Letters

A SACRIFICE THAT
CHANGED EVERYTHING
Dear Julián: I would like to humbly give a witness about what I saw happening these past days because of His will. May 16th was going to be a special day for me, not only because we had been called to affirm, through our presence in St. Peter’s Square, He on Whom our lives rest, but because the kids in the catechism class I teach were going to have their First Penance. Those kids are like sons and daughters to me; I look at them one by one, and I accompany them along the journey of knowledge that leads to the encounter with Him, Who is their fundamental treasure. Like a mother–even more than a mother–I have spent time with them, praying and talking about Him, waiting for the day when the grace of God would descend upon each one of them. I decided to stay home on May16th to be with them, and I thought, “No, not even Carrón can expect me to leave them alone on this momentous occasion.” Even if I wanted to give witness to and cry out the name of the One on Whom my life rests, in a time when the whole world affirms the opposite and denies the evidence, I was still certain that nobody would expect me to make the sacrifice of leaving my kids. Yet, after years of struggle and pain due to my inability to embrace the Movement in its human aspect–when I recognized the path that lay before me but it looked like a mere discourse, and my heart wanted more–something happened. When, during our last School of Community, you challenged us by asking whether we would be interested at all in Christian life if not for the encounter with Movement–therefore with Christ, the Church, and the Pope, who is the Vicar of Christ on earth–I understood that without that “something that comes before” I wouldn’t be the  catechism teacher of those children, and I would not be able to look at them and love them the way I do. Going back to the origin made me understand that going to Rome came before everything because it was the source of everything. At that point, I decided to go. Yet, I had to ask my pastor’s permission: how could I go to Rome to witness to my bond with the Pope, the head of the entire Church, if, at the same time, I was disobeying the leader of the local Church? I ran into an obstacle, because the pastor thought that as a catechist I was required to be present at the First Penance, while the proposal to go to Rome was directed only to the lay movements. I prayed to the Lord and entrusted myself to His will. He did not abandon me. I explained my reasons to the pastor and I told him that the call of that gesture was directed to him as well, and an exceptional event happened: not only did he give me permission to go, but he even told me that he would pray for us and with us during the celebration. I was moved to tears and I thanked him, but most of all I thanked the Lord, who used us both as instruments of His will. What happened in St. Peter’s Square exceeded my expectations. The sacrifice that was asked of me changed everything, because it made my presence there and my being a catechism teacher truer and more meaningful; I was there with my kids, in a way that goes beyond physical presence–so much so that, at the end, each one of them received the Pope’s blessing as well.
Maria Luisa, Varese (Italy)

Dante and Man’s Freedom
A few weeks back, with my junior class, I was reading a passage from Dante about desire and man’s freedom.  One of my students was visibly upset by it; she rebelled and said that Dante was wrong. I pressed her with a string of questions and remarks, all of which were aimed at making her acknowledge the truthfulness of what we were reading (which, for me, was absolutely evident). Then Federica exploded: “Fine, Professor, if you want, I’ll tell you that I agree, but for me it’s still a no!” I suddenly realized that Federica was in front of me, with all of her being “other,” and I became free to ask her to explain what was upsetting her so much, what did not add up. The desire to understand became suddenly more necessary and interesting than the desire to persuade her. Christ’s great charity toward me is revealed in how relentless He is in putting me in front of things, circumstances, people, and my work, so that I can always have the possibility to verify my position in relation to Him, and how I am responding to Him, Who always comes looking for me.
Sara, Italy

WHAT SPRANG FROM OUR YES
At the Fraternity Exercises I was very moved by watching the video of Fr. Giussani speaking at St. Patrick’s in 1981, although I had seen it before. It suddenly struck me what a miracle it is that the Movement exists at all here in the U.S. I remember very clearly what the life of CL was like when we had no books of Fr. Giussani, no Traces, no Spirto Gentil CDs–nothing but a few handouts with which to do this strange thing called School of Community. What a weird term. At that time, to speak of “experience” or “Event” was beyond strange for everyone. Even those who understood that Fr. Giussani was perfectly within the tradition of the Church felt that American Catholics would never respond to him. Watching the video, we have had years of experience and education to overcome our deafness–those two or three people scattered here and there who followed had none of that to go on.  So why did they follow, while so many who were aware of the Church’s need for renewal walked away because what Giussani was saying sounded like gibberish or didn’t seem pertinent to “real” problems, judged according to their standards? This matters to me, because if they hadn’t said yes, I wouldn’t have met the Movement. I’m not sure I would be in the Church today, but I certainly wouldn’t have any awareness of the richness of faith and what the Christian fact has to do with me. And I wouldn’t have my wife, my kids, my career, because all of those blessings sprang from their yes. That’s what hits me most strongly. Really, the lesson of Fr. Carrón in these Exercises resonated with me, because I can see so clearly what an openness to Christ generates. 
 John Touhey, New Jersey (USA)

Arm in arm with the
two Haitian girls’ need
Iwas in Haiti for a week in May with a group of young workers from my parish in Indianapolis. What I saw there was another verification that Christ is alive in our midst and holds a promise for all of us–regardless of our circumstances. I could say many things, but I wanted to recall one particularly striking story that I don’t think will ever leave me. We were being led on a walk in the village of Bombard, Haiti, looking at homes where the people lived (very crude dwellings, unfurnished, dirt floors, limited possessions, no running water) and we found ourselves starting a “parade” with almost all the kids of the village. Two girls latched onto me, both of whom were probably age 10, sweaty, smelly little girls in tattered clothes walking barefoot with me. They were patting their mouths to gesture for food and water, but I had nothing (and I had been instructed by the Haitian priest to leave handouts to their discretion).  I figured the girls would leave... but they walked two hours with me, arm in arm. The problem was that I was face to face with my limitedness. I couldn’t give them water. I couldn’t offer any words because I didn’t speak the language. To be honest, I was really uncomfortable because these girls were dirty and hanging onto me. I just wanted the walk to end so I didn’t have to face this anymore!  I was miserable. I had forgotten the dignity of those two girls. They weren’t defined by the fact that they have no food or water. Those 10-year-olds were huge bundles of need… the same needs that I have!  And I needed to affirm that somehow–that I saw past their suffering, that I saw  Christ in the faces of those two girls, asking me to be with Him. Would I walk away or face it?  So, I begged, asking specifically for St. Damien’s and Blessed Mother Theresa’s help in loving, detached from anything superficial.  And what happened?  The girls started singing songs from school to me with immense joy and delight at my praise.  I even sang a few–of course, they didn’t know the words–but they thought these songs were hilarious!  And when the walk ended, I said goodbye, knowing I would probably never see them again but praying that God provide for them always. Since I’ve been home, I’m understanding more and more what the School of Community means by true charity. Affirming Another’s being in the person in front of you is the only true charity. The faces of those two girls are etched in my memory.  No amount of food or water could satisfy their hearts. No amount of money, either (although a lot of my time has been spent asking my friends for donations). In staying committed to the reality in front of me, God gives me the opportunities to be charitable with what I have. 
 Erica Heinekamp,
Indianapolis (USA)

A NEW DIAGNOSIS
In front of a “you”
Dearest Father Julián: A middle-aged woman came to see me at my office (I am a cardiologist) and told me that she needed a checkup. She added, “You see Doc, my husband passed away many years ago, and I have been living for my children since then. I sacrificed and managed to put them through school; now that they are all married, I don’t have anybody to take care of, and I feel my life is useless. I am searching for the inner peace I have always wanted, and that I have never been able to attain. For this reason, everything fills me with anxiety.” As she was talking, I realized that I had encountered what she was looking for, and after a little hesitation I answered, “You see, dear lady, my experience is that, as we grow older (I am 58), all those things and relationships we placed our hope in fade away. The first reaction is to think that we have done everything wrong, and to feel useless. On the contrary, I have realized that I am just like a child whose father, realizing that it is bad for his son, takes away a Play Station that he himself had given him. The father doesn’t do it to hurt the son, but precisely because he loves his son, and he wants the son to recognize him, observe him, and grow–within the relationship with him. That’s the way I have been treated by the Mystery, by He Who has filled my life with the relationships and the numerous good things in which, for a long time, I put my hope. I understand that this Father loves me and goes to any length so that I recognize Him and attach myself to Him. Your life is not useless; it’s just that the time has come for you to look at this ‘You’ face to face. You need to meet Him, because He is that peace that you are searching for.” At the end of the visit, I invited her to come to Rome on May 16th with my friends, in support of the Pope, to give her the possibility to start following that which I had proposed for her. When we parted, reminding each other that nothing happens by chance, she was smiling. I have been thinking about what happened, and what dominates is not the satisfaction of having been a “good CL guy.” I am in awe of the discovery that the gaze and the heart with which I spoke to that woman are not the fruit of a particular ability of mine. It is as if the gaze and the heart of an Other had prevailed. The discovery of this “You,” Who never grows tired of me, and Who keeps looking for me and loving me, is the most beautiful adventure of my thirty years of belonging to the Movement.
Antonio, Imola (Italy)

what do you want
for your life now?
Dear Father Carrón: A few months back, I had a very tough night shift in the delivery room. The following morning, my greatest desire was to finish as soon as possible and go home. Then, one of the nurses came to tell me that one of the patients who was scheduled to have an abortion was very nervous and preoccupied. The nurse thought it would be a good idea if I talked to the patient. I reluctantly interrupted what I was doing and went to meet the woman. She was young and seemed very scared. She said she was also very afraid of the anesthesia, and asked me a lot of questions. After spending some time on technical issues, I cut to the chase and I told her: “Look, probably going into that operating room is less dangerous than crossing the street! Yet, as far I am concerned, that is not the problem! What do you want for your life now? What do you hope for now, being here? Look, I am not talking about your baby–I am talking about you.” From that moment on, our discussion changed radically. She talked about herself and what she wanted for her life; about her family and her fiancée, and at the end she asked me to show her the baby with the sonogram. She went through with the pregnancy, and a baby girl was born. I was in awe when she told me, “Up until now, nobody had ever asked me what I really cared about, and even if somebody had asked me, I would have answered that I wanted to have the abortion. Yet, that answer would have taken into account neither me, nor my desires for my life. You, doctor, had the courage to ask me that question.” What happened wasn’t due to a particular talent of mine; I wasn’t even up for a discussion, and what I said seemed obvious to me. But it wasn’t obvious at all! I rediscovered how important it is to remind each other to judge things, and to always keep our “I” wide awake. If my whole “I” is not into everything I live, it all becomes only a beautiful, albeit useless, feeling.
Andrea, Milan (Italy)

THE ELEVATOR ENCOUNTER
It’s Monday afternoon. I am going back to my office after meeting with a client. I take the elevator, and on the ground floor a little girl gets on; she is sick, and her grandmother is pushing her wheelchair. I smile at the little girl, pat her on the head, and ask her, “What’s your name?” The grandmother tells me that the girl cannot hear; she has been tied to that wheelchair for the past two years, and has a six-month life expectancy. A few words, a handful of seconds, a life. I think about my niece Cecilia, two years old. She is beautiful, vivacious, always on the move. Every day, she discovers something new about the world. One more floor and we reach the doctor’s office. The grandmother says goodbye to me. I am still on the elevator, and I want to cry. I didn’t even have the time to learn the girl’s name. The day goes on and quickly comes to an end. At night, the memory of that encounter doesn’t let me sleep. I think about that girl’s parents, her relatives. “Charity: gift of self, moved...” This is not a catch phrase. It is the way we need to face life, when life doesn’t cut us any slack, when you are there with that mysterious angel, looking at you every day, and asking you: “What does your hope rest upon?”
Angelo, Italy

A LOVING GAZE VS. A USER’S MANUAL
Dear Fr. Carrón: I am a kindergarten teacher and a mother of three. Recently, I requested a meeting with the mother of one of my students because the child had some difficulties taking her nap, and appeared troubled. During our dialogue, after dealing with the somewhat uptight attitude of the mother, as well as with her unspoken and yet overt feelings of guilt, I asked her how she was doing. She started to open up a little and to tell me about problems at home, her struggle with her daughter’s whining, the responsibility of raising her practically on her own (her husband is away for work), and the conflict between her desire for her daughter not to lack anything, and the decision not to keep her under a glass bell. She was sad and confused. Suddenly, I stopped her and told her, “Anyway, you are the best mother in the entire world.” She looked at me, silent for a few seconds, and then thanked me. She was moved. I asked her a few questions about the way she deals with her daughter, and I tried to explain how I go about it with my children, trying to understand and embrace her in her struggle. That remark of mine changed the relationship with me, as well as with her daughter–who, the following day, started being more serene. Not that long ago, I would have handed her a user’s manual, just like a good teacher would; instead, that day, I looked at that mother the same way Jesus, through my friends, looks at me. What I told her wasn’t at all what I had planned; yet, in that brief moment, I thought about my own limitations and struggles, and about the desire to be happy that we both had. This way it became immediately evident that the difference between me and her was my certainty of the merciful gaze that Jesus bestows upon me, and I wanted her to experience that same gaze.
Claudia, Italy