In 1967 we were young and full of fire when we first started visiting Stella Mattutina—a residential school for disabled children—one Sunday a month. We came to play with the kids, to do good by our neighbor.
We felt virtuous, and for a while everything went smoothly. Then the initial fervor faded. We threw ourselves into skiing and mountain hiking instead, though we kept our commitment. But our hearts belonged to those children. Nothing else satisfied us the way a Sunday at Stella Mattutina did, surrounded by our young friends.
A group of us decided to deepen our work. We began going every other Sunday instead of once a month.
The sisters asked us to take charge of two groups: the Sparrows and the Squirrels, who lived in a small house called the Forest. From that day on, everyone called us the Friends of the Forest—a name that stuck.
Those were grinding years for us. Mario worked eight hours at the factory, grabbed a quick sandwich, then sat through three hours of evening mechanics classes. I spent eight hours at a department store, a sandwich dinner, then three hours at night school studying window display. We would finally see each other at two in the morning, talk about our sparrows and squirrels.
Prayer became our anchor in those days. Don Gasparino and the P. De Foucauld Missionary Center in Cuneo sustained us. Exhaustion evaporated the moment we passed through Stella Mattutina's gates. Twenty-eight children would rush us—climbing into our arms, hanging from our necks, clinging to our backs—all of them shouting "Hello Mario and Betty!" We left shattered, but our spirits soared. In April of '72, the Sparrows and Squirrels were guests of honor at our wedding.
Three months later, I was pregnant with our first child. My pregnancy opened long conversations with the children.
So many questions! The miracle of new life growing inside me was almost too much for them to grasp. Through Stella Mattutina, we learned about Faith and Light. It seemed like a beautiful movement. Together with Sister Annina and others, we started a Faith and Light group here in Cuneo. We began by inviting parents of our Sparrows and Squirrels. Other families joined. Some of the happiest moments of our lives we spent together—at our wedding, at Claudia's baptism, at our second son Andres's baptism, with all twenty-eight of our little friends present as guests of honor.
How many times I prayed for Claudia and Andres as they learned to walk and played at Stella. I was always afraid they would be trampled in the chaos of the older children playing ball. But they would wobble between the flying feet and the ball and never once get hit. Their guardian angels certainly had their hands full those days. By God's grace, nothing terrible ever happened.
And so time passed. The Faith and Light group grew, and so did our children. They looked forward to Saturday afternoons at Stella, playing and working alongside their friends.
Because they had always been surrounded by children who were different, they found it completely normal. They seemed not even to notice. But in the evenings when we gathered for spontaneous prayer, I would hear them whisper: "Jesus, heal E., C., M., and all the sick children like them."
It has not been easy. We gave up much. There were hard times. But looking back now, twelve years later, I see how much joy the Lord has poured into our hands, what precious gifts He laid before us on a silver plate. We have always taken freely, and sometimes we stop to say: "Thank you."
We set out thinking we would give something. Now I see that what we gave was a grain of sand next to the mountain of grace the Lord gave us. And I think of Jesus's words:
"Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." (Mt 6:33-34).
Mario and Betty Collino, 1979