I want to share with you a long journey—the joy and emotion of one extraordinary day when my daughter Adea received the sacrament of Confirmation at St. Paul's Cathedral in Tirana.
Adea Maria was born on February 19, 1994, in Bilisht Kora. When we left the hospital, we had no clear sense of how she was developing: she wouldn't take milk, slept almost constantly, and we were worried about the premature delivery. As she grew, it became clear that her development was not progressing normally. We began one appointment after another. Adea had a urinary tract defect, and later we discovered a smaller kidney that wasn't functioning. We were devastated, but we had to move forward. When she turned two, the doctor told us—with evident sadness—that Adea also had developmental problems. We needed to see a specialist. In that moment, I felt my legs trembling. It was terrifying to hear… what could we do? She was the first person to tell me, but I had to be strong and keep going. My husband and I faced everything life placed before us. At nearly three, a psychiatrist diagnosed Adea with moderate intellectual disability (at that time, the term "autism" did not exist in Albania).
In the summer of 1996, Franciscan sisters arrived in our city. We watched them with curiosity—we had never seen nuns before. They came to live in our building, and through that, we got to know them well, developed a good relationship, and shared our troubles. That same period, my brother died in a car accident at just twenty-six. I was in a very dark psychological place. I was exhausted physically. I had to work, and Adea needed me so much; my younger son was demanding attention too because he was about to start first grade. And there was the whole family to care for. The sisters tried to be near me, to help and advise me. They told me to stay calm: "We are praying for you and Adea." I would take my daughter and go to Mass every day. The sisters asked if I was Orthodox; I answered that I was Bektashi, but I liked the Catholic faith. "Why do you like it?" they asked. "Because the Catholic faith has evolved," I thought of the economic development in Catholic countries. In my family, my father was a teacher and an atheist; my mother, when I turned ten, told me to go to the mosque and light candles. In the village where I was born, most of the population was Muslim and a minority Orthodox, but we always lived in harmony. I remember that at Easter, we children would go collect daisies to make wreaths.
Meanwhile, Adea grew. At almost four, she walked with great difficulty and hadn't spoken a single word. I shared my worries and troubles with the sisters. They invited me to bring Adea to gatherings they organized for other children, but it was very difficult for her—almost impossible to participate.
One day the sisters asked me to take her to Italy for a medical visit. I would have to go with her and leave my family, my younger son Geri, and everyone else. God gave me strength to face that situation. We left by car. The drive was long. Adea couldn't tolerate it—we had to stop constantly. When it was time to leave again, she wouldn't get back in the car, crying and very agitated. After many difficulties, we finally arrived in Palermo at the sisters' house, where they welcomed us warmly. After a two-week hospital stay, at four and a half, Adea began speech therapy and physical therapy. We found a kindergarten with typically developing children, and a sister cared for Adea with great devotion. She was so happy she could barely wait to go, and every Sunday we attended Mass together. Christmas was approaching. I took Adea every day—first to kindergarten, then to therapy—and I was working too. The sisters asked if I wanted to have Adea baptized. Yes, I said. It happened on December 19, 1998. The sisters organized a beautiful celebration with many friends. Then we celebrated Christmas and New Year. Adea had adjusted very well to kindergarten and therapy. I was pleased because I could see something was changing. I would have liked to stay in Palermo, but the paperwork for permission would take a long time, and my family in Albania needed me, especially Geri. So after nine months, we returned to Albania.
Where we lived, Adea had no way to continue therapy or attend kindergarten, so we decided to move to Tirana because we had learned of a public special school there. My daughter attended this school from age six to eighteen, but without visible improvement.
After school ended, Adea stayed home for nearly two years. Then she participated in a project for two years, after which she was home again. Through Caritas, I was directed to a center run by the sisters in Tirana—managed by Sister Maria and Sister Elena in collaboration with a French colleague. Beyond the setting, I liked the center because the work was professional and devoted; it functioned like a family. Two wonderful young women, Ilda and Albina, cared deeply for all the young people at the center, which closed after six months. Soon after, we discovered the Faith and Light community, and we loved it. There were many friends and young people who care for us. We participate regularly in the gatherings. Many young people organize different activities. We share our experiences and our problems, like one big family.
That was roughly the path we began in Palermo. But with Baptism, we had stopped halfway. Adea wanted to go to church for Confirmation. We went, and Sister Tina and the parish priest, Don Mariani, welcomed us warmly and lovingly. Every Saturday I brought her to the cathedral for catechism. My daughter met many young people preparing for Confirmation. But I worried: would she be able to follow the catechism, or would she be a distraction to the others? Sister Tina was an excellent catechist. Adea listened attentively to God's word.
The day of Confirmation was approaching, and we had to choose a sponsor. It was difficult because, coming from a family with Muslim tradition, I had no Catholic relatives, and everyone in our neighborhood is Muslim. In the end, we asked Albina, who had walked a path of faith for years. She is a good young woman who loves Adea and accepted the role with great joy. On June 9, 2019, it was a special emotion for me to see my daughter among that large group of young people receiving the sacrament of Confirmation. I didn't sleep all night, anxious about whether something might go wrong. "Stay calm," Albina had told me. "Trust everything to Him who is greater than we are. We can do nothing but trust in Him." And truly, that is what happened. Surrounded by her Faith and Light friends, with her sponsor Albina and her teacher Ilda, Adea was doing wonderfully. She was smiling, her eyes shining, her heart beating fast with joy. After the ceremony, we celebrated in the Caritas offices. My daughter was the happiest of all—looking at the gifts and her friends, embracing everyone, floating as if in a dream.
I want to thank God for giving me strength to face all these difficulties. I thank everyone who has helped and supported Adea over all these years—the Caritas staff, Sisters Maria and Elena, the large Faith and Light family with all our friends and young people, Albina and Ilda, who worked with professionalism and love. Thank you, and may God bless you all.
