they reached their destination, Don Guanella got out of the carriage and said to the driver:

— Would you like to take the opportunity to get some refreshment? With this cold and humidity, it's really needed... And perhaps your horse will like a nice hot drink too. Pass.

The driver, embarrassed as he was, was unable to say no and Don Guanella rang the bell next to the door. A nun appeared who was embarrassed to find in front of her that undernourished horse, that mustachioed driver and the smiling face of Don Guanella who said to her:

“This friend of mine is here who needs a little refreshment. We should immediately prepare him a nice hot soup, some bread and cheese and a bottle of wine.

He then called Andreìn Trombetta, a guest of the house who had the donkey in custody, and said to him:

'Andrein, let's prepare a nice bucket of warm drink for that poor horse who must be very hungry.

The nun and Andreìn were surprised but, without replying, they went to do what they had been commanded, while the driver and Don Guanella stood around the fire talking. A little later the horse had its refreshment and the master was seated at the table in front of a nice soup, a wheel of cheese and one of bread.

Appetite was not lacking and the soup quickly disappeared while the bread and cheese had a severe lesson. The bottle was meted out to a slow death as the coachman enjoyed the conversation more and more and the smile returned to his face.

When the snack was over, Don Guanella wrapped up the leftovers and gave them to the coachman who had risen to thank him, in a very different mood from the one he was in when he met his client.

"Dear friend," Don Guanella told him, "I realize that hunger is a bad advisor and that it was precisely the one who was telling you just now to light all those candles, but be careful, otherwise, together with your patience and health, you will also lose 'soul.

"You are right," replied the driver, you are quite right, and believe me, I am not the scoundrel that I may have seemed to you. This life has made me develop a bad habit and I really think I should do everything to break it. I promise you and many thanks for everything.

Don Guanella accompanied her to the door and greeted him. Once he got on the box and resumed his journey, the coachman met a woman and stopped to ask her:

- But who is that priest who lives in that door?

"But don't you know that?" It is our Don Luigi Guanella, a saint of the Lord!

"Really," said the driver, "a saint of the Lord really lives there."

One of Don Guanella's greatest concerns was always the search for vocations, for religious willing to continue and expand his enterprise by taking on the problem of the four "fs", as he said. In fact, in the first Houses of Providence four not very welcome guests reigned supreme, whose names began with an "effe": Fame, Freddo, Fumo and Annoyance. Even if they weren't always regular guests, they were nonetheless enemies with whom one had to fight on a daily basis.

Lombardy and other lands were always generous with vocations for the Work of Don Guanella, who had a very simple and effective way of inviting those who felt inclined to follow him... He often went out with six, eight of his patients whom he called " good children": they were the ones he welcomed with particular love, since they did not have sufficient intelligence to live with others. They generally had significant nicknames, as if they had been a sui generis team of bravoes: Pelapatàt, Leccapiàtt, Pallanin, Pestalàc...

It was a scene that had become familiar in Como and elsewhere to see Don Guanella taking his "bravo" for a walk; now seeing them, he said to himself:

- Here is Don Guanella taking his poor children for a walk!

Thus, for example, they went as far as Lurate Caccivio and the small group was often joined by the people they met on the street, so that a small procession formed around Don Guanella and his children.

When they arrived at the church, they greeted the parish priest and then they all went to say a prayer, after which Don Guanella made a short speech:

— My good friends of Lurate Caccivio, I have brought here among you my good children who possess a wealth that many intelligent people do not have, because they have innocence, the Grace of God is always with them and God loves them without measure and they love him as others do not know. We came to you to get some fresh air, because these good children need to have fun, to see this world. But above all they need to feel loved and they deserve it; they deserve it, believe me, not so much because they're nice, and they really are, but because they're good and innocent, even if they're unfortunate because they can't take care of themselves. And when they feel loved, when they really are, they become even better and pray to God in their own way.

Isn't there therefore among you some soul who feels like embracing the religious life in order to be able to assist and love these creatures of the Lord?

Then he reassembled his group of "innocents", accompanied by a small and curious crowd of boys from the village and walked through the green meadows to go back down towards the shore of Lake Como satisfied that he had left the seed of unease with the thought that you can't be happy alone.

Don Guanella particularly loved, among the guests of his houses, those peaceful crackers whom he called "good sons" and he showed them special attention. In fact, when he had some time, he would go looking for them: he would talk to them, joke and play a few card games. Before meeting them, however, he made sure he had a good supply of candies, sweets, biscuits and a few cigars in his pocket.

He often stopped for this supply from a tobacconist in via Dante, in Como, who knew him and who knew who all that stuff was intended for.

It happened once that the tobacconist hired help, a young man from outside who saw Don Guanella appear in front of him for the first time with an imposing order. This big priest, with a dreamy and absorbed air, his eyes half closed and a good voice, was ordering him with the utmost naturalness: a dozen half Tuscans, five Virginia cigars, the ones with the straw inside, three packets of and five of mince, a couple of kilos of candies, half a kilo of mints, biscuits...

The goods were piling up on the counter and Don Guanella did not notice the astonishment of the tobacconist who looked at him with a kind of aversion; on the contrary, calculating how much he needed and calculating what went to one and what went to the other, he took on more and more of the air of the pleasure-seeker who didn't want to forget anything, promising himself to spend an evening properly.

Finally the young man behind the counter could not help himself and said:

- What a fireplace and what a gargarozzo!

Don Guanella roused himself and, while he was paying the bill of nine lire, he realized the misunderstanding he had involuntarily caused and wanted to remove that boy from his doubts. Almost apologetically and with some embarrassment, which the other interpreted again wrongly, he said:

— They are not for me, they are for my good children!

In saying this, he left the poor fellow stunned without knowing if he was dreaming or if he was awake. It is said that the matter was then explained to him, but for that evening he was a little bewildered.

When he was sure that the funds for the financing of Don Guanella's first Opera were guaranteed, the bishop of Como, Monsignor Valfré, was happy to give his consent and his blessing to the start of the enterprise, even if previously it was not he was enthusiastic about it. However, knowing his man, he recommended that, for the moment, no more room should be given to the opening of new Houses.

A certain prudence and a certain patience were not characteristics of Don Guanella, so, after a short time, he presented himself to the bishop saying candidly:

— Excellency, forgive me if I didn't heed your recommendation, but there was a truly providential opportunity and I couldn't let it slip away... So I bought a vast building, called "La Binda", which Your Excellency certainly know, and now I have a debt of 40.000 lire... But there's no need to worry because Providence will certainly help us... I'm sure.

The bishop didn't swallow it: he smiled bitterly, stammered something and, shaking his head, went on to say goodbye, dismissing his priest rather abruptly.

Some time later Don Guanella reappeared to the bishop who imagined that he was coming to bring him his troubles, deriving from the imprudence he had committed, and prepared himself for a full blown outburst.

Don Guanella with great naturalness said instead:

— Your Excellency, Providence has taken care of it: I have been given a villa on a hill overlooking Menaggio, mirroring the center of Lake Como, with a beautiful Swiss chalet and more than 50.000 lire in cash

The bishop looked at him for a few moments with his mouth open, helpless and helpless, with his eyes widening with wonder and he could only say resignedly:

- Go calmly, Don Luigi, and do what you have to do because I see that Providence is on your side. All I have to do is bless you! God's ways do not always pass alongside those traced by men.

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Among the good children, i.e. the poor crackpots that Don Guanella particularly favored and loved, there was one called Chard, alluding to his clumsiness, his tousled way of speaking and walking, and his absolute lack of malice.

Who knows why this Chard always took it out on one of his equals, with reddish hair, who was logically called Carrot: they were born to be together, but they couldn't be together without arguing once in a while.

One day, while Don Guanella was receiving some people, the door opens and swoops in the direction like a wild bull Chard with the signs of a worrying alteration. Regardless of the presence of the guests, Chard stands in front of Don Guanella shouting:

"Either he goes, or I go!" Either he goes, or I go!

Naturally he was referring to his friend Carrot with whom he was angry who knows why.

Don Guanella doesn't get upset and, seeing that a visitor had a nice leather cigar case in his pocket, gently strokes the unkempt head of his protégé and says to his guest:

“You see, kind sir, this friend of mine is so upset because he doesn't even have a cigar butt to smoke in peace. Now if she were that nice, we'd put him through everything...

Saying this, he slipped the leather case from the gentleman's breast pocket, opened it, smiling, took out two Havana cigars, and placing them in Chard's hand, said:

— This is for you, on condition that you take this one to your friend Carrot and make peace right away

The visitor was happy to empty the rest of the cigars into the hands of Don Guanella who had demonstrated how much good could be done with a simple cigar

In fact, Bietola, happy and incredulous, took that treasure and thanking in his own way, immediately slipped through the door and ran with cries of jubilation to his friend Carrot, perhaps fearful that that kind gentleman would reconsider and deprive him of the joy of a wonderful evening at pass smoking in company.

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The beginnings of Don Guanella's activity were difficult and often marked by misunderstanding, given that he undertook many activities without worrying about the means necessary to carry them out. Even his superiors advised him to be more relaxed, not to expose himself to dangerous activities, not to make too onerous commitments. Don Guanella turned a deaf ear: he saw the needs of so many poor unhappy people: he did, he did and he trusted in Providence saying:

“Poverty can't wait. And we cannot stop until there are poor people to help!

The bishop of Como, Monsignor Teodoro Valfré di Bonzo, never tired of repeating to him when he heard him explain his audacious projects:

- Don Guanella, I recommend: prudence, prudence, prudence!...

Once an ecclesiastic who had been a teacher of theology was found in the presence of the bishop and Don Luigi, who, hearing the heartfelt recommendations of the pastor, wanted to underline the opportunity of teaching his doctrine from above and said:

- Remember, Don Luigi, that the first virtue is precisely prudence...

- Instead, I remember very well, professor, that when you taught us theology, you told us with certainty that the first virtue is faith!

Don Guanella loved simplicity, concreteness and abhorred everything that was false, false, artificial. So it was also in devotion and religious practice that he didn't want polluted by sentimentality, by easy enthusiasm. Everything had to be based on a profound faith and on the daily exercise of fraternal charity towards whoever one had to deal with during the day.

Once he had an inkling that the readings of the nuns at S. Maria di Lora were not what he wanted and he asked, speaking to the nuns:

— Be sincere, tell me which books you read and give to the novices to meditate on?

None of the interviewees wanted to answer, but after repeated insistence, it turned out that the readings were all of the type: Gold straws, Eucharistic sparks, Dewdrops...

"I had imagined it," said Don Guanella, blessed martorellas, don't you understand that they are all sweetish pages full of sentimentality? that exclamations, sighs, dots are more than words? To live, you need nutritious foods, real foods: stuff that sustains you even if you struggle to chew it. You can't live on candies! Much better hard bread, better cheese crusts than that stuff that is worth eating air. You are not butterflies, nor crickets, nor grasshoppers: nothing but drops of dew are needed for you, martorellas, called to be little martyrs of love and pain!

At the end of 1912 Don Guanella made a long tour of the United States of America to give life to some of his works. As an introduction, he brought an autographed letter from his friend Pius X. Returning to Italy in February 1913, he wanted to make one of his first visits to the Istituto Fanciulli Poveri in Gatteo di Romagna.

The young guests of the institute knew him very well from his previous visits and awaited him. When he appeared among them, smiling and happy, the boys at first clapped their hands happily, then began to look at each other and then, one after the other, began to laugh, so much so that the hilarity became a general and uncontrollable laughter. .

Don Guanella looked around without understanding the reason for all that happiness: sometimes he too laughed, sometimes he became serious and perplexed, unable to understand what had happened.

He looked at the director of the institute, Don Martino Cugnasca, a charitable grumpy, serious and not inclined to joke: that time he too laughed heartily.

Don Guanella calmed the laughter a little and asked Don Martino what had happened. He replied that:

"But don't you see, Don Luigi, that he goes around masked like Doctor Balanzone?"

Then Don Guanella understood: not at all worried about how he dressed, he had put on the clothes that he had to use in America as they were de rigueur for the ecclesiastics and having to speak in many communities. Seeing that the clothes were still new, he put them on thinking he could use them who knows how much. So he had presented himself in stiffelius: an archaic cut suit; on his head he wore a large bushel hat and on his feet shoes with buckles.

Thus he had obtained that deluge of laughter, due above all to the fact that he wore those clothes with perfect naturalness, without thinking of appearing at least extravagant or original. Don Guanella understood that his listeners were right to laugh and to laugh heartily, so he too laughed at himself. He finished his visit just as cheerfully, then, back home, he dusted off his old wardrobe, abandoning his American clothes.

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