The Village Without Barriers is a small residential community for people with disabilities, their families, friends, young people, groups, conscientious objectors, associations—and many, many children.
Yes, plenty of children. Several families donate their time here, and they bring their whole families with them. The children often become the Village's natural "therapists" and "animators."
You may have noticed I haven't used the word VOLUNTEERS. I don't like it. Here we are all Friends—with a capital F (or at least we try to be). Each person gives the other time, warmth, and friendship—two words that echo through every corner of the Village. They are the watchwords of the project and vision of the founder, Don Mario Campidori. He has lived with a disability for many years, caused by illness, and from that experience came his idea to do something for and with people with handicaps. His project began in 1974, surrounded by enterprising young friends. The first proposal was simple: to give special attention to people and to share moments of prayer and play together, involving everyone.
In those days, gatherings happened every Sunday at different parish churches. The heart of these gatherings—then and now—has always been prayer (Mass and the Rosary), a shared meal, and time together. What happened then continues to happen today, every Sunday, except during the summer months.
Don Mario's vision was to build a village free of all architectural, psychological, and cultural barriers—a place where people could truly share life together.
Don Mario and his friends went to Rome to the tomb of Pope Pius XII and placed their trust in him. It wasn't long before the donations began to arrive—the first great miracle! With those gifts, they began to build on a hillside. Starting with a small parcel of land, they gradually created several apartments and studio units, an activities and gathering space (a bar area and lounge), a dining hall, a chapel, a small game room for children and another for adults, gardens, and a central "plaza" for games, entertainment, and prayer. There stands the statue of Mary Assumed into Heaven, the Village's patroness. Devotion to Mary led to the founding of the Community of the Assumption—a Church-recognized community dedicated to prayer and service to people with disabilities.
But back to life in the Village.
The air there is indescribable. I first breathed it in at sixteen; I'm twenty-three now, and it has never left me. When I discovered the Village, I was a teenager living by routine—the same rhythms, the same things, always at the last minute.
Then, by chance, I ended up at the Village in June of 1992. The memories are still fresh. Until then, the world of disability was something completely foreign to me. Like most people on their first visit, I thought I was there to do something noble for the year. But that's not what happened. From the moment I stepped out of the car, I was drawn in.
My first encounter was Luca. He was in a wheelchair, but he moved his legs and pushed himself toward me—head down, an enormous napkin fixed around his neck, his arm raised, pointing, with a fistful of flowers clutched in his hand. I didn't understand at first, but that beautiful gesture was his way of saying "WELCOME AMONG US." Giving flowers is one of his most beautiful gestures.
In that moment, my ordinary life—ruled by the same script—began to turn new pages, even ones I would have called chaotic. Minutes later I met other "chaotic scripts," and my life filled more and more with the fuel of vitality—something I've drawn on ever since, in good times and bad.
The Village operates in twenty-day shifts during the summer and in week-long sessions during other holidays.
A typical day follows a rhythm of shared moments. Those who are able start at 8 with a greeting to Mary and morning prayers. Then comes a generous breakfast. After that, some help others get up; some lead songs, conversations, or games; some prepare the Mass—until 11, when those who wish gather in the chapel.
Around 12:30, lunch is served—some eat in their apartments, others in the dining area. The meal is served with help from EVERYONE. Another vital moment is the afternoon and evening ACTIVITIES, shared by all and requiring everyone's cooperation. Tournaments, games, workshops of every kind, beauty salons, singing, dancing—they always bring tremendous joy. These are beautiful moments of connection.
Before bed, there's a gathering where Stefano, Massimiliano, and Alina (some of those enterprising young friends I mentioned earlier) lead a guided conversation where we reflect together. Then everyone heads to bed to "recharge the battery."
Much has changed over the years. Now there's a project to create a residential village based on this one's ideals. We trust in prayer for this too. If God wills it, this idea will take shape. We hope so! If you can, please pray that this work will come to be.
by Mascia Lenzi, 1999
Mascia is twenty-three, lives in Cento in the province of Ferrara, and is a student of Education Sciences at the University of Bologna.
Learn more at
https://www.fondazionecampidori.it/
