How did the latest Festival of Light go?
Anyone arriving at the Frères before the festival began might have thought they were watching an old Chaplin film—everyone spinning like tops, scrambling in circles. Toilet paper everywhere. Newspapers and rags scattered about. Bizarre costumes made of colored paper. Flags that would have made any navy squadron jealous.
Some were hanging drapes behind the orchestra. Others were testing musical instruments at the top of their lungs. Still others stood planted at their posts directing the parking lot—all while guests began arriving with their own contributions to the chaos.
I'll admit I was skeptical that anything good could come from all that commotion. How could it possibly turn into an afternoon of genuine joy, lived in friendship and brotherhood, with everyone serving everyone else?
Yet the miracle happened. At the roll of the drums—and the melodious singing of "Alleluia!"—a whirl of multicolored ribbons began the transformation.
On one side: a corner of old Siena on August 16th. Horses that were slightly lame—they could only run on two legs!—mounted by jockeys brimming with energy and, well, a bit on the heavy side. (F. weighed a modest 29 kilos, and with A. on her shoulders, she hardly looked like a dragonfly!) The Goose, the Snail, the She-Wolf, the Caterpillar, the Wave, the Tower, the Dragon, the Eagle—the contradas of the Palio itself would have envied our beautiful costumes, the fruit of so many evenings spent with scissors, glue, and a stapler.
Elsewhere: an "unlawful gambling den" with its carnival merchant, stacks of chocolate coins and candy at stake. The suspense in the air before drawing the winning card was the same as at San Remo or Monte Carlo. All we needed was a green felt table.
Another delightful moment came when, for once, we all sat down and the mothers took to the field to entertain us. Or at snack time, when fathers, grandfathers, uncles, and priests didn't hesitate to join in, wearing enormous white chef's hats to serve cake and orange juice.
Picture graceful women in wooden clogs, oversized aprons, and newspapers piled on their heads, racing without scattering the papers all over the pavement. We could barely hold our sides laughing, watching them compete, gasping halfway through, fighting for victory like their own children!
Or seeing the dignified engineer, your own office manager, unable to balance a plate with a few slices of cake—or pour orange juice without spilling it a hand's breadth away from the glass.
Here and there, the great orchestra—big and small and barely toddlers, playing instruments ranging from the "lady" electric guitar to Vim cleaner containers turned into maracas—invited us to pause for a moment. These were times for quiet singing, for everyone mimicking "If You're Happy" together, even those who, following a boy who kept wandering off, participated in the festival only in an apparently minor way.
But it was only apparent. All of us—big and small, from Rome or far away, each carrying our burden, lighter or heavier—felt ourselves at the heart of the celebration, at the center of this current of friendship that passed from hand to hand in our anaconda circle.
We came home a bit tired but happy. For one afternoon, we all felt equal. The sun had given each of us the warmth we needed to light a small flame of hope. And this institution, which welcomed us with such simplicity, proves that little by little, our way of celebrating is contagious. Those who saw us once are ready to open their doors to us again.
Saturday, March 28, 1976
In the afternoon at Villa Patrizi, some Roman friends welcomed representatives from Cuneo, Piacenza, Parma, and Salerno who had come to Rome to take part in the festival on the 29th. We had a warm exchange of ideas, proposals, and reports about the work being done in these cities in the spirit of Faith and Light.
Friends from Vercelli did not attend this gathering because they were busy those days with awareness-raising work at the parish level.
Sunday, May 23, 1976
Roman groups are invited to the Nazareth Institute for an afternoon "TOGETHER."
3:30 p.m. Welcome
4:00 p.m. Short films and photographs from the March 29 Festival
5:00 p.m. Refreshments
5:30 p.m. Questionnaire (to be sent to groups outside Rome as well)
6:00 p.m. Mass
7:00 p.m. "Fishing": everyone gets a small prize, and eight lucky winners get eight tickets to…
Parma, where from June 3–6 a household from the Ark of Trosly will be welcomed.
Planned events include:
Saturday, June 5, afternoon: Meeting with the Church of Parma
Sunday, June 6, morning: Mass in the Cathedral (presided over by the Bishop)
Sunday, June 6, afternoon: Faith and Light Festival
O Lord,
teach us the joy
of seeing those near us happy,
because we gave them the most comfortable place, the seat we most desired,
because we helped them with their work,
because we truly loved them.