I think of Jean, I think of his mother,
of all the children who leave too soon and those who remain, who grow into adults, who bit by bit can no longer stay in their families, or have no family left...
I see so many Charlettes living peacefully into their old age. Charlette at Le Toit—L'Arche community in Belgium—knows that Marie Thérèse now has a home of her own, cherished and beloved, and from which no one will ever turn her away;
I meet the people of L'Arche—L'Arche was founded by Jean Vanier, a lay Canadian, in 1964 at Trosly, not far from Paris. Today it exists in many parts of the world. These are small communities where people with disabilities and those without live and work together, in the spirit of evangelical brotherhood, for all aspects of their lives. The purpose is to offer a place of peace and growth to those who for too long have been despised, rejected, abandoned. Many young people work there, committing themselves to stay for months or years. In France and some other countries, the State recognizes and supports them. And I perceive their inner joy, all of them, each in their own way...
And before me stand so many dear friends, from whom I receive so much, with whom I spend the most intense hours of my time: in silence, in play, through sleepless nights, feeding or changing diapers—it matters little. It matters little to anyone who has been blessed to meet these little ones, to anyone whose heart has been "wounded" by one of them...;
It matters little to the one they teach to recognize the presence of Jesus behind their twisted limbs or their cry...
So I ask myself: what is this friendship that binds us—me, you, your parents? Where will it lead? Where will it lead us? Where will we go, perhaps one day, together?
You have grown up, you are an adult now and need your own space, yet to your parents you remain the youngest of the house;
Or perhaps your parents are tired, worn down by worry and grief; or circumstances force you to leave home;
or you find yourself alone...
There are countless situations that call forth the presence of L'Arche in our hearts, of an SOS home, and countless ways that speak to me of Jesus's invitation to follow Him in this madness—the madness of going against the current, the madness of surrendering everything to Providence and undertaking a path beyond our human strength.
I think about it more and more. It seems the needs, the calls, the urgencies multiply every day. Perhaps it is our hearts that grow more vulnerable as time passes.
When we began the summer camp four years ago, our purpose, the spirit we wanted to live was this: "to show that between family life and an institution, there is another possibility: life with friends together, where everything is shared, everything in peace and serenity because we believe we are all brothers and sisters, children of the same Father...". The summer camp gave birth to the "little house"...
And now? The little house has become a weekly gathering, and this year we will hold five or six camps scattered across Italy. Slowly something is taking shape. And tomorrow? This life "together" might become something more stable and lasting: faithfulness to follow you, to welcome you beyond the Center during summer or holidays, to share with you every hour of my day.
An L'Arche begins from a precise need, born of the urgent necessity of this or that young person, perhaps someone we do not yet know. It is not "founded by some people" but "brought forth" through some people who answer a deep call—a call to faithfully carry forward the fruit of a friendship that already unites many of us; a call that has grown from prayer, from placing ourselves in God's hands as we walk this difficult path.
Community life is not easy. We must prepare ourselves gradually, preparing our hearts to listen and forgive, so we do not collapse after the first enthusiasm wears away. In giving birth to L'Arche, we can all contribute—we must all contribute, or it will never come to be—each of us walking together disinterestedly toward this goal, each ready to offer our own specific gift: presence, service and support, collaboration, encouragement, witness, respect and forgiveness, patience, silent prayer.
And when I see you, I think of the words of Jesus: the stone rejected by the builders becomes the cornerstone, the house built on rock, slowly and with effort, so it will not be swept away by wind. His will that we become instruments of His love. And the fragility of our works if they are not sustained by Him—because "unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain" (Psalm 126). If we try to build something only for ourselves, for my child, for that friend we get along with so well, it will always be a search for ourselves in one way or another, and therefore hardly lasting.
Maria Grazia Pennisi, 1979