01-06-2013 - Traces, n. 6

LETTERS

At the Fraternity Exercises
Like the first encounter

Dear Fr. Carrón: Once again, I attended the Fraternity Exercises. I met the Movement a long time ago. I was almost 16 when, sitting on a bench in Istria Square in Milan with a bunch of friends, looking at the summer sky, we started wondering about the meaning of life and of the existence of everything around us, and about who had created the universe. The “intellectual” of the group (unfortunately, some of us ended up going down the wrong path) stated with absolute certainty that man came from apes, yet he could not give a convincing answer to the question: “Fine, but who created apes?” Our discussion went on and on. A few weeks later, I accepted my sister’s invitation (she is a Memor Domini) to attend a community gathering. It was a Sunday afternoon, and with a group of young people we drove to a parish on the outskirts of Milan to play with some children. The evening of that same day, my heart was bursting with joy because of that experience. It was a kind of happiness I had never felt before, and that I could not put down in words. Just a few months later, I went to see Fr. Angelo Cassani, to tell him I intended to leave the group, because the joy of the beginning had vanished. In that moment, I could only perceive my presence there as a burden. I felt I was at a standstill–I was stuck, and all the initial enthusiasm was gone. Fr. Cassani told me: “This is a time of growth for you, because your freedom is called to give an answer, to say ‘yes’ in a reasonable and responsible way.” I decided  to stay. It was 1968, and many of us were leaving the Movement. I was a student-worker, and as such I faced both the turmoil of that period at school, and its more complicated and concrete implications in the work environment.  A few months after that, the guy who was leading the community came to say good-bye and said, “I am leaving because I no longer see the truth in all the words I have told you up to now.” I was particularly close to that person; through him, I had discovered the beauty of hiking, of friendship, and of a serious commitment to my studies. Unlike him, I realized that after my initial moment of doubt, I had verified that my life had been marked by the encounter with Christ–exactly what you reminded us of in Rimini, quoting Father Giussani. I had changed and I couldn’t deny that everything I had lived up to that point had been good for me. What I had encountered had been exactly everything I lacked and I had so fervently desired. It was the beginning of an experience of liberation. I am 60 now, and in Rimini I cried when you said, “At the beginning, it wasn’t like this.” It’s true. I didn’t stay on account of reasoning, or a political and social analysis that some of us strived to carry to the political and social arena of those years; I stayed because the truth of my “I”–an “I” that had been called by name just like Zacchaeus’–had come to meet me and had become experience. At the Fraternity Exercises, that first encounter happened again. Everything has been made new, and my life is now wonderful and interesting again.
Claudio, Italy

in the tornado/1
God is good...  all the time

When a natural disaster such as the May tornadoes happens, it seems an almost universal reaction to want to be sure our loved ones are safe (I am a wife and mother of 11, and grandmother of 6). As the storms moved into the area, I wanted to know where each of my children were. On Sunday, May 19th, there was a tornado on the ground about 10 miles from our home, passing between our house and that of our son and pregnant daughter-in-law. It came within 4 miles of their home. We only knew its proximity by the TV coverage. We watched the TV as the tornado formed and moved into Moore, and headed in the direction of my son’s home, but by God’s grace the tornado dissipated before reaching it. What it left behind in Moore was masses of twisted wood and metal. Cars on top of broken buildings. Houses flattened. Shards of wood penetrating concrete curbs on the street. A medical center destroyed. Two schools were destroyed and others damaged. A woman about to give birth was suddenly looking at the theater next to the hospital as the building was torn open. Amazingly, although so many homes and businesses were destroyed, the death toll was not as large as might be expected. In the time since the tornadoes, there has been an outpouring of charity. People from all over the country and indeed the world have sent what they can to help. Every day, there are thousands of volunteers showing up to help with clean-up efforts, in collaboration with the local media. The day after the tornado, the deacon from our parish went to the home of  a 94- year-old woman. He found her sitting in her pick-up truck in front of her flattened home. She had also lost her home in the May 3, 1999, tornado. She says she will rebuild. When she arrived at the church with the deacon, the archbishop was there, and he reports that she pulled a fistful of large denomination bills out of her pocket and gave them to other victims and to the archbishop himself to help those in need! There are many such stories. What I see very clearly is that events like this one strip away people’s masks and bring our true humanity forward. It is a cause of great hope to see so many people wanting to help, and selflessly giving of their time and treasure for others. This morning, in his homily, our pastor said to those who would question and blame God for the death and tragedies, “If you want to blame Him for the bad you must also acknowledge Him and give Him credit for the good.” God is good... all the time. In times and situations like these, we truly come to see our dependence and God’s mercy.
Michelle, Noble, OK (USA)

In the tornado/2
A Swing in the destruction

On May 20th, the day the tornado hit, I was at work in Oklahoma City, in no danger. I streamed live footage of the tornado on my phone. When first seeing footage of the damage, I was in shock. I knew the area so well I could drive through it with my eyes closed. I knew people who lived in that area and I realized immediately that I had to get out there and help them. The city of Moore shut down following the tornado; no one was allowed in. With the help of my older brother Tyler, he and I were finally able to get in to volunteer three days after the tornado tore through. One of the first things I noticed while volunteering was the mood of the survivors. Yes, you could see the sadness in their faces, but they were so thankful to be alive  that losing everything really didn’t matter. When you are placed in a situation like that, you understand more what it means to live. Almost every survivor said that it was only by the grace of God that they survived, and while the tornado was tearing apart everything around them, they prayed, not only for themselves but also for everyone they knew. There have been countless things that I have experienced in the hours of volunteer work, but one experience in particular will stay with me for the rest of my life. The first day I went out, I was taken to one of the hardest hit neighborhoods. As I walked down the street, I saw an old man and his wife stumbling out of the remains of their two-story home. The majority of the house had been blown away but the kitchen was completely intact. Each was carrying a box and walking slowly toward their driveway. I ran to them to help. They explained they wanted to save the fine china that they had in their cabinet. I walked with the old man into his home, and we started going through the china and other dishes, leaving some and taking some. With each dish that he would have me put in a box, he would tell me a short story as to how they came by that dish. When we had sorted through the dishes, the man asked me to take a look at his back yard. Their huge mulberry tree had literally been twisted, as if it were a malleable twig. It was shocking; the wood wasn’t broken, just simply twisted. I saw a swing that was hanging from the tree, and he proceeded to tell me that the swing was made a few years back when a tree trimmer came and made it for his granddaughters. The granddaughters had even written their names on the bottom of the swing. It was very clear that he wanted that swing. We tried desperately to remove it but the rope was so tight it couldn’t be untied. The old man decided it was impossible to get it. However, knowing how much it meant to him, I was determined not to leave his property until I got the swing down.  I said a quick prayer, and then I  noticed a large pair of garden sheers lying in the mud. The sheers cut through the rope like it was butter and in seconds I was holding the swing. I immediately ran to the front of the house in excitement and showed the man what I had. He looked up, and the moment his eyes saw the swing in my hand they swelled up with tears. “Oh, may God bless you, bless you, son, bless you,” he said. I was incredibly moved and honored to be able to bring this man such happiness. It was this moment that keeps me going out there in the heart of the destruction. Overall, this experience has restored my faith. During Mass, the priest of my parish said, “The storms of last Monday blew away more than roofs and entire homes. They blew away the mask from the nature of human kind.” It is in our nature to help others, and to be compassionate. This I have seen so clearly. I truly believe this is how humanity was made to be. 
Conner, Oklahoma City (USA)

Six jobs in six years
In the past six years, I’ve had six different jobs, and my small group of Fraternity has been by my side through it all. As we learned, the task of the companionship in fact is not to solve the problems of the person, or to take the place of the person in his everyday choices, but to help the person face every circumstance in the right position. I found myself changing jobs both for external reasons and for professional opportunities that presented themselves and that would have bettered my family’s financial situation. In both cases, the companionship has always helped me to keep asking and remain open. During a moment of discouragement, when I found myself in need of a new job again, I asked a friend of mine, “What does the Lord want from me?” He answered, “Everything.” His words are a challenge to respond to my vocation, even when I find myself in work environments that may seem arid–like the technical/financial ones, where you are asked to perform in-depth analyses, keeping costs to a minimum. It has become clearer and clearer to me that the various circumstances that I confront are a journey “in search of the human face,” which, first and foremost, is my own face that has been changed, so as to allow His face to shine through.
Stefano, Padua (Italy)

The Holy Spirit is not something that flies around
This letter was written by a girl before receiving the Sacrament of Confirmation.
At catechism for the past few years, we did many things: among others, we talked about God and the prophets, and we played. Something that really struck me was that God, that is, happiness or sadness, was always present in every moment of my day, just like my catechism teachers told me. This past year, something really sad happened to me, but I was able to face it quite courageously, thanks to all those who have been by my side. As others did with me, I understood that I have to support all those who are in need of help, even those I don’t know so well. I made a vow to help all those in need, but I realized that sometimes I can’t or don’t do it. For this reason, I am asking God for the Sacrament of Confirmation, so that He will help me stay close to people, even those I don’t know or I don’t like that much. I understand that God is always with me, and has allowed my father’s death for a great reason (that is, for my own good), even though I don’t  completely understand what that is. The Holy Spirit is not a dove flying around in the sky; it is a gift of God that enters my heart to increase the intelligence with which I do things, I move, and I use my reason.           
Elisa, Italy

“At  that  table, I felt I was with family”
For the past two years–at a correctional facility in Padua, where I am serving time–my friends and I took up a spiritual journey. This year, I attended the Spiritual Exercises of Communion and Liberation in Rimini. It was my first time, and I have to admit that it was a fantastic and unique experience. For sure, somebody like me could appreciate even just the beauty of being “free,” even though I had the choice to go visit my family. I decided to participate in this experience instead, and I can tell you that I would do it again. At the beginning, I didn’t feel very confident; I was afraid to be inadequate, or more, I was afraid of not being up to that great event. On the contrary, once there, I immediately felt at ease, as if I were with family. I met a lot of people for the first time, and yet it felt like I had known them for my whole life. I don’t know what happened–I can’t really explain it to myself–but it did happen. During the retreat, we spoke about Christianity and we touched upon very important issues–like the shame we feel for our sins–but what really struck me happened on the last day. On our way back to Padua, we stopped at a restaurant for lunch. I was with about 30 friends, most of whom I had met that same day. By chance, the restaurant was hosting a couple of First Communion parties. I instantly noticed a detail. The people at our table–inmates, judges, social workers, lawyers, and so on, all with joy in their eyes–looked like a real family, while the gatherings at the other tables, where people were actually related to each other, where marred by a certain sadness, and an ostentatious behavior. In our simplicity, there was a serenity and a reciprocal love that left me dumbfounded. This is what happened to me, and later my fellow inmates confirmed that they felt the same things around that table on May 5th. Will I, someday, be able to give an explanation for everything that happened?
Gianni, Padua (Italy)

Heaven among the trash cans. The inauguration of the new AVSI help center was a day filled with beauty and His presence, for us and for all the friends who came from Italy to convey the embrace of our history and our companionship. In his homily, the Apostolic Nuncio told us how evident it is here that the courage of faith can make heaven appear even in the midst of piles of garbage. He reminded us how this place, once a city garbage plant, has become a Paradise, or something close to Paradise, both for the beauty of the location, and because it was generated by the courage of faith, that is, from a Presence that shines through the faces of those who live in this structure. He told us he was embracing us on behalf of Pope Francis, who desires a Church that is poor among the poor. He added that this center and all those who live here are on the same page with the Holy Father, and that is why he loves to come here. He thanked everyone: the kids who attended our center through the years, those who were present, and those who were not here anymore, but who were part of our history. He closed saying that this is the Church. At the end, after blessing the local population and attending the inauguration party, he invited himself for pizza on the following Tuesday. He showed up with his secretary and with Father Marino, from the Miami CL community. Once again, we experienced the breadth of the Church. The following Saturday, our Italian friends were scheduled to depart, and during the final Mass, Fr. Franco, a pastor from Novara, said, “We don’t need to tough it out, we need to love Christ.” This is our new starting point, or better, we will keep walking on account of this embrace of the Church, that teaches us to love Christ.
Sister Marcella, Haiti