Central Italy Fede e Luce Regional Gathering
From April 11 to 13, representatives from Fede e Luce communities in Rome and central Italy gathered in Pescasseroli.
The invitation came from Daniele di Pirro's parents, who opened their home with generous hospitality—and the gathering fell on the tenth anniversary of his death.
Like every Fede e Luce meeting, this one was beautiful and exhausting, meticulously planned and upended by capricious weather.
Huberta and Francesco Bertolini passed leadership of three new regions to their successors: Luca Zaccarian (Rome 1 and Perugia), Silvia Poleggi (Rome 2 and Marzocca), Settimio Pucci/Giulietta Rossetti (Rome 3 and S. Benedetto). We thank the outgoing coordinators with deep gratitude, and wish the new ones every success.
All those present gathered around the di Pirro family with affection and thanks for welcoming us at "Le Vecchie Arcate"—and for the chance to honor, with emotion,
Daniele
If I were a poet, I would write you verses unlike any other—silent, like you were.
If I were a musician, I would compose a symphony with delicate, nuanced tones, one that would fill hearts with the peace you knew how to give.
If I were a painter, I would fill the canvas with the clear sky of your mountain home, whose brilliance shone in your deep eyes.
But I am only a mother. You'll have to settle for a lullaby.
The car winds down from your mountain village toward the plain. It's April, snowing hard, but the trees and pine needles form a white, magical lace. A gift from you? I had just left your little room, where your grandfather now lies—silent and still, the way you were. He has taken your place. I took his hand and spoke your name aloud; he barely moved beneath my touch. The way you would stir when he climbed the stairs to your room, coughing, calling: "Let's see if he recognizes me!" At his cough, at his call, you would startle awake and break into a smile.
He used to tell me that downstairs, at your grandmother's restaurant and your parents' place, it was pointless to order filet. He was in charge of the meat delivery, and he would cut it out and hide it well: "The filet is always, always just for Daniele," he'd say, proud of the privilege he kept for you.
Your cousin Elide was there beside him. She cared for you so many times. Now she cares for grandfather. You taught her—grandmother told me—to be a constant presence for him. She laughs with him, jokes, feeds him, combs his hair, talks to him. He lets her do it the way he let you, and when she shakes him gently and scolds him, he smiles—barely, sweetly.
So many of us came to honor you, to remember together what you were to your parents, your little sister, all your relatives, and to each one of us.
Everything had been prepared with such care and generosity. The Mass was to be held on Monte Tranquillo, outdoors: a truck had brought tables, benches, chairs, tablecloths, decorations, flowers, and a picnic for everyone.
Then the sky darkened. Your friends—those you knew and those you were meeting for the first time, the small children and the grandparents by now, the young mothers and fathers with their babies on their shoulders, those closest to you, excited and thrilled for this unusual walk—wanted to stay, to celebrate with you in the rain.
But we had to rush! The water came down cold and freezing, almost snow.
Crammed as best we could into a bar room—where a huge fireplace blazed with welcome warmth for the drenched refugees—we sang, prayed, and celebrated. An unforgettable Mass, just like the person who had asked for it: Daniele.
Mariangela Bertolini
I Discovered How Small I Am
Rome - Don Bosco Community
I've been part of this community for about eighteen months. At first, despite my enthusiasm, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to give even the little my heart wanted to offer. Then I saw something in our young people's eyes: the joy of someone who feels rich simply because of a hello or a friendly word.
Their peace, their inner lives so uncomplicated, taught me how simple it is to love, and how important their love can be for us—we who are enslaved to a world where ideals are so often forgotten.
Watching them play, run, shout, laugh, you have to wonder: do they really need us?
Maybe it's we who need them. Their love, which asks for nothing in return but love itself.
It takes so little for them to feel loved. Sometimes just a glance is enough.
They see us as friends even when they don't know us. With their smiles, their curious eyes, they come to meet us without saying a word.
We grew up and keep growing in a world without values, where innocence has been lost in the frantic chase for success and power. The "child" within each of us gets lost in our earthly weaknesses, making us forget our more vulnerable brothers and sisters—brothers and sisters we leave alone to pursue our selfish tomorrows.
Yet if we looked more carefully into their eyes, we would see in their smiles not just a search for our friendship, but above all the serenity and courage in their hearts. They know they are loved, even when their bodies and spirits are weakened by life's struggles.
I will never forget what a boy in a wheelchair said to me: "I'm satisfied with my life because I have so many friends who come to visit me."
I looked inside myself and discovered how small and poor I am—compared to someone who feels rich simply because a friend gave them a smile.
Massimo Massini
Stefano
Summer morning. Stefano and I play together all the time. Lunch approaches: "Who are you eating with today?" The gesture is unmistakable: with Giulia... WOW!
You know that feeling when you set off a chain reaction of moments where, for some strange reason, you manage to show your worst self? That's what happened. Stefano's choice was fatal, and the result was that not only did I feel ashamed of myself—I also had to admit I'd learned something.
Rewind: that finger pointing at me had made me so happy. Feeling satisfied, I'd prepared for the event. A quarter hour passes and I reach Stefano in the dining room. Beside him were Mario and Gianna. I check that Stefano hasn't changed his mind and... oops... he really had changed his mind. Now he wanted to eat with Gianna. The three of them sit down. I move the dishes and pretend nothing's wrong, but inside I'm anything but calm. I'm disappointed, jealous, hurt, angry.
I was angry with Mario. I saw him as "the one who recommended" Gianna. The truth is my pride had been wounded, and once I admitted it, I felt ashamed and calmed down. But I was still angry with Mario.
In a moment of clarity, I found something strange: if Mario had done it, I would have been angry with him. But Stefano did it—so why was I taking it out on Mario? That question led to others: what right did I have to eat with Stefano? What does it mean to feed him? Why was I so gratified by his choice? Finally, hard truths to admit: I was controlling him. I felt too necessary. After all these years, I was still there.
If I said Stefano was my friend, I had to give to him—but also ask from him.
I don't think it's wrong to feel hurt. But next time I won't be confused about who I'm really upset with.
St. Robert Bellarmine Community - Rome
Thank You
CAMP 1996
Thank you, Lord, for walking beside me these past days at a wonderful camp with so many friends, so much joy and peace. It was no accident that I was there among them. You yourself wanted me to live moments of joy and emotion—to feel you closer and never abandon you.
What are complaints or gossip from "mature" people compared to an embrace—or the attempt at one from someone barely able to embrace, who tries with all their might and nothing held back? Absolutely nothing.
You gave yourself endlessly and freely through each young person I met or already knew. Their spontaneity, their simplicity, give courage. You can scold them, correct them, push them aside—and they'll still be right behind you, sneaking a pat on your shoulder, hugging you, smiling.
It's beautiful, all of it. Grant me, Lord, to embrace you always in Danilo's welcome, in Lina's song, in Vito's enormous smile, in Dino's gaze, in Antonio's clapping, in Franco's silence, in Pasquale's punctuality, in Efrem's prayer, in Stellina's joy, in the photo with Chicco, in Paolo's, Marta's, and Walter's patience, in Nardino's and Maria's spontaneity, in Madia's and Giulia's prayer, in Antonio's and my friends' helpfulness—in all the others, Lord!
Forgive me for not knowing how to love the way they do. You live only in the "little ones."
A Friend - Monopoli Community
Paola
8:30 a.m., departure for camp.
I've been given Paola. I hardly know her.
Paola doesn't speak. We don't know if she sees. We don't know if she hears. She doesn't smile. She doesn't move. She's not even pretty.
Few at camp approach her. No one knows how to connect with her.
I don't know what to do. I hold her in my arms, try somehow to make contact, but get no response.
I feel alone. You need two people to create friendship. With Paola, it seems one-sided. Impossible.
Why am I even at this camp? If I'm here with Paola or anyone else, what's the difference? I want to leave. But I stay.
There's a party at camp. People are dancing. I'm exhausted. Alessandro notices. He goes over to Paola, picks her up in his arms, and starts waltzing. I see Paola's mother smile—moved. Someone has noticed her daughter.
Two days before camp ends, Paola leaves. I'm sorry. Her mother invites us all to lunch the day we return to Rome.
We leave. We arrive at Paola's house. I pick her up. I think I see the faintest smile (maybe I only dreamed it). I realize I love her very much. It's a feeling that surprises me. Friendship and love for people with disabilities travel on strange rails—particular, mysterious rails. Maybe to feel these things you just have to drop all the armor we're used to wearing in the so-called "normal" world. You let Paola and her silence capture you.
St. Robert Bellarmine Community - Rome
International Conferences
July 13–19, 1997 - BRISTOL - Great Britain
7th European Workshop of Deaf Sign Language Researchers
Information: Centre for Deaf Studies - University of Bristol 22 Berkeley Sq. - BRISTOL BS8 IHP - England
July 19–24, 1997 - MADRID - Spain
4th European Conference on Deaf-Blindness of the International Association for the Education of the Deaf-Blind "Discovering the World Together and How to Communicate"
Information: C.R.E. A.V. Mosquete - ONCE Paseo de la Habana 208 - MADRID - Spain
August 3–9, 1997 - SÃO PAULO - Brazil
10th World Conference ICEVI (International Council for Education of People with Visual Impairment)
Information: ICEVI - Lara-Mara - Rua Venancio Ayres 157 Vila Pompeia 05024-030 SÃO PAULO - Brazil
September 13–17, 1997 - PAIPA - Colombia
6th World Conference "Helen Keller" "Services for Deaf-Blind People"
Information: X.Serpa - Coordinator Poscal Programme - Calle 108 - 20A - 13 SANTA FE DE BOGOTÁ - Colombia
September 18–22, 1997 - SINT MICHIELSGESTEL - Netherlands
2nd Conference on Family "The Role of the Family in the Self-Determination Process of Deaf-Blind Children and Young People"
Information: Ms. M. Bruggemann - Instituut v. Doven - Thereestraat 42 - 5271 SINT MICHIELSGESTEL - Netherlands
October 2–4, 1997 - MANCHESTER - England
4th Congress of the European Society for Mental Health and Deafness "Improving Quality of Life for Deaf People Through Understanding and Offering Excellent Services"
Information: 1 Annington Rd - LONDON, N2 9NB, UK
October 3–5, 1997 - ROME - Italy
6th World Congress on Isolation and Disability "Seeking New Approaches and Methods of Communication"
Information: Progress - via G. Trevis 88 - 00147 ROME - Tel. 06/51.600.647
October 22–25, 1997 - DÜSSELDORF - Germany
REHA 1997 - International Fair for Rehabilitation, Assistive Devices, and Disability Care
Information: V. Honegger - via F. Carlini 1 - 20146 MILAN - Tel. 02/489.52.136
October 23–26, 1997 - MADRID - Spain
6th World Congress on Down Syndrome "When Dreams Come True"
Information: Viajes Iberia Congresos - S. Bernardo 20 - 6° 28015 - MADRID Spain