We hardly knew Enza before last summer's camp. All we'd heard were rumors—and they weren't encouraging. Her family rarely brought her to gatherings; everyone worried she might hurt someone.
Then we met her.
Enza is always moving—walking, jumping, sitting still for only a moment. Sometimes she shouts, especially when she's upset or happy. There's something funny about the way she expresses herself in gestures. She loves food, she's generous, curious, sometimes bossy and rough with her hands. But those big hands of hers give the tenderest caresses. Enza wakes early and you can't take your eyes off her for a second—or she'll use up a whole bottle of shampoo trying to make herself beautiful. A beauty that comes from somewhere deep inside, visible in those blue eyes of hers when she grows quiet, as if listening to something. We hope Enza had as good a time at camp as we did—as her family did, even when they felt discouraged once or twice and nearly left. But they didn't. And we needed their guide, Enza, so much. Watching her prepare for her First Communion showed us something we'd forgotten: keeping your eyes on Enza is one of the truest ways to keep your eyes on Jesus. Through her, each of us rediscovered what it means to meet Him.
Two young friends from the Gratosoglio Group (Milan), 1994
Read also: I Was So Afraid!