01-05-2007 - Traces, n. 5
Stories
From Albania to the United States
Letters from Jail
Human Ingeniousness
Majlinda is a young Albanian woman who works for AVSI. In 2005, she got sick with leukemia, and her friends arranged to have her treated in Italy. The story of her suffering reached those who did not know her personally, traversing long distances right through the walls of a jail in North Carolina, where two inmates offer their daily struggles for her. Joshua is already known to the readers of Traces; Rodney is a friend of his. This past March, they decided to write to Majlinda. Partaking in the same experience–in detention as well as in sickness–they witness to an unthinkable freedom and affection, as happened among the early Christians
This story couldn’t begin but on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception: Thursday, December 8, 2005. I was vacationing in Tuscany. My sister Simona, who works for AVSI, phoned me, saying, “Anna, I got news from Albania that Majlinda is ill. I’ll read you her test results.” I called Andrea, a hematologist friend of ours, who got in touch with my sister to discuss the case. Majlinda got a visa immediately and was admitted to a hospital in Milan on Saturday of the same week, December 10th. A few days later, she received her diagnosis: acute leukemia. And the whole procedure began: admission, chemotherapy… and, immediately, complications occurred: pneumonia and reanimation. At last, Majlinda started to recover and was ready for a transplant! It apparently went well, but after a few months, in November 2006, the disease came back. A new admission to the hospital followed, and a new transplant–thank God, a successful one. We have been asking Father Giussani, who has accompanied us thus far, for the miracles to continue. On May 10th–whence comes her name, “Maj Linda,” or “born in May”– she will turn 24.
Getting to know Majlinda has been and still is for me, as well as for many others, an unimaginable gift. A young girl learned to say yes to that which she was called to live and became a witness for her family–that now consider us a part of them–and for her AVSI and CESAL friends, as well as for the new friends she met at the hospital, including the doctors and nurses of the ward. Her eyes were marked by suffering, but at the same time were glad and smiling, even when she seemed to be at the end of her rope. The fact is that it is really impossible not to surrender in front of that gaze! Her life touched and melted our hearts, the hearts of those friends–I dare say the luckiest ones–who, like me, got to know her during this period, as well as the hearts of many others who had just heard about her, but maybe got to know her even better than we do! All over the world, for more than a year now, our people have been praying for her, even from across the ocean…
Anna Carobene, Milan
For many weeks now you have been a part of our lives here at the prison–in our thoughts, in our conversations, and in our prayers and fasting. Silently, you have re-awakened in us an understanding of the Church as the Body of Christ, a body with no divisions, a body that “does not consist of one member but of many” (1Cor 12:14). More importantly, the grace with which you are living your present circumstances proves to us that “the parts of the Body which seem to be weaker were indispensable” (1Cor 12:22). I wish you could see the change you have effected in my friend Rodney. He speaks of you every day. We love you and offer our daily trials for you.
Joshua, North Carolina.
March 5, 2007
Buon giorno, parla inglese? [Good morning, do you speak English?] Non parlo italiano [I can’t speak Italian], but I do have this book by Rick Steves, Italian Phrase Book and Dictionary. This should be interessante [interesting]. Mi chiamo [my name is] Rodney. I believe you are a friend of Sara and Sara is a friend of Josh, and Josh being my friend is how I came to write this letter. It’s odd that I think about you and your family, being that I don’t even know you, and that you are a world away. I’m not the kind of person that prays very much (ok, at all), but the more I do think of you, the more I get arrabbiato [angry]. So upset, in fact, that I have been pleading every day on your behalf to our Father.
First, I demanded to write, then, I…. begged. They told me I don’t even know your name (maybe I should have paid more attention to that part) but I was too busy telling them I had to contact you. If God is listening right now, He is sure getting an earful. What’s more amazing than me thinking and praying about someone I don’t know, is that I’m in prison doing all of this. I guess that would be the equivalent to the hospital you’re in: can’t go anywhere and the food stinks (ha, ha!). It’s something in and of itself that a free person here in the U.S. would come to know you, but a person who is not able to get out and about freely? Learning about you is Christ among us both. Don’t you think so?
Let me put this into perspective for you. The same year I came to prison (for something I didn’t do) and on my birthday (October 7, 2002), Josh finds out about CL. He’s been in prison six years at this time. We live in the state of North Carolina in the United States. There are over eighty prisons in North Carolina. Out of that eighty, four years later I come to the same place where Josh is. Through a friend, I meet him and thus learn about CL and the CL group in the state of Maryland (where Sara lives) and about AVSI, the one group I really want to work for one day. So, through coming to prison, meeting all these great people, now I get to write to you, who, from what I hear, has worked with AVSI! I’d never have guessed four and a half years ago I’d be this lucky today!
What’s ironic is that the one thing that allowed me to know you is the very thing keeping me here unable to visit: is that selfish? I want both]! Don’t think all prisoners are bad and evil, because there are a few who are good people. Don’t think all prisoners are poor, because there a few with great families, friends, and money. If they would let me, I’d be on the next plane to Milan. We have a motto here: “You want your cake and to eat it too”–meaning, you want to have it all your way.
Not very much has gone your way, and that really bothers me for some reason.
Are you able to read, write, and study? I’m sure you don’t feel like it very often. Did you really work with AVSI? If so, what did you do? Did you enjoy it? In Traces, Vol. 8, No. 11, 2006, it talks about AVSI, on page 20: “When you come across a person who is in need of love, affection, a hug, you understand that the service of this love, of this affection, will never be enough, never superfluous, and that we cannot build a civilization where this will never be needed, because a person might not need money, but will always need this hug.”
Can you do School of Community there?
We are reading The Journey to Truth Is an Experience, by Giussani. On page 60 it says, “Above all Christ shows authoritativeness and superiority in every occasion. Let us try to imagine those people who for weeks had seen Him return to the seashore, and then for three successive years continuously witnessed extraordinary episodes… until some abandoned everything to follow Him always and everywhere.”
I’m not sure how your personal experience with Christ has been, but mine has been a struggle. In this country, it’s thought that one can procure anything one wants without religion; a country so rich (in a materialistic kind of way), we perceive ourselves to be our own gods, in control of our own lives, sadly resulting in a reduction of true joy and happiness obtained only through Christ. I’m referring to the part that says: “…until they abandoned everything to follow Him.” I’m willing to give up everything, like drugs or alcohol, but not things like control! Wanting things “my way” is a big problem for me! Being a guy, I guess it’s hard for me to put how I feel or what I’m thinking into words, unless I’m upset of course! When I hear about everything you have gone through, I’m amazed at the stories of your strength in Christ. Does it not make sense to let someone with authoritativeness and superiority help you, teach you, care for all your well being? Yes, even when it doesn’t seem like that’s the case.
How do you pass the time? Do you get to watch any TV? I love calcio [soccer]; I played for 12 years. Though I’m American, my family is Irish, so I’m not big on American sports. I did get to see the World Cup, Italy’s big win. It will never happen again.
If you need anything, let Sara know so she can pass it on–books, movies, etc. I have friends to translate for me, if you do feel up to writing… If you need money for postage I can send it.
Stay strong, my friend; best wishes to your family and brother. Tell him I said hello. Never forget that we are friends who care, and are willing to do what ever it takes to help, even though we are half a world away and don’t know you.
Rodney, North Carolina.
February 27, 2007 |