My mother was like a trumpet and a waving flag in Massafra: the whole town knew her as Maria the Evangelist.
She was the trumpet that proclaimed the love of God, the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, and the blood He shed for the salvation of all who believe in Him.
Through her testimony, the church grew day by day. In the 1950s, Brother Antonio Santoro began visiting from Taranto, preaching the Word of God to the believers in Massafra. Brothers Andrisani and Giancaspero entrusted my father with the responsibility of opening and closing the services because Brother Santoro often preached in Taranto before coming to us and could not always guarantee arriving on time. However, Dad was still smoking at the time. He had asked the Lord for the strength to quit this habit, but until then, he had not succeeded.
One morning, my mother woke up and, as usual, knelt to pray and thank the Lord for the rest He had given her during the night. As she prayed, she heard a voice calling her: “Maria!” It was the same voice she had heard three years earlier. The voice told her to remove contaminated items from her house. My mother asked the Lord what was contaminated, but there was no answer. She finished her prayer, still wondering, “What is contaminated? Help me understand, Lord.” While she was deep in thought, my Aunt Lucia arrived. My mother told her, “Lucia, the voice I heard almost three years ago called me again and told me to remove contaminated things from my home, but I don’t know what needs to be removed. Let’s pray together and see if the Lord reveals what I must do!” As they prayed and wept, my mother thought, “Lord, You called me, now please tell me what to do and what is contaminated in this house. What should I remove? Because, Lord, I don’t know what to do! I’m certain it was You who spoke to me.” And the voice answered her, saying, “The tobacco!”
At that time, my father had bought 500 grams of tobacco leaves from one of my mother’s brothers, who cultivated them on behalf of a landowner in Palagiano. My father would shred the tobacco, roll it into cigarettes, and smoke them.
Immediately, my mother, with the help of my aunt, took the tobacco, wrapped it in a cloth, tied it up, dug a hole under the firewood, and buried it. After doing this, they thoroughly cleaned the entire house, even searching the pockets of Dad’s jackets, and disinfected everywhere, so that the smell of tobacco completely disappeared.
Just then, two customs officers knocked on the door, asking, “Does Mr. Cosimo Stallo live here?” When my mother confirmed it, the officers said nothing further, but entered and began searching the entire house, even removing the bedsheets to check the mattresses. After thoroughly inspecting every corner, they looked at each other and said, “There isn’t a trace of what we were looking for,” and then they left.
As they were leaving, my father arrived, carrying firewood on his bicycle. When he saw the officers, he dropped the firewood to the ground and thought, “They’re going to arrest me now!”
My mother then told him everything that had happened and said, “Don’t worry, do you see how great our God is? The Lord knows that we haven’t stolen anything from anyone.” That day, Dad said, “Lord, You have delivered me from prison, and from this day forward, I no longer want to smoke!” He burned the tobacco and kept his promise to the Lord until He called him home. Glory to God!
Thus, after many years of asking the Lord for the strength to quit, God worked in this way.
Less than a month later, the landowner of the tobacco plantation where my uncle worked arrived at our house in a horse-drawn cart. The man apologized to my parents, saying, “I had doubted you and even Pietro (my uncle). I thought you were selling smuggled tobacco, which is why I sent the customs officers to your house. Pietro told me he had sold you 500 grams of tobacco, but I didn’t believe him. I have come to apologize and to thank you. I’ve brought you many things to eat: legumes, almonds, dried figs, and other items.” When my father pieced together the story, everything became clear, and he responded, “I’m the one who should thank you because if the customs officers hadn’t come, I might never have quit smoking!” After saying this, he, like my mother, couldn’t keep silent and shared the Gospel with the man. Glory to God!