Letters

EXPRESSING BEAUTY
AND TRUTH
Pepe Rodelgo (from Miami) recently organized a CL vacation weekend on the campus of Ave Maria University in Florida, led by Chris Bacich (from NY), and attended by 45 people. One unique part of our experience was our visit to the on-site open-air workshop of Romanian sculptor Márton Váró, who offered our group his testimony as an artist to the beauty and truth expressed in the huge frieze of the Annunciation that will soon grace the facade of the campus oratory. Váró’s joyful dedication to the labor of presenting Mary (in dazzling white marble), at the moment of the Incarnation, as a real and beautiful mother, will continue to encourage an awareness–in all who will gaze upon her face over the centuries–that her Son is a person made real to us in His own works and in the works of those we encounter each day. This was the point of our gathering that weekend, building this awareness of His Presence, and I am grateful to all who work for this and who accompany me in this way!
Rob Klucik, Ave Maria,
Florida (USA)

a new way of
looking at myself
Last Friday, I went to the doctor and I found out that there is a little detail in my body that doesn't work the way it should. When I left the office, I was shocked, and I kept thinking that there is something wrong with me, that I was made with some kind of error. That afternoon, I was exhausted. I had spent the whole day struggling, thinking that I had to fix something in myself while being perfectly aware that I have no power to change any of this. When I reached the point of being completely overwhelmed, I stopped for a second and I prayed. I prayed because by recognizing that my life and my own body are not in my hands obliges me to see that I’m not making myself but that He is the one who makes me. Yet, to have this awareness, to sincerely say, “You are the One who makes me,” makes me realize that I cannot accept and conceive myself as someone who was made with an error. There have been too many factors in my life that show me that I am loved and that make me certain that He is not being cruel to me now. It just means that He knows everything, really everything, that He knows every single detail of my life and of my body, and He made me like this out of love. Being aware of this love, even if just for one second a week, is the only way for me to be at peace with this whole situation and to accept the circumstances given to me now.
Marta, New York (USA)

Lunch in
the Piazza
Baselice is a small town, home to a small CL community comprised mainly of mothers. One of them said, “In front of the earthquake in Haiti, we were not satisfied by a sentimental reaction or by delegating the responsibility of helping to somebody else; we started from the recognition that our companionship was present there in Haiti, and that we all were there with Fiammetta and our AVSI friends. Our belonging awoke the ‘I’ of each one of us, making us ask ourselves what we could do about it. We are mothers and housewives, so we decided to invite our entire town to a home-cooked fundraising lunch.” No sooner said than done! On January 7, 2010, 170 people were sitting at the same table; 10 mothers and 2 cooks were working the stoves; 15 youngsters in professional attire were waiting tables, and lunch was served. The owner of the venue said, “Today, we don’t dine for ourselves, but to make more evident to ourselves, and to all the friends who accepted our invitation, that there is a different way of being moved by the people in Haiti.” Around the table, there were people who maybe would never have lunched together–because of opposing political allegiances or because they belonged to feuding families. It was a display of humanity. The Mayor thanked us: “Baselice is proud of these mothers.”  Our town had not enjoyed such a fraternal and peaceful climate in a long time. The unavoidable question arose: What can generate such an unusual event? The answer comes from the mothers themselves.  Raffaella: “I am glad because I could serve Jesus.” Maria: “What is happening is greater than me.” Pina: “We started moving because of obedience to our companionship, and many in town participated maybe out of the sympathy they feel for our companionship.” Anna Lina: “All those who came to lunch were there for a new reason, that is, the desire to partake in a freely given friendship that has become a gift for the people of Haiti.”
Tonino, Baselice (Italy)

Only Christ can
triumph over death
Dearest Father Carrón: On October 24th, my wife Elena died. She was a 35-year-old woman and the mother of an eight-year-old child. Twenty-five years ago, I met the Movement, and the encounter with those kids forever changed the way I faced and lived my everyday life. I graduated from college in 1993. From the time I met Elena in 1996 to her death, I spent 15 years completely involved in my career and totally dedicated to my family. I stopped attending Movement initiatives, and stopped going to Mass. Yet, I still felt the recurrent, systematic need to be able to once again have that experience of abandonment that in those far-gone years had given me such freedom. On the day of Elena’s death, I tragically became aware that she was the reason I lived my life. My success at work, the money, the house in Milan and the one at the seaside, the boat, everything was because of Elena’s presence. The moment she was gone, I realized that I lived primarily for her (and, a close second, for my son). But if that was the case, I felt the urgent need for a “rational reason” that would allow me to keep going. During the funeral homily, Father Emilio said, “There are no words that can possibly offer an answer to events such as this, but there is a position that allows us to stay in front of them. I’ll explain: imagine a father who, immediately after getting back home from work, walks up to his son–who had been waiting for him–and slaps him in the face, so hard as to make the son cry. What would the crying son do? Would he run away? Or, most likely, would he desperately throw himself into his father’s arms, asking, ‘Why? Why this?’” That’s the way I am now; I am suffering and bewildered, and I ask myself why. Yet, I do it while resting in His embrace. I turned to look at my wife’s casket and at the people in attendance–a crowd of dazed and loving eyes looking at me, at my son Matteo, and at my family. Then and there, my heart was flooded with peace and gladness. I became utterly aware that in that very moment, Elena’s life was coming to completion, and I was there to accompany her on the day of her fulfillment. This was the meaning of our marriage. Understanding why this was happening wasn’t important; far more important was accepting that, within the Mystery of something unfathomable, an event like this could happen, as it did. From reason to faith, said Father Giussani. I started to understand: the separation from the person I had loved most  coincided with the affirmation of something beyond my understanding, something painful and jarring, and yet present. Like death. Being able to grasp this passage of faith wouldn’t have been enough if it hadn’t been for this new level of awareness that brought me to understand that even accepting that Elena’s death belonged to the Mystery of life would not take away the  drama that I deemed unbearable, impossible to face and handle. Yet, contrary to my expectations, the constant, discreet, and uninterrupted presence of old and new friends made this possible. The ability to witness a love that transcends one’s own person revealed the existence of a presence, found in friends, that never leaves you alone. This gave rise to an almost obvious discovery: the expression “Christ triumphs over death” that I had often heard and I had always thought abstract and formal, had now become for me a living experience. Christ, the companionship of Christ, in the Mystery of His presence, through His body, the people, the friends, triumphs over death.  Christ becomes the presence of a body that comes closer and that touches me; eats with me on Saturday nights, and comes to the movies with my son; takes me to the cemetery, sings with me, speaks, and allows me to live my wife’s death like the greatest act of love that she could have ever expressed. Nothing will ever be the same. I know it now. For this reason, I am sure that I have to give witness to what has happened to me. Not because of what happened per se, but because of what that event brought about. A lot of people I meet ask me how this evident gladness and the unavoidable pain can possibly coexist. The only possible answer is the proclamation of Jesus Christ present through His mystical body, the Church, that is, the companionship of the Movement, and those people with whom I share my everyday life.  This is Christ, today, for me, for us. Nothing will ever be the same.
Maurizio, Milan (Italy)

“Who knows what the
Lord wants from you?”
After four months of absence, I am back at School of Community. My father once told me, “You are getting lost.”  Last week, when I told him about the death of Miriam’s mother, I asked him, “Who knows what the Lord wants from her?” Unexpectedly, he answered, “Who knows what the Lord wants from you?” He died three days later. At his funeral, I experienced charity: As I listened to the song Favola, I was overwhelmed with emotion, with something that was not an ordinary and transitory feeling. I have always hated charity, whether I was at the receiving or the giving end of it. Yet, when you don’t have anything left… I didn’t have anything, and these friends came to embrace me. I was moved and happy. I had never been so happy before. I understood the meaning of charity. I am not angry and I don’t hate God–my father fulfilled his task!
Benedetto, Samarate (Italy)

Steal a Purse, Earn Two Masses
We had a party to celebrate the Feast of St. Agatha, and my purse was stolen. Returning home, I felt bitter, more because the unfortunate event had cast a shadow over the happiness we were experiencing than because of the prospect of having to have all my ID cards re-issued. A few days later, I received a call from Father Jacopo, telling me that my purse was in the sacristy of the Church of St. Therese. I asked Marco to go retrieve it. Later on he called me and laughingly told me, “I got the purse and I was about to leave, but I went back in and asked the priest to offer a couple of Masses for the person who stole it.” And to think that just two days before, he had told me that School of Community was stirring many things in him that he couldn’t even put into words… Forget about words! “…these things penetrate us as through osmosis, through osmotic pressure, rather than through a banal analysis that claims to clarify things.”
Susi, Verona (Italy)

SATURDAY NIGHT PACKING EXTRAVAGANZA
There are a number of beautiful things one can do to have fun on Saturday nights. My friends and I do something very great that helps us grow and know ourselves: we help others! Let me explain. We get together at 3:30 pm outside the Food Bank warehouse, we greet each other, and we start our activity with a prayer. Then we start our work, stocking shelves and boxing goods for families in need. At 5:00 pm, we have a drink together, right there where we work, and we talk about our week. Usually, there are between 20 and 25 young men, and I get along pretty well with everybody. Around 6:00 pm, we go to Cometa and spend some time planning our evening.  A bunch of us prepare dinner; someone puts together a list of songs, games, and topics to discuss after dinner; and, finally, the rest of us straighten up the place. That is the official beginning of our evening, but… the fun has already started! As a matter of fact, I have fun just seeing the others happy! I agreed to participate in this charitable work because I am happy when I help people in need. I am even happier if I do it with people and friends who, like me, put their hearts into this gesture. Yet I ask myself, “Can having fun change something in me, or am I having fun in vain?” I think that I have changed thanks to this moment of volunteering (and fun!).  For example, I learned to trust others more and be more trustworthy; I have made many friends, while before I preferred to stay on my own. All in all, I think I grew. Most of all, I am happier! I want to ask you the same question: Do you have fun to be happy, or just to fill up time?
Mahmud, Como (Italy)

KEEP THE LINK CONCERT
“Keep the link!” This is the name of our group of friends, a bunch of people who, sharing a passion for music after performing together for many years, have decided that the reason for their singing needed to have a greater human breadth–or better, an infinite one.  We have decided to donate all the group’s earnings to AVSI, because we are certain that those who meet the AVSI people meet not only friends who stay with them in their moment of need, but also the experience that corresponds to their hearts’ thirst for happiness, that is, the person of Jesus Christ. Last Sunday in Malgesso, He once again became present through the things that we saw and touched–from the generosity of a friend who offered his mall as the venue for the event and was fascinated with the humanity of the kids who were waiting tables (he asked Walter, the doctor who organized the AVSI tent, “How can I help my children become like these kids?”), to the lunch itself, carefully planned down to the smallest detail, and from the lottery to the Bishop’s greeting. Christ did not wait long to show Himself. He was there with us as we sang in front of all those people who, though not familiar with the English language, were paying close attention to catch a glimpse of the different humanity hinted at in those songs. “The things that I see got me laughing like a baby,” but most of all they “got me crying like a man”– because you can’t but be moved by His presence discretely sitting in the front row, listening to songs that we have sung and played for years and that suddenly become the instrument of a charity that none of us on stage had ever had, even for our spouses. Yet, all of a sudden, those songs became flesh and blood, like the people we had to thank at the end of that experience.  
The friends of Keep the Link, (Italy)