"Villa Patrizi" in Rome — Enrica Nucci
As we planned our group's activities for the new year, we felt it was important to draw all parents into a more active presence and participation. We believed that Faith and Light should create a fresh way of being together—not just as friends, but as members of the same families.
Some mothers suggested we take on a project that would teach the young people a useful skill for their futures. Ideas flew around: paperwork, wool crafts, decorations, photo frames, bookbinding. We had no shortage of possibilities.
The Sisters at Villa Patrizi generously gave us a room where we could set up a small workshop. Soon we had nearly ten people working there—mothers and young people together. We started before Christmas, thinking we'd make ornaments for the holiday tree with our own hands. It worked beautifully. Then, as often happens when courage and goodwill are present, Providence stepped in. A man named Vittorio arrived and offered to teach us leather work. A friend of Augusta's brought materials and tools. We were thrilled. We threw ourselves into gathering what we needed to complete the workshop.
The first expenses were steep, but fortunately our bags, keychains, and pouches sold well. That income let us keep going. The young people worked brilliantly, earning real money and seeing tangible proof of their labor. That mattered.
We also began something different: meditative readings from the Old and New Testaments. This grew out of a simple problem. Many families couldn't attend evening meetings in different homes. But some parents hungered for a shared meditation experience. So we turned again to Villa Patrizi—central, accessible to everyone. About twice a month, while friends kept the young people engaged with music and drawing, a small circle of parents gathered with Robert, whose Christian depth guided our reading into prayer. Two different experiences, both valuable. We mean to continue both and make them better in the year ahead.
"Saint Joachim" in Rome — Lucia Pennisi
I'm grateful for what we've done this year. Our activities weren't unusual, but everyone brought real commitment and joy to them. We tried hard to plant ourselves in the parish, though tiredness caught up with us and our good intentions flagged. Still, we showed up for Mass each time we met. That first time, we were terrified—afraid of stares, afraid we'd be asked to leave so we wouldn't disturb anyone, afraid the priest would refuse to give communion to E. But we were also brave. We knew this was something we had to do together, and soon, because too many young people had been shut out of communal worship for too long. The Spirit stood with us. Despite some rough moments, it went far better than we dared hope.
What I want to highlight is how often we gathered in small, unplanned ways. A birthday party at someone's house. A confirmation. A pizza night where we'd become regulars. These weren't formal meetings. They were vital—joyful and pleasant, yes, but more than that. They showed a deepening bond. They held the group together and helped us all mature.
I want to thank everyone. Thank you, Marco, for always pointing us toward Christ. Thank you to the parents who pushed themselves to come despite the daily exhaustion. (We hope you'll come even more!) Thank you to our friends, young and old. And above all, thank you with all our hearts to our brothers and sisters who are fragile. They walked with us. Their presence reminded us why we gather. They moved us beyond our laziness and small thinking.
"Ascension" in Rome — Rita Ozzimo, Donatella Malvezzi
Our group has about thirty people—parents, children, and friends—plus a priest who follows us closely, as much as his work in a working-class parish allows. This year's program was intensive, and with everyone's help, we pulled it off. The parish welcomed us warmly. We met in their hall once a month and did all kinds of activities: games, singing, mime, skits. We always ended by going to Mass with the parish, usually celebrated by our priest, sometimes by others who were equally warm to us. In November, we joined the Sunday Mass with other Faith and Light groups from Rome. We also spent an entire day at the Nazareth center, eating, singing, playing together. Family gatherings happened too. After that first one, both we friends and the families wanted more time together to know each other better.
We had chances to join other Rome groups at events: the Festival of Light, the Spring Festival. The closeness, the joy, the simplicity of how we began—all of it planted a desire in us, young and old alike. We wanted to spend two full days outside Rome. Not to end the year, but to keep walking together in peace and joy. The Sisters at the Nazareth house in Fiuggi welcomed us like we were everything. Two days full of emotion and happiness: Don Pierino's words to the children, Maria's First Communion, Sabrina's birthday, Paolo's words—each moment touched all of us.
The parish meetings have ended now, but our journey continues. We have many plans, though nothing's decided yet. We hope to bring in more parents next year to help with planning.
The best thing that happened was watching fathers show up at parish meetings. At first they didn't feel at home there. But through family gatherings, we deepened our friendships. That changed things. Over time, our friends wanted more chances to see the families outside scheduled meetings. The children stayed, played, sang. A real bond grew.
"Saint Anne" in Rome — Mimmo Cuda
Saint Anne's is a young group—it split off from the large Saint Joachim community last year. I can say our year has been very good. We started nervous and uncertain. But we've not only grown in numbers; our existing bonds have tightened. We feel deeply united. Most of our young people are older and fairly independent, so we built the year around activities that move us—outings, travel, action.
We took three trips: to Bassano Romano, Carpineto, Civitavecchia. Everyone said they were beautiful and brought us closer. Our mornings at the small house were always about exploring the city—the historic center, the Roman Forum. At Carnival we threw a small party where the young people acted out skits. We also met four times at the parish hall of Saint Joseph on the Triumphal Way.
I should say that parish involvement isn't a high priority for some parents and friends here. They question why we should go to a distant parish when everyone could join their own local one. Our friends especially feel the sting that the priests don't approve of our singing and guitars at Mass. The priests have been generous with space and support otherwise. We've met new families. And it's only fair to say we're still new to this parish—we started with the Mass we led for the other groups in January.
I think it would help to have a text, some reflection to discuss together about why belonging to a parish matters.
Once a month all year, we held prayer meetings rotating through family homes. A time of joy. A time of reflection with readings that included the young people. These prayers became one of the most beautiful parts of our life together. They helped us feel close. At first we had fifteen people. By the end, nearly thirty. Parents have asked us to keep meeting monthly through the summer, so we will.
We want to witness to the other groups about how valid and beautiful these prayer meetings are. They're moments of communion where we gather with special attention and joy around our youngest members.
We also want to witness to the efforts we've made to welcome, to trust, to draw near those who have walked this beautiful path with us.