When Money Won't Help

In Sicily, when Joe was about 8 years old, his father stopped his truck on the road at the bottom of their farm. The farm sloped back up the hillside on the high side and the ground fell away sharply on the other side of the road to form a ravine. Joe's father told him to follow, and he got out of the truck and looked down into the ravine.

He took a big lot of notes out of his wallet and held them in one hand. "You see all this money, Guisseppe?"

"Yes father, I see it."

Joe's father had supernatural strength, he was the strongest man Joe's ever known, but he concealed his strength and was never one to show it off. He worked all day without stopping, not even for lunch. With his other hand he reached down and grabbed the front of Joe's shirt, lifting him off the ground so he could see well down into the ravine.

"If you fell down there Guisseppe, you'd break a leg or be badly injured in some way, and you wouldn't be able to climb out. If you had all this money in your pocket it would do you no good. But if you had a friend up here who knew you'd fallen, he would help you and you would get out. Remember this Guisseppe all your life, wherever you go, having a friend is more important than having money." Joe said this was planted in his brain, right in the front, and he's lived his life by it.

Joe told me that just as his father was gifted with great strength, and his brother with the ability to see the future, his gift was healing hands. He's been a trainor at Gembrook Football Club since 1962 where his massaging of injured players is legendary. He showed me his massage room, also adorned with photographs, where he massages anyone who rings up for no charge. He's the fourth person, one each in four generations of his family who has this gift. His grandmother knew he had it when she saw him nursing a sick lamb when he was a small boy.

Not once in all his life has he charged for this service, despite being a qualified masseur. To legally perform his role at the football club he did formal training. He showed me his certificate with pride. He says it's a gift he must share, and his reward, which makes him so happy, is when people ring him up to say they are better.