A Corner of Paradise
I haven't yet had the chance to spend even a single day at Alfedena during camp, but from what my daughter tells me when she returns to Rome, from the photographs, from talking with friends—I'm certain I'm right to imagine it this way. A corner of paradise where everything is beautiful and everything is God's grace, where the joy of being together reaches its peak, with days flying by amid laughter, songs, cheerfulness, prayers, and good spirits all around.
A corner of paradise that for one month each year is inhabited by our angels (somewhat loud ones) but all so very dear to us.
Faust, 1977
After Camp: A Friend Shares Her Struggle
When our camp began, I was consumed by worries of every kind. But right now my biggest struggle is this: I don't know how to think about someone who is handicapped. Of course, they're not entirely normal, but there are so many different types, and while I'm drawn to see them as normal people with some difficulties, at the same time they seem to me like young people who will always be handicapped, burdened with so many troubles, including rejection from most of "our" society.
So what is Faith and Light really trying to accomplish? I don't want our meetings or camps to become parentheses that, once they end, make these young people see the everyday world as even uglier, more dismal. I want to help them understand that I'm with them not out of pity, but because with everyone in Faith and Light I feel good, and all of them can help me tremendously.
A friend, 1977
Tobia, the Turtle of Joy
Dear friends, I am the newest member of the Cuneo Faith and Light Group, and so I introduce myself: my name is TOBIA, the turtle of joy!
Everyone who sees me "dressed up for the occasion" with a splendid red bow attached to my shell calls me "charming," and modesty aside, I think it won't be long before I become the "mascot" of the group.
I wanted to write to the newsletter to publicly say THANK YOU to Mimmo Bonanno, a likable fourteen-year-old boy with red hair and a nose full of freckles, who to show me his friendship, armed with a saw, hammer, nails, and plywood, built me a villa with a garden fit for a king!
I think no turtle has ever owned a finer villa, so I say to Mimmo the most heartfelt THANK YOU and I recommend to all of you, big and small, that if you ever need a little house, you turn to him!
I send you a warm embrace from my owners Mario and Betty and a big hello to everyone.
Tobia, 1977
Beyond the Usual: Home, School, and Growing Up
The Hardest Things
One difficult thing for me is figuring out why I take part in Faith and Light. Maybe because I found friends there with whom I can talk about "existential problems," or maybe because I simply found myself in the middle of it and no longer have the courage to turn back, or maybe because being together with people in that particular way makes me feel happy and "fulfilled." My answers change depending on my mood and my certainties at any given moment, but what remains constant is the fear of discovering, beneath each answer, my terror of being left alone with my selfishness.
It's hard for me sometimes to be with Faith and Light friends without withdrawing, growing tired, getting irritable.
It's hard to overcome the anger of not understanding others and not being understood.
It's hard to accept my own limits and those of others.
It's hard to feel "useless"—to see that all the effort I make rarely meets with recognition or approval from others.
It's hard to accept that the progress I wish I could make in a day takes a year, to resign myself to not having everything right away.
It's hard not to get swept up by apparent results or atmosphere, because it's even more exhausting to pick yourself up after hitting your head against the wall.
And then you tell me: "No problem!" But can you explain to me how you're so sure?
Laura de Rino, 1977
A Child Full of Joy
I received this letter from Dr. Yasse, a doctor at a school for handicapped children in Belgium. Reading it stirred feelings I cannot describe, especially because I knew Frèderic.
I spent some afternoons with him: he was a child full of joy!
I learned today that he has passed away, and I'm sending you this letter so that others may read it too, because it isn't addressed to me alone but to all our friends in Faith and Light, and it seems right that everyone should read it.
Thank you!
M. Laura, 1977
Dear Parents, Dear Friends…
On Saturday, August 6th, at eight in the morning, Frèderic lay in his mother's arms. He whispered to her: "Drink." She looked at him, and in that moment, he let go. His mother's arms presented the child of her heart as a bride to the Heart of Jesus.
Frèderic had been ill since June. Together with his father, his mother, his sisters Brigitte and Cristelle, he was surrounded by affection and care from his large family at the "Centre" in La Branche: Mr. and Mrs. Leleux, who welcomed him among their own children during the week; Father André; the friends of Faith and Light; Sister Marie Benoit; and so many others.
Frèderic had just turned ten.
Ten years during which the Spirit of Jesus allowed him to sow around him the joy that dwelt within him.