Faith and Light—two simple words, yet for us they overflow with the Spirit of God. At Parma we lived them deeply and with joy: the joy of children asking their Father for faith and light so they might "see" more clearly, "understand" more fully, love more deeply, and give more generously.
The trip was a chance to refill ourselves with all of this—something essential not just to move forward day by day, but to look ahead and see far, so we might be "collaborators of the Spirit, listening to Him" (words spoken by the Bishop of Parma at the vigil in St. Peter's); and so we could prepare for our children a better future and for ourselves parents a real hope of peace.
With this spirit in mind, we gathered in Parma to meet with L'Arche—the community where Jean Vanier lives with disabled adults and friends.
Reading a collection of thoughts the other day, I found two sayings I want to share with you, because they seem to capture perfectly the spirit of Parma.
The first, by R. Richmond, says: "God has made this world, despite what men do from time to time to destroy it, a place full of beauty and miracles; a place where He has put more goodness than we usually believe. And so I say to myself: should I not stop to nourish myself on beauty and miracles... so as to offer my small gift of goodness? And should I not be grateful for this in my heart?"
The second thought (by Heraclitus) says: "Most of the divine escapes our knowledge through lack of trust".
And so: in our gathering at Parma, lived in fraternity and joy, we literally "nourished ourselves on the beauty and miracles" of friendship, and we felt—I would say we could touch with our own hands—the Divine present among us. It revealed itself in meetings that were peaceful, moved, and full of trust: trust in God above all (can the Father abandon children who cry out to Him?); and trust in one another.
That trust in others which we so often feel dying within us in today's world, surrounded by selfishness and closed minds.
But let us turn now to what actually happened—the facts will speak for themselves.
We left Saturday morning: light rain, but everyone was happy to escape the heat! Everyone arrived on time: Father Michel with his smile and his precious flute (how it brightened our spirits!); fathers and mothers beaming; and... "Bravo! Bravo! Magnificently brave!" for our young people.
The drive was wonderful, with small stops to refresh ourselves.
The bus was full of joy, music, laughter... all of us, young and old alike, happy to become children again in the general delight.
We arrived in Parma at 2 p.m.: a most affectionate welcome from the dear Parma coordinators. What can one say of their quiet efficiency? Their capable organization?
We stayed at Don Gnocchi's residence for disabled young people, just steps from the Cathedral Square.
Meeting L'Arche
After a brief rest, we all went to the Bishop's Palace (Cathedral Square) to meet our French friends from Jean Vanier's L'Arche.
It is hard to explain with words—with words written on a bare piece of paper—what that encounter meant.
For our Italian guests, slides were projected with spoken commentary: the practical achievements of L'Arche.
Views of the Compiègne forest with the house at Trosly. Then views of other houses (the "Foyers") in other locations.
Applause! So much applause! Especially when the slides showed moments in the daily life of the Foyers: work time, leisure time, community meetings where they prepared and discussed their programs.
Applause for the studios with free drawing; mosaics; hand-thrown ceramics... L'Arche at Trosly cannot keep up with all the orders that pour in from everywhere!
And then the funny photos, the joyful ones: the people seemed alive there in front of us. Faces relaxed, serene, luminous with a happiness that springs from deep within.
After the presentation, the French members of L'Arche invited us to ask questions...
What could we say? Ours were questions that wanted to know everything! What were the first difficulties when L'Arche began? Where did they find the first houses? What about the assistants? The staff? The economic challenges? The psychological ones?
The L'Arche leaders clearly understood the state of mind of the parents present: the tone of our questions made that clear. And with the kind hearts that sense even the subtlest feelings, they gave us clear, simple, precise, concise answers... and, finally, a short talk on what lies at the heart of L'Arche: the Spirit that animates it.
To give each young person in their care the chance to become the fullest version of themselves in peace, in an atmosphere of joyful calm—at work and at play each day. And above all, listen to them, help them express themselves through gesture and word and the satisfaction of work that yields real results. Help them grow confident in themselves, through a "gradual" process (that is what psychiatry teaches!). In a word: help them know they are loved!
One gets the sense that at L'Arche nothing is truly insurmountable: each person does what they are able to do, gives what they have, and above all gives who they are. Because in an atmosphere of love and peace, the heart expands and offers its best.
And the joy we saw shining on the faces of the young people at L'Arche spoke for itself!
Applause! Much applause! From all of us to our French brothers and sisters, so simple in their generous gift of every moment!
And more of what happened
After the meeting at the Bishop's Palace, we returned "home" for dinner. Then we all went to the vigil with the Parma community and their Bishop at St. Peter's Church, on the eve of the ordination of Don Mario to the priesthood.
There too were moments of silence, of reflection, of prayer—intimate and shared—to the Spirit of Pentecost, so we might truly and always "see" and "hear" and "understand," the better to love, certain of His help and light.
The Bishop helped us reflect on all this as he presented us to the Parma community gathered there.
Then back "home" again...
What can one say of the Cathedral Square, with the Baptistery glowing in the night, its marble chiseled in rose and violet? The gold facade of the Cathedral in the darkness? And... our great circle, singing together in the nearly empty square? What must the peaceful people of Parma have thought of us?
But by eleven we were all in bed.
The next morning, Pentecost Sunday, we gathered at 10 at the Cathedral for the ordination of the new priest by the Bishop.
We stood in the left transept—seats of honor.
A ceremony of profound meaning: a young man on Pentecost entrusting himself to the Father's hands, to carry Him to his brothers, in a joyful and constant gift of himself each moment...
The Bishop emphasized this, noting that our presence there—we of "Faith and Light"—gave an even deeper and more symbolic meaning to the offering Don Mario made to God.
And we, the Christian community, are invited—the Bishop added—to help these priests through our presence, our understanding, our active help, our full collaboration and without reservation.
We held lit candles in our hands; our hearts reflected faith and light; our Father Michel concelebrated at the altar.
After a quiet and moved communion, we found ourselves on the cathedral steps exchanging remarks... in the sun! Yes, because by then the sun had come out!
With an hour to spare before lunch, the bravest among us (young people and adults) made a quick trip to Parma's museum: paintings from every era dazzled us with their colors and beauty!
What can one say of the lovely Umbrian and Florentine Madonnas from the 1300s? The magnificent "face," a work of Leonardo da Vinci?
And to restore our strength, at 1 p.m. we gathered for a meal absolutely Sunday in character—and thoroughly Emilian! Tortellini in broth, roast chicken... the French young people (and ours too!) were thrilled by the french fries. All washed down with Lambrusco: a word so difficult for the French that they struggled in vain to pronounce it, to everyone's laughter. And then fruit, cake, and ice cream... for those who could manage anything more!
At 4 p.m., we met at the Sisters' home for the Faith and Light celebration!
Anyone who was in Rome in March on Via Aurelia can imagine the festiveness, the enthusiasm with which everyone—young and old—joined in games and songs led (with a wonderful band) by the tireless organizers from Parma, helped by the energetic French with their guitars... the "mummies," musical chairs, giant circles... not to mention the three-legged race: Father Michel and Don Francesco witnessed it, amid applause and general joy!
And then there was Gary (Canadian) from L'Arche—transformed for the occasion into a clown, entertainer, helper, dancer, quick-change artist, and more...
And the delicious pastries (I forget what they call them in Parma) offered warm straight from the fryer...!
And plenty of drinks for those thirsty after so much talking, singing, running, and playing in the sun!
Such happiness for our young people... and such tenderness and quiet skill in the welcome from our Parma friends: they felt so close to us, like sisters!
Time flew by: at 6 p.m., our leader gave the signal to leave, and the bus resumed its journey to Rome, this time carrying so much hope and promises for the future.
- Emanuele and Letizia, 1976