letters

Taking a step back
IN AWE OF A PRESENCE
If I had to summarize this past month in a sentence, I would say that the most fascinating thing has been the realization that all the struggles I am going through–moving far away from my home and starting a new job–are the way through which the Mystery is leading me on a path. Here in Sandy, south of Salt Lake City, there is a couple, Don and Kim, who met the Movement a few years back through Jonah Lynch’s parents. They have a School of Community group with two other people, whom they met distributing a flyer with the invitation to get together and work on Fr. Giussani’s book. Don and Kim let me stay with them when I first arrived here, and later they helped me find my own place. What’s striking is that my gratitude toward them for hosting and helping me is nothing compared to their gratitude for my mere presence–and I didn’t do anything at all. One of our School of Community members can play guitar a little; he usually shows up with the lyrics of a song he picks out of the parish songbook. I have my own take on what we should sing, and one time I proposed that we pick a song from the CL songbook. At the following School of Community, he showed up with a song sheet with the lyrics of...“Take Me Home, Country Roads”! I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I thought, “‘Country Roads’ at the beginning of School of Community! It would be better not to sing at all.” I was totally defined by my disappointment, but then I took a step back and just looked at them. Suddenly, I was in awe of the fact that, in the middle of nowhere, there were four people reading Fr. Giussani’s book. The annoyed look, that up to a moment before was painted on my face, turned into a smile. The more I observed them sing that song, the more moved I was for the presence of Christ among us. A friend of mine told me that virginity is this step back; it is this detachment from my own image of how things should be, allowing me to become aware of His presence. All of a sudden, I had changed, I was thankful for the presence of my friends. I started taking initiative at School of Community, while before I used to give up and stay silent–partly because of the language barrier, partly because I didn’t always understand the trajectory that our meetings ended up following. At that meeting, I was so taken and fascinated by Him, suddenly appearing among us, that I felt free to challenge everybody. In the past, surrounded by my friends, with the “perfect” community, the “perfect” songs, the “perfect” School of Community, there was no space left for becoming aware of, being in awe of, and being moved by His presence!
Laura, Salt Lake City (USA)

“Who are you?
and why do you sing?”
At the beginning of September, we took a ten-day school trip to Greece, with all the students of the public classical studies high schools of Piacenza (200 students and 20 teachers). One night, the majority of the kids went dancing, while those of us from GS (Student Youth)  decided to stay back to play cards. One of our teachers approached our table and said, “Yesterday, we heard  you sing at the Epidaurus amphitheater. Why don’t you sing something for us now?” With hesitation and not much enthusiasm, we decided to sing just a couple of songs and go back to our table. We went to get the guitar and our song books, and we joined the teachers. Without any planning, it became one of the most engrossing and exciting sing-alongs ever. We sang “La Bella la va al Fosso” (a traditional song about a beautiful girl wooed by a suitor as she is washing clothes at the fountain–our Greek teacher gave a masterful rendition of the girl), other Italian songs, “Salelaca Mokonzi” (we had the teachers sing parts), “Swing Low,” “My Bonnie,” and many other songs. We would have gone on forever. Very unexpectedly, some of the students who were coming back from the club joined our singing. We closed the evening explaining and singing some of the songs of our CL history, like “Ojos de Cielo” by the Argentinean songwriter Victor Heredia, and “La Notte che ho Visto le Stelle” by Claudio Chieffo. Our teachers, in particular our Greek teacher, were in awe and kept asking for more. That night, we met Agostino, one of the kids who joined us, and later he asked us, “Who are you? Why do you sing?” We told him about our companionship, about GS, and about what the beauty of singing together means to us. He asked to be invited to our meetings; he came to Beginning Day and now we are friends. On top of everything else, we started a beautiful friendship with our Greek teacher. During a prayer meeting that he organized, he told us, “I want to thank you, because you are helping me through some painful circumstances.”
Anna, Federica, Elisa,
Piacenza (Italy)

“Without faith, sacrifice would be worthless”
After Beginning Day, delivering a box of groceries to one of the families we support through the Food Bank initiatives, I realized that there was something different about this family. I went back a couple of days later, to try to understand. Their financial situation is truly disastrous. As the mother was crying–saying she was at the end of her rope, and wondering what she had done to deserve it–I told her what Fr. Carrón said at Beginning Day. The words were flowing out of me like a swollen river; I told her that all the difficult circumstances we face are not a punishment, but an opportunity to grow and to reach the core of our being, the “You.” I was deeply struck by all those things I was telling that woman, because I could see their truth in my own life–which is surely easier than hers.  What was not that easy was repeating those words to a person who is so “hungry.” Her answer came as a shock. She said, “If I didn’t have faith, all these sacrifices would be worth nothing. I would not barter my life for a more superficial one. Faith, and the love I feel for my daughter and my husband, are a great gift.” This woman always had a troubled life; her family can’t help her with her child because her father is an invalid, and her husband is a construction worker who has difficulties finding employment, and who at times doesn’t get paid even when he does find jobs. Her life is spent trying to pay off debts, with no space for any fun or for a relaxing vacation. Her faith, though, has always been rock steady; it has always been a certainty, unwavering even when the longed-for pregnancy was not coming. In front of her deep faith, her open heart, and her great humanity, I was thankful because I suddenly understood what School of Community is for. It helps me to find the correspondence between what we say and what happens in my own life, and to find the face of Jesus.
Sabrina, Italy

The Second Honeymoon of Paul and Nicoletta
Dear Father Carrón: Weeks ago, the Montréal Community lost Paul. We prayed fervently to Fr. Giussani for Paul’s healing. Our prayers were answered with another miracle: Paul’s continued conversion and the grace of intelligence. When Paul learned of his illness one year ago, he immediately asked to join the Fraternity of CL. For over 20 years, he had faithfully followed his wife, Nicoletta, to School of Community, as well as to the “Petite École,” which Nico animated for our children. At our hikes, he was always at the very end of the line, carrying the youngest child on his back and making sure that no one was left “stranded.” Now, at the end of his life, he recognized what he had received and wished to express it in a tangible form–belonging to that which he lived throughout his marriage to Nicoletta. During these last months, Christ was visible to all of us, by giving Paul and all of us an intensity in appreciating the totality of our existence. Paul and Nico joked about living their second honeymoon as she was constantly by his side during his several chemotherapy treatments and hospitalizations. Paul was the youngest of a family of five and, during his sickness, he wished to join his brother and sisters every Monday afternoon to watch them mending clothes for their grandchildren–he even overlooked the remodeling of a skirt for one of his daughters. When his appetite permitted, he insisted on gathering friends together to eat his favorite foods. We discovered Paul’s love of art and music. Our friendship with him became evermore precious with simple gestures such as going for a walk along the river and stopping when he needed to take a breath. The week before he died, in the presence of his wife and another friend, Paola, he read the article in Traces on Cardinal Martini (Vol. 14, No. 8 2012), focusing on where he talked about total abandonment. Paul, visibly moved, looked up and said, “this is exactly what I am living.” Although, at times, his humanity was expressed with tears of sadness, he would say with conviction, “Be confident; I am going to the best place one can go to.” On the day of his funeral, our Community radiated with the grace of the gift which we received–Paul’s life and testimony. The church was filled to capacity with friends, family, and colleagues and vibrated with songs of a people who individually have been struck by Fr. Giussani’s charism and familiarity with Christ, to whom we entrust Paul’s soul.
Anna Maria, Montréal (Canada)

Coming down from the high horse
Dear Fr. Julián: I have to face serious difficulties at work, where a management mistake risks to ruin everything that we have built, and at home, because of my wife’s health. My instinct would be to rebel, on account of what might look like real motivations. Nonetheless, the work of School of Community with my friends in the Movement is constantly teaching me to look at these circumstances as a possibility to say “I,” to face reality and discover its meaning and, therefore, to ask Christ to show Himself. I am beginning to understand that what these circumstances ask for is not so much the ability to come up with a correct judgment, but the willingness to delve into reality. Unless I do this, I realize I will not be able to embrace my wife, my bosses, and my coworkers–whom I have always criticized, as if I wasn’t a poor man just like they are poor. I realize I am beginning to delve into life,  coming down from my high horse. I can see the fruits of this new attitude, because my work has become more productive, and my days fuller. Compared to my previous tendency to just complain, it’s a whole new life.
Francesco, Italy

A “hole” filled by His presence
Dear Fr. Julián: A month has passed since my friend Francesca went to Heaven (Traces, N. 9, Vol.14). I understood so little of what was going on during this last year of her illness–I think it will take my whole life, but I have time. The morning after her death, I finally realized what we mean when we talk about “presence.” For a whole year–every hour of every day–I had lived  in front of her presence.  Her presence changed me: it changed the way I spend time when I drive in traffic (now I say the Rosary) and the way I plan the afternoons spent with my children and my free time; it changed the topic of my phone conversations  and the way I organize my bookshelves (to facilitate my choosing books for her to read), and even the way I participate in a parent/teacher conference. Her presence has monopolized the attention of my heart for a whole year, and has forced me to adhere to the present, to my moment of time in front of her moment of time. This happened without any effort or skill on my part, on account of her imposing presence. She simply existed. In fact, I felt a sharp and sudden pain every time I happened to forget about her, or to live as if she did not exist. What do we mean when we talk about the presence of Christ? What did I mean, up to a year ago? I now understand why you tell us that you can’t understand how we can live without Him, without hearing Him speak. With patience and tenderness toward myself, I ask to see the presence of Christ, and I still ask for the presence of my friend. I don’t want this “hole” that I felt after her death to be filled by anything but the presence of Christ, together with Francesca’s presence. I  understand now that they are inseparable, and they always were.
Paola, Italy

“I am made in His image”
Dear Fr. Julián: I come from years of drug addiction and jail, during which I have become aware that my method of searching for the Infinite was completely wrong. The Lord allowed me to meet the Movement through the Pinocchio rehab community. For the past two years, I have been following a path that I want to be on for the rest of my life. Yet the true miracle that I was granted is precisely what you always talk about, that is, that a crisis can be the possibility for a change, as long as I open up to the truth. A judgment is true if it puts me into motion. I am made for happiness, and the relationship with the Mystery is my salvation. What is happening to me–thanks to the awareness that it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me, and thanks to the encounter with the companionship of the Movement–is really extraordinary. For the past three years, I had lost touch with my five-year-old son; now I meet him every two weeks and he calls me “Dad.” I had lost touch for five years with my adoptive parents as well. After all the pain I put them through, I was welcomed back just like the prodigal son in the parable. In front of all these facts, I can’t but pray and ask Christ to make me become more and more saintly. I am a new man, with new emotions, and a new awareness of myself, which coincides with my faith. As far as I am concerned, this is the truth: I was made in His image, and I want to live life as vocation.
Federico, Italy

Driving to work with Mauro
The company I work for has been doing poorly for a while. In the past few days, I lost all my direct superiors, and it’s not over yet, because more people will be let go. These are tough times. Every morning in the car, my friend  Mauro and I discuss  the future of our company, but I realize that we are free from the possible outcome. Even if having to face these difficulties at work every day is hard, we realize that our point of reference is elsewhere. Mauro is not simply a travel companion, with whom every morning I pray the Angelus to entrust ourselves to Christ; we share life as well, and this is a grace. I am thankful for the path we followed this year. This grace seems even greater when I consider that I have been given a friendship that has been accompanying and supporting me through the years, making me look for Christ, and making me understand that my life is at stake and Christ lives in me.
Mauro, Italy