Anthony Cetola, a young shepherd living south of Rome, jumped at the chance to emigrate to the United States. He found a night-shift job in East Orange, New Jersey and a bed at the YMCA. He had heard the Protestants might try to brainwash him, so was reluctant to accept the tract offered him on the way to work one evening. But he had been taught to be polite so he took the leaflet, but then tore it up and shoved it in his pocket for disposal later. When his shift was done, he found himself standing outside a bakery, waiting for his bus. The aroma of the fresh bread that he couldn’t afford filled his nostrils. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets to find a little warmth—and instead found the tract. Pulling a few pieces out, he saw the title: “The Bread of Life.” Overwhelmed, he hurried to his room, carefully reassembled the message, and discovered the truth of the Savior’s words: “I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me shall never hunger” (Jn 6:35).