Contents:
- As a Man and as a Doctor
- For Us from Mazara
- Never Destroy What He Has Given Us
- A Terrible Thing
- Making the Nearly Impossible Possible
- Eyes Ready to Discover Him
- "What Do You Want Me to Do?"
- I Felt Richer
- I Know I Will Never Forget
- They Did What They Could
1. As a Man and as a Doctor Back to top
Thank you, good Jesus. Thank you, Saint Francis. Thank you to those who organized the gathering of Faith and Light communities in Assisi.
A special thanks to the brothers and sisters with disabilities and to their beloved families.
This heartfelt gratitude comes from a humble doctor invited by the Bari community to take part, for the first time, in this pilgrimage.
I went to Assisi as a friend and physician, worried that I would need to care for and treat brothers and sisters in need of my medical skills. Instead, I must confess: I was the one who received care from the participants—especially from the smallest, the most vulnerable, those made fragile by mental and physical disability.
It was unforgettable because I arrived in Assisi convinced I would give and give again. I left knowing I had received far more than I offered, enriched by the truest human wealth: love.
What struck me most was realizing that such wealth had been given to me freely—by those who appeared poorest, most humble, most fragile.
Though they had never seen me before, never received anything from me, they reached out their hands with tenderness and love. They offered me kisses, caresses, smiles. With every gesture, cry, and whisper within their power, they showed me how deeply they cared.
Moved by such genuine, freely given, authentic love, I could not help but kneel before the Crucifix and reflect—deeply, at length—both as a man and as a physician.
As a man, I came to know that God is love. The smallest among us, together with their tried families, hold a special place in the heart of Jesus. Through them, the path to salvation is opened to us. They are the ones who can lead us to Jesus.
As a physician, my reflections were far longer and stirred serious concerns in me. I felt myself diminished and more accountable. I looked back on my past and saw how many times I had failed my calling.
How many times I had worked with a cold, detached heart, easing my patients' physical suffering—well, perhaps—only to leave as quickly as possible. I had behaved like a mechanic fixing an object.
Contrite, on my knees, I understood the true and profound value of suffering. I asked forgiveness from God, from our beloved Mother in heaven, from Saint Francis—for all I failed to do and all I did poorly in the past.
by Domenico Mazzilli (Bari)
2. For Us from Mazara Back to top
I wish I could say everything, because so many beautiful things happened—so many "mysterious and miraculous" things, as Agata said. For us from Mazara, this was our first pilgrimage as a group.
After fourteen hours by train with sleeper cars, five more hours by coach, and ten steps on foot, we arrived at the promised land!
Some reflections from those who came:
- "Beautiful... so beautiful," says Enzo (with an ear-to-ear grin)!
- "I was afraid. I didn't want to go. I thought it would be too tiring and demanding. But when it ended, I was sad to leave! The time was too short!"
- "I'd never been to Assisi. What a place! The very places helped me. Maybe they speak for themselves. After the initial restlessness and the fatigue of arrival—which I always feel—there was so much peace, so much serenity inside me."
- "The day of reconciliation with Jean Vanier was beautiful. He spoke with such simplicity and patience (through simultaneous translation) about wonderful things we should keep thinking about."
- "The meeting points were beautiful too. Mine was on 'forgiveness.' The simplicity and trust of the friends and parents who shared stories of forgiveness, confiding in everyone with complete peace, was beautiful."
- "I too found the most joy in Reconciliation. It gave me comfort and peace. I felt I had met Jesus in confession. Is it wrong to feel this way?"
- "More than anything, I loved the church of Saint Francis—the singing, the prayers."
There is no denying that for us the high point was Anna's first Communion. It moved us and filled us with joy.
It was somewhat a surprise, an enormous gift for Salvatore and Agata, who never imagined it could happen. A mysterious, miraculous gift for a child so profoundly disabled—for parents who have walked in Faith and Light and now feel closer to God and more committed. "Now I feel responsible," says Agata. "I know I must give testimony to my faith before others—for Anna too. She brought us to Jesus."
by Sr. Margherita Fortuna (Mazara del Vallo)
3. Never Destroy What He Has Given Us Back to top
I love Saint Francis because for him everything was "brother or sister." He spoke to the sun, the moon, the birds—even to wolves. For him, all were part of God's wonderful world.
When we went to church in Assisi, I loved singing with the others.
I received Communion and I prayed.
Now I pray like this: Dear Saint Francis, help us be good, love each other and help one another. Help us understand that the most beautiful and important things in the life God has given us are: the earth, the birds, all the animals, flowers, and fruit.
Make people understand that all these wonderful things are God's gifts to us, and that we must love Him, love each other, and never destroy what He has given us.
by Paola Caleprico (Naples)
4. A Terrible Thing Back to top
After a nearly sleepless night, I was steeling myself for the second-to-last day in Assisi. Claudia had been sick—retching, sneezing, restless in bed. I was almost losing patience. Tiredness is a terrible thing, especially for someone like me who is used to sleeping eight hours a night. Then I understood my selfishness, my inability to love someone who was suffering far more than I was—and who, in her deep loneliness, wasn't even asking for help. Filled with tenderness, I began to stroke Claudia's face and speak to her with love. Soon, face to face, hand in hand, she grew calm and breathed slowly and steadily. She brushed my cheek with her hand, kissed my forehead, rolled to her other side, and fell asleep. Thank you, Claudia. I love you! (How many times did you tell me that these past days? How many times did you think it? Countless times!).
I followed Jean, Claudia, all the small and large friends at Assisi, walking in the steps of Francis, not knowing, not imagining what my eyes would see and what my hands would find.
by Nicoletta Amato (Bari)
5. Making the Nearly Impossible Possible Back to top
Sunday, April 27, in Assisi. Carla says: "Why can't we stay here?" Gianna is sad and doesn't speak for the entire return journey. Franco, though, continues his pilgrimage sitting next to the driver, recounting the Assisi days to him (maybe we'll have a new friend, since the driver asked for our communities' addresses in Rome). And so it is with all our young people—each in their own way expressing joy. It is their joy that transforms a pilgrimage into a journey of faith and hope. It is in the light of their eyes that they say thank you to all the organizers, thank you to the friends, and sing Alleluia to the Lord for being part of such a meaningful gathering, following in Saint Francis's footsteps. More would be unnecessary. It is with them and for them that we manage to do what seemed nearly impossible.
by Fausta Guglielmi, Sant'Anna Community (Rome)
6. Eyes Ready to Discover Him Back to top
The moment I arrived in Assisi, Valeria greeted me with a joke: "Welcome back!"
I received so much. The formation of a model for priestly life matters deeply. The last three years of my seminary have been shaped by Faith and Light. We all know the smallest are at the center, at the heart of the community. One of Faith and Light's secrets is accepting others as they are, with their limits, difficulties, and failings—but also living in surprise. God works among us with surprises, and we must have eyes ready to discover Him.
I have tried to bring the spirit of Faith and Light into my parish. It is a living expression of the Gospel.
In 1983 I received a letter from Maria Grazia. She hadn't written since 1978. She told me that a family (Brunella and others) would be arriving in Monopoli looking for a home, and she wrote that a new Faith and Light community had been born in Bari.
It was a moment of profound joy.
by Don Vito Palmisano (Bari)
7. "What Do You Want Me to Do?" Back to top
Assisi, my first pilgrimage, left a deep mark on my life. Today I feel its weight in my daily choices.
Thinking back on those days lived with my friends in the spirit of poverty and simplicity of Saint Francis, I hear again the persistent question Brother Leo asks of Brother Francis: "Where is perfect joy?" And his answer still rings in me.
The moments the Lord gave me in Assisi were profoundly marked by one question: "Lord, what do you want me to do?" Saint Francis's answer to Brother Leo is harsh and severe. For me too, it is very difficult to accept insults and injury. Encounters with others sometimes trouble me and open painful wounds in my heart.
In Assisi I sensed God's good and fatherly presence. He took my difficulties, my uncertainties, my wounds and transformed them, giving me new confidence, new love. My hope became reality: a renewed Gianni comes home.
by Giovanni Melilli (Bari)
8. I Felt Richer Back to top
I thought it would simply be a chance to be with friends and share a time of prayer and reflection. Instead, it was an infinitely richer and more engaging experience. I cannot point to one particular moment because the entire time in Assisi mattered to me.
In Assisi I savored the joy of being together, of making "communion," and I am grateful to the young people, the parents, the friends—because they have helped me and continue to help me feel richer.
by Dada Molinari, San Francesco Community (Rome)
9. I Know I Will Never Forget Back to top
This was my first trip with Faith and Light. My fears about encountering difficulties or disappointment did little to dampen my enthusiasm before we left. Yet every expectation I had was surpassed. For the first time in my life, I breathed an atmosphere of joy shared by hundreds of other people all at once. It was as if I were witnessing love of neighbor—something I had often thought unreachable—become real.
Together we lived four days intensely, days that were truly exhausting. Yet the marks of physical tiredness vanished before the brightness in people's eyes, the words of joy, the affectionate presences we felt around us.
In such peace we faced practical problems without our spirits being shaken, because we lived in communion, illuminated by mutual love.
I thought that if all people could experience what we lived through, they would understand that hate and division are not natural consequences of the human condition but products of selfishness.
Perhaps the most moving encounter for me was with Nada, a Lebanese girl who had overcome great difficulties just to take part in the pilgrimage. She told me that the evening she arrived in Assisi, she was so exhausted she wanted to cry. But when she noticed that everyone was smiling at her and happy she was there, she felt suddenly alive again.
And what emotion to hear Jean Vanier's words coming from my own heart! I wanted to shout: "You are reading my soul, the part of myself I was afraid to look at and express!"
When it came time to leave, I said goodbye to the people I had met with the joy of saying "until we meet again." Even now, I carry them always with me.
I happened to help a girl, Daniela, settle into a car seat. She had difficulty moving and was trembling—perhaps with emotion too. I stroked her hands and she squeezed my fingers, telling me what she could not say in words.
When I think back on Assisi, the words of one of my favorite songs come to mind: "It doesn't matter what we got from this experience: I know we will never forget."
by Fabio Carrara (Milan)
10. They Did What They Could Back to top
The pilgrimage to Assisi was my first since joining Faith and Light. Being younger than twelve, I was in the children's group, and I understood that everyone did what they could to make the pilgrimage succeed. What I loved most was visiting the church of San Damiano, where a very kind friar explained and showed us the life of Saint Clare. That was a moment to think deeply. But the most beautiful moment was Friday's Mass, when Manuela D'Amico made her first Communion.
Another beautiful moment came on the last day when all of us released fifteen hundred balloons into the air. Launched by us alone, they would mean nothing. But released by all the Faith and Light communities across Italy, they meant all the love and joy shared among us.
by Maria Laura Magnanelli, San Francesco Community (Rome)