Do you have a friend in your life whom you haven’t known your whole life, but it feels like you have? Maybe you can’t remember a time without them, or you can’t quite remember how and when you met, but they somehow seamlessly integrated into the life you were living before they were a part of it. It’s funny because, with those couple of lines, I just described how friendship with my husband began, but I initially intended to articulate how I met someone I would describe to be one of my best friends.
I don’t know when I first heard about this person. More than likely, I was in high school attending a retreat when I first heard his name or a story about him. He was well-known enough that he was a household name in certain circles, but his story was not so widespread that you could count on everyone knowing at least something about him. What did I know about him? To be honest, not much. I knew he was a young man from a wealthy family who loved the outdoors. He would play pool with his friends, making bets with them–if they won, he would clean their hiking boots for them (which was no fun task), but if he won, they would have to go to Eucharistic Adoration with him.
He was a dude’s dude. He loved to hike, ski, smoke, and spend time with friends. Though he was baptized Catholic, his parents weren’t particularly devout. He had just one sister. He studied engineering and was involved in anti-facist movements. His dad founded a successful newspaper. He cared for the poor–giving of the wealth he was born into to help those less fortunate than himself. He died at age 24 after contracting polio from one of the sick for whom he cared. His last act of charity, as paralysis overtook his body, was to scrawl a note for his sister to bring medication to someone in need. For his funeral, the streets flooded with the sick and the poor, coming to pay their respects to the man who loved them when perhaps no one else did.
He lived with the heroic virtue called for by Christ in the Gospels. He did ordinary things with extraordinary love, and he was young! Maybe this is why he was found intriguing by so many, and let’s be honest, he was easy on the eyes ;)
Having espresso at Wanda's apartment in Rome
I met his niece nearly 8 years ago. I went with a friend to visit her apartment, and the striking question she asked us was, “What has drawn you to my uncle? Besides, yes, I know he was very handsome.” I fumbled for words. What could I say to this woman? I can’t remember exactly what I said to her, but I know that his life was a powerful witness to me that “holiness is within reach,” as he was quoted saying.
My friends and I booked a trip to go visit his tomb and his family’s summer home. When we arrived at the church where he was buried, I wasn’t quite sure where to look for his tomb. I entered the main nave and looked to my left–there, I saw a humble tomb, tucked away on a side-altar of this church. The church was fairly quiet to begin with, but there was no one at his tomb. What happened next I can only describe as a surge of the heart. I was wearing a backpack and carrying a carry-on suitcase, and I (as reverently as possible) side-shuffle-ran through some pews to his tomb, knelt down at the kneeler in front of it, and wept very joyful tears. I couldn’t believe I was finally meeting him, in person, after hearing about him for what felt like so long.
Some might think it odd that I describe this encounter with a dead man as if he were alive. But, dear friends, he was much more alive then, and now, than I was when I met him. The veil between this life and the next is so thin that he was present there, and not just as a corpse in a tomb, but also as a soul desiring to bring people into Paradise with him.
My friends and I later went to his family’s summer home to spend the night. There, we were able to view some of his belongings (his skis, hiking boots, and diploma), family portraits, and even a baby picture. It’s a crazy adventure that I will always treasure.
That chilly, February weekend in northern Italy in 2018, my friend was known as Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati. As of September 2025 (100 years and 2 months after his death), he is now Saint Pier Giorgio Frassati. As often happens with the saints, my relationship with Pier Giorgio, looking back, began because he chose me, not because I chose him. He has been a powerful intercessor for me in ways that I know, and likely in ways that I don’t. It was through his friendship that I realized a relationship with the saints as real, living people was possible because the saints are very much alive!
An image of Pier Giorgio to greet guests at our wedding, taken by @jackmako
I would like to credit his prayers as part of the reason my husband and I stayed dating in 2020 and eventually got engaged that same year.
As I was cultivating this friendship with Pier Giorgio while studying abroad in Rome, I vowed that I would save my money to go back to Rome whenever his canonization was set to happen. A second miracle hadn’t yet been attributed to his intercession and approved by this point in 2018.
(How does the Catholic Church declare someone as a saint? Watch this video, it’s super helpful: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lUGRdpRJWYA)
In 2024, it was announced that a second miracle that had occurred through Pier Giorgio’s intercession had been approved, and he was to be declared a saint of the Catholic Church. How exciting! What joy! By the time this announcement was made, I knew I would be moving to Rome. I was hopeful that the canonization would take place while we were in Rome. I prayed a Novena to end on Pier Giorgio’s feast day (July 4, 2024) that he and then-Blessed Carlo Acutis would be canonized on the same day, and that some friends of mine and I would be able to attend the canonization. November of 2024 came around, and Pope Francis announced the canonization dates for the two men: April 2025 for Carlo and August 2025 for Pier Giorgio—not on the same day, and I would only be in Rome for Carlo’s, not for the canonization of my dear friend Pier Giorgio. What a huge bummer this was! Here, I lived in Rome and still wouldn’t be able to attend the canonization.
You pay God a compliment by asking great things of Him.
-St. Teresa of Avila
Me, at SAINT Pier Giorgio’s canonization!
We all know what happened next. The unexpected passing of Pope Francis sent Carlo’s canonization date into limbo. With a sede vacante and the Church being in a period of mourning, Carlo’s canonization could not proceed as scheduled. Pope Leo XIV was elected, and a little over a month into his papacy, he was scheduled to set canonization dates for those whose causes had been approved. I figured this would entail setting Carlo’s canonization date. What I couldn’t have dreamed of was that this meeting would result in the rescheduling of Pier Giorgio’s canonization as well. On the same day as Carlo’s. I immediately texted the friends for whom I had prayed. The sun didn’t set on the month of June before these friends had plane tickets to come to Rome for the joint canonization. Thanks be to God.
Fast forward to September 7, 2025: by the grace and perfect timing of our very generous God, I was in St. Peter’s Square with my husband, my two sons, and my dear friends to witness these two great men be elevated to the altar as saints of the Catholic Church, one of whom I had longed to witness this day for for several years. I wish I could have seen the look on Pier Giorgio’s niece’s face. In all of the excitement of the canonization, however, it was not lost on me that I was attending my first Mass with the new pontiff–the first ever papal Mass that my sons attended. Tears sprung in my eyes and joy filled my heart–heaven was tangible. Christ was present, and, in His generosity, He has given us the lives of the saints that we might know that holiness is possible for us, though we are wounded sinners. Through the lives of the saints, He has proven over and over again what He said in the Gospel of John (16:33), “In the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world.”
Sunday, September 7, 2025
My bestie, the “Man of the Beatitudes,” Pier Giorgio Frassati, is now a saint. I’m grateful for his continued intercession, as well as that of now-Saint Carlo Acutis, particularly as I strive to raise little boys to be men of God.
Saints Pier Giorgio and Carlo, pray for us!