In Marzocca
We were called. We said yes. We began this ministry of encounter by invoking the Holy Spirit to help us give always and everywhere—to whoever draws near—a ray of light, strengthened by faith in Christ Jesus. It is hard for me to express this experience briefly, but I will try.
It is beautiful to set out with a small lamp and find others willing to walk alongside you. Beautiful, yes—but so difficult too.
Father Danilo's desire to form a Faith and Light group in Marzocca and the surrounding area moved us to travel from Rome—a small group of parents, young people, and friends, ten of us in all—to lend a hand and help them get organized, however modestly, and to explain our purpose. We did this with much emotion in those moments of meeting with interested friends.
We committed ourselves to three significant moments:
- Meeting with a priest from Senigallia, who promised to introduce us to local parents. Here arose the difficulty mentioned above, partly because we had so little time—barely a day and a half.
- A presentation to the bishop while he was leading a vigil in the parish, which we also attended. We showed our slides in a parish hall and shared information with the many friends present, who were very receptive and eager to find the best way to start a new Faith and Light group and embrace its spirit.
- Mass in Father Danilo's parish, where we met and greeted many parishioners warmly. In that moment we felt important because we represented the great family of Faith and Light. Important for making ourselves known and for casting not the first stone, but a pebble into that wonderful Adriatic sea.
To those who received us with such love and understanding, we say thank you from our hearts, and may God bless you.
Fausta Guglielmi, February 10, 1980
Meeting in Milan
"And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes" (Rev. 7:17).
This promise became real. When? Where? Always, when love has accompanied human life—but in my view, it came true in a particular way during these days at the Faith and Light meeting here in Milan.
It is not easy for me to speak of these days. I am tempted to repeat, and thereby spoil, the words of Father Roberti and Don Pierangelo; and every word should express far more than it can say.
For instance, the word "joy" does not simply mean the cheerful, festive mood that marked our time together. It means the light in Antonella's eyes, the notes from Francesca's flute, Patrick's Italian.
We in Milan had awaited these days with enthusiasm, but also with some anxiety. Would everything work out? What unexpected problems would arise? What would the weather be like?
At last friends arrived from Rome, Abano, Bellinzona, Brussels, Cuneo, and Parma, putting an end to all our doubts and making room for the joy of meeting!
These were intense days, truly lived together, with moments of serious work and moments of recreation. The meeting with Father Roberti was demanding—I had never encountered him before, and he spoke to us young people with such familiarity, humanity, and simplicity that even I, who know little French, could almost have stepped in for Silvana!
He reminded us that what matters most is to be "someone to someone," and that Faith and Light is a great family where we meet and grow as life should always be—through "the reconciliation of differences": handicapped, young people, children, adults.
This decisive aspect of Faith and Light emerged again in my discussion group. As we shared the different experiences we have had, what stood out above all was the importance of freedom that marks the life of Faith and Light groups, where each person feels recognized as a person, accepted, in an atmosphere where we understand how vital it is to become like the little ones—with their enthusiasm and their gift of being a sign of love. The Gospel of Matthew reminded us of this during our first Eucharist celebrated together.
Alongside these "more serious" moments, when we also spoke of difficulties that mark our groups' journey—such as welcoming new friends, internal balance, personal commitment beyond the great celebration—there were others in which the joy and exuberance of each person gave birth to songs, skits, games, and a magnificent THEATRICAL PERFORMANCE! What actors! What colors! How much laughter!
Each group had a chance to express itself, showing once again that joy is fully experienced only by spreading it.
One song, I think, became the symbol of those moments: "The Elephant." It is a cheerful, catchy gesture-song that hummed in the background through all our days, from the morning greeting to the "good night!" of evening.
Three days are few, and they passed quickly. Everything went well. Among our pleasant memories will be the only inconveniences—which, after all, discouraged no one: the breakdown of the Abano bus that prevented some from visiting Milan, a suitcase from Cuneo that headed to Rome by mistake, and an unexpected return—quite funny for us in Milan—of the Cuneo group, who had left a bag behind.
I believe these three days were an important milestone for us all, a source of hope. If they showed us the possibility of building a "true life" here and now, they did not hide its difficulties either.
I am sure this awareness will keep us from falling into hollow rhetoric and will spur us instead to ever greater commitment in what we want to be and do with our lives.
Paola C. - April 25-26-27