LETTERS

THE PRECIOUS PEARLS GOD
IS BESTOWING AMONG US
Ihave thought at length about my recent health scare (pulmonary embolism and pneumonia) and, given that I have always been in good health and an enthusiastic worker, the only way I could make sense of it was that our good God wanted to remind me that my life was in His hands, and that everything I did belonged to Him. God thought it better to keep me humble to preserve me from becoming proud. I have a great desire for everything that happens to me and that we do at the Imprevisto (a community for recovering drug addicts) to be a sign of His love, and for the strength and the effectiveness that we have experienced in the past few years to be ever more clearly the result of our surrender to Him, that is, to the Movement. I don't want this new-found energy and enthusiasm to fade–which could happen if I thought it was all my doing. Through the years, we have become a known entity for many people: fraternities, schools, parishes, associations, and newspapers. Both our workers and our guests had to do some soul-searching about our experience and about the deep-rooted reasons for the work we do here. The following are some of the witnesses that the kids contributed to our meetings. I want to share them because they are like precious pearls that God is bestowing on us.
Eugenio: "We are in this community to perform a task, a service that is for everybody, for the whole world." Cristiano: "I have discovered that I am a gift to myself and to everybody. I am a gift of God, therefore I have to give my life to others." Edoardo: "I don't think of the future as a problem; what counts is how I live in the present, and how the desire of my heart is brought to the surface in front of my current situation." Roberto: "I had to go through everything I went through and suffer everything I suffered, in order to discover that I am something great." Federica: "Everything is for me. I consider as 'mine' even things that are far away, and experiences of people I don't know. I feel that even those things are useful to me." Many times I pursued the illusion of perfection, yet only one thing matters. Our kids understand this faster and better than I do. They understand that there is something, or, better, Someone who comes to meet you and lifts you up, and this is what brings about all the other gifts that your life needs in order to be something great–from work to houses; from the new communities to money.
Silvio, Pesaro (Italy)

ON A JOURNEY GUIDED BY
AN OPEN-ARMED EMBRACE
The letter we publish here was written to all of the St. Carlo Borromeo priests and to the Nativity staff.
The loss of our son in April 2010 devastated us. He died within nine hours of walking into the hospital, of meningococcal sepsis (seven other Colorado college students died in the same period). Alex, along with our daughter, had become our pride and joy and expectation for the future. Father Accursio, with us from the funeral to today, thankfully introduced us to Communion and Liberation, through which we have gained a faith, with reason and evidence, that our son is in Heaven and that life is still a gift. We are also thankful for Father Gabrielle's kind words and shared prayers during so much grief. Through Father Michael and the seminarian Umberto, we attended the FSCB priests' gathering at the Vatican on February 12, 2011. An audience with the Pope, the wonderment of Rome, and the experience at Saint Charles Seminary had a profound spiritual impact on us and gave us a renewed sense of truth regarding our son's place in reality, while also giving us a renewed joy for life–a joy that goes beyond anything we had thought possible. Of major importance was the opportunity to speak to Fathers Massimo and Matteo at the seminary, whose words penetrated our hearts. It was Father Massimo's simple thanks for the "gift of our son" that opened our view to gratitude, rather than constant sorrow. Today, as we continue to desire to know God and His will for us more fully, we think of your many gifts and pray in gratitude to God for the guidance you all have provided, along with your knowledge and open-armed embrace leading us to acceptance.
Dan and Mari Welch,
Colorado (USA)

"WHO WROTE THIS
BOOK ABOUT ME?"
During one of our trips to Uganda, we visited a hospital run by the Comboni missionaries in Matany, in the middle of the savanna. On a Sunday afternoon, we went to the School of Community meeting that had been advertised on the bulletin board of the hospital. There were around 30 people, mostly patients. Besides me and my friend, there were only two other CL members: the director of the hospital, Daniele Giusti, and Joseph, a young Ugandan who worked in the administration office. The rest of the participants were a mix of Catholics, Protestants, Muslims, and animists(who believe spirits inhabit living beings, objects, and phenomena–that is, everything has a soul). They were all listening intently. The text was The Religious Sense. Joseph's story is incredible. When he was six, he started bringing his father's cattle to pasture with his brother, sometimes staying away from home for days. When he was ten, he ran away from home to attend school, and later started working as an administrative aide at the hospital. One day he told me how he met the Movement. "Shortly after joining the hospital staff, on a Sunday, I saw the advertisement on the bulletin board for School of Community. Since I didn't have anything better to do, I decided to go to the meeting. I wasn't too enthusiastic, because once before some white men had come to my village to read from a huge book, but I had not liked them. When I arrived, the meeting had just started and I decided to stand next to the door. They were reading from a small book, which was interesting in itself. Suddenly, I felt like a lightning bolt had struck me, as I realized that they were talking about me. I was shocked and unable to move. I thought people were about to realize that they were talking about me, and I expected them to turn around to look at me any minute. They did not look at me. I wanted to know who had written that book about me. Who in Europe knew what my thoughts were when I tended to my father's cattle? If nothing else, I wanted to tell my brother what had happened! That day they were reading the fifth chapter of The Religious Sense, with the Leopardi poem Night Song of a Nomadic Shepherd in Asia. When the meeting ended, I was bursting with impatience; I wanted to know what else that book said."
María Rosa, Madrid (Spain)

LEARNING TO SAY "YES"
TOGETHER WITH MY CHILD
My child has a disease that will not allow him to live outside my womb. This past month, I suffered intensely, yet my child is the confirmation that if one says "yes" to the circumstances one is called to live, one can bloom and become a stronger and truer human being. My child is radically changing the way I look at things. It's unbelievable; I have never heard the sound of his voice, and he is so small that the world considers him useless (so much so that mothers are often advised to abort children like him), yet staying in this painful circumstance and continually saying "yes," I grew. When something like this happens, you would like to know all the details: what the diagnosis is, how much time he will have, whether he will be able to be born…I was attached to these things too, until, after the amniocentesis, I realized that if I kept thinking about how long this agony was going to last, I was bound to live with anxiety and anguish as my constant companions. I recognized that, in the past month, my most serene moments had been those when, instead of mulling over my toil and its duration, I had focused on the love I could give to my child. It became clear that all I had to do was to stay with him, and accept and love him for who he was, and for his destiny. My task is only to accompany him, as I can, and not to impose my own will; to keep him company and to allow him to be what he has to be. I understand that only God will decide how long our child will be with us. I have also understood the value of pain. We live in a world, a society, where the only things that matter seem to be your paycheck, your vacations, the beautiful objects you posses, etc…I am pretty fed up with this way of thinking. My value as a person goes beyond how much I earn or the job I have; it goes beyond where I spend my vacations or how many children I have. Life is made of joys and sorrows, and they both have value and deep meaning for my humanity and existence. Even pain, once I face it, brings something into my life and can enrich and strengthen me. It can change me, therefore it is not useless. In my prayers I ask the Lord to help me say "yes" to Him always, even in the most difficult moments. My hope is that, in our friendship, we help each other look at every circumstance we are called to for its true value, that is, not as a curse, but as something that challenges us to grow and to become more and more what the Lord wants us to be.
Name withheld

The Work of Our Life
Dear Fr. Julián: A few days ago, I left school extremely tense, because of a disastrous lesson I had with a class that often gives me grief. In anger, I said to myself: "For goodness sake, can You do something for a change?!" While I was saying that I realized that, indeed, I had not relied on Him at all that morning. Notwithstanding my desire and human drive, my positive energy toward preparing my lessons with attention to the beauty, goodness, and truth of the topic at hand had not taken into consideration Christ, Who is the last word on everything. This realization gave me a fresh start and brought to completion the work of that morning, which up to that point had just been unfinished business. It seems to me that the salvation of my life coincides with a judgment or, better, the judgment. Strangely enough, this does not imply a big effort of one's intellect or an artificial attitude towards life. Far from being a mere commentary on actions, judgment brings to the fore the desire that resides in the depth of my heart. Therefore, desire and judgment are not opposites; they fulfill each other. Judgment is not something I stick on things from the outside, just to revive or channel my desire. It is not spontaneous, and yet it is not something exterior that I add to what I am. Judging means going to the depth of myself. Catching my reason in action as it asks the meaning of what happens–and what I desire from what happens–is the greatest and most beautiful and thrilling work of my life. It is the work.
Monica, Italy

"I AM JAPANESE TOO"
What is happening to the world? What is happening to me? What is being asked of me? The war in Libya, the earthquake in Japan… People worry about the consequences, but I don't. I only want to understand what God is telling me through all these events. What happened in Japan showed me that science and safety measures can save lives, but the Lord of the world is Another. Since the day of the earthquake here in Abruzzi (2009), I have been asking myself the same question: "Who will save me? Who will save and watch over my children?" Salvation is not life as we think of it; we could live a long life and still find no meaning. Salvation is One Who claims me as His own and has pity on my nothingness and on my daily attempts to build something good. Salvation is One Who embraces me. As I look out of the window toward the snow-capped mountains, I think about the people living in Japan–that I now perceive as being very near. Japan is inside of me: it is the presumption that leads me to believe that I can build something that lasts; it is the deceiving thought that I am fine as I am, and that I already know what I need to know. I am like the people in Japan; I am Japanese too. There is no difference between us, because we both need His embrace. Because of this, I keep saying: "Have mercy on me; keep me with You and don't give up on me! Take in the whole world with Your embrace, because that is the only thing we really need."
Grazia, L'Aquila (Italy)

­­­THE SIMPLE GESTURE OF CONTRIBUTING TO THE COMMON FUND
Dearest Father Carrón: Recently, I went on the CL website to look for the Fraternity Exercises' enrollment form, which I had not received in the mail as usual. I thought there had been a glitch in the system. The secretary sent me the form, and added, "You did not receive it because it appears that you have not contributed to the common fund for a long time. The decision of not sending the form was taken as a reminder of the educative value of contributing to the common fund." At first I didn't react too well because, even though I am 68, it's not easy for me not to give in to instinct. Thanks to the grace of God, that didn't last longer than a second, and judgment kicked in. While it was true that my finances had been, and still were, in pretty bad shape, that wasn't reason enough to stop contributing–since all I was asked for was a free offer in the amount of my choice. A handful of Euros would not change my situation, and even less the Movement's. On top of that, on numerous occasions I had received a similar reminder, but always in the shape of an invitation extended to everybody. Evidently, I thought the word "everybody" did not include me. I asked myself: "How much do I care about the Movement and my friends? Why do I try so hard to help the community with small gestures–like singing in the choir or reading at Mass–and at the same time I am not faithful to the common fund?" At the end, I came to the conclusion that God, in His tenderness, thought that it was time to issue a personal invitation.
Michele, Italy

THE SAME PASSION FOR CHRIST
Dearest Father Julián: As soon as we received the news that the beatification of John Paul II would take place on May 1st, somebody asked me what the Movement would do, since the event would coincide with the last day of the Fraternity Exercises. The question was spurred by the need to know whether or not to remain in Rimini, as well as by an authentic affection for the former Pope. I felt I was between a rock and a hard place and, hesitatingly, I answered that I would stay in Rimini, and that living the Exercises to the fullest would be my way to participate in John Paul II's beatification. My answer, though, was not completely convincing–not even for myself. A few days later, we received the letter in which you invited the entire Movement to take part in the beatification. Your judgment brought unity where I had seen separation. In fact, the alternative between Rimini and Rome had found space in me because of my reduced view of both events. I was forced to ask myself why I wanted to go to the Exercises, and I realized that it was exactly to make mine that passion for Christ that John Paul II witnessed so powerfully and relentlessly. In his person, I have seen the living sign of the presence of Christ, and in the Movement the way to fight the insidious tendency to fall into a routine.
Father Pierpaolo, Imola (Italy)