After weeks of longing and anticipation, the day finally came: I was leaving for a month-long stay at L'Arche in Trosly, a small town in France near Compiègne.
Since I returned, people have asked me constantly what L'Arche is. My parents asked. Other parents asked. Friends asked. Even acquaintances I barely knew by sight wanted to understand.
The question was harder to answer than I expected. So I decided to start differently: by telling you what I did there, how it connects to Faith and Light, and why I went at all.
When I arrived in that modest country town after a tiring journey, people greeted me with a simple "bonjour" or a handshake and a smile, always asking my name and where I was from. This is how I came to the foyer of "Grande Source"—a house that welcomes newcomers.
Trosly is home to many people of all ages, living together in different homes, each carrying different challenges or disabilities. They live as a community, bound by friendship.
I wanted to share, even if only for a few weeks, the life they lived—their spirit, which is the same as Faith and Light's, because both were born from one man: Jean Vanier.
What did I do there? The routine was simple. Mornings, we all worked from 8:30 to noon, and afternoons from 2:00 to 5:40. Some worked with mosaics, some in the decorative garden, some in the vegetable garden. Others completed tasks that factories had contracted out. I worked in ceramics.
We made vases in countless shapes—ashtrays, trays, place settings, cups, glasses—all destined for an exhibition in Paris in mid-November.
Four afternoons a week, Mass was held for those who wished to attend. It was magnificent to see how many came each day, with such simplicity and willingness to be present.
Those moments were the most important for me. It was then I truly understood the power of communion, of sharing—where not just I, but all of us, are clay and God is the potter. We are vessels, yes, like the pots for plants, but empty, hollow inside. We need only listen to God's word to be filled with His love. How else can we love our brothers and sisters? How else can we live in harmony, not just with them but with our Father?
I learned that wherever the Lord is present, any difficulty, any discouragement, any sorrow becomes bearable—only through Him. It was in the smallest among us that I saw the presence of the living Christ.
Every day brought something new and unexpected: an invitation to lunch or dinner at another foyer, visiting guests, meeting people from so many different countries, speaking so many languages. But what does that matter? A smile was enough. An "Alleluia" sung together—that is international.
Now that I am here in Rome, what remains is not just the memory of L'Arche and so many friends—miraculous and wonderful as that is—but also a deep strength, a joy to do things and to bring to my brother, whoever he may be, even a single gesture or a single word, as Jesus taught us by living among us.
Francesca Mancini, 1978
