We often hear that we only understand the true value of what we have when we lose it. In my life, thank God, it's different: I've learned—and must relearn every day—to recognize the value of what I've been given, and I ask that it be restored to me each day. Beniamino. An immense gift placed beside us, one that can only upend and transform our life completely, for the better.
Those eyes see things differently. They perceive differently. And you, entering into his world, grow with him, suffer with him, and learn to ask alongside him—even though most of the time you feel almost inadequate to the task.
The hard and painful part comes when people don't see the great gift he is. When they fail to recognize the immense value of him, of these people, who possess a richness that perhaps few others have. This sometimes stirs anger in me. But then I offer even that feeling to the Lord and thank Him for giving me Beniamino—Bengy, as we call him—who teaches me to see life through different eyes. Better eyes.
It's not always easy to accept the limits of another person, still less to respect them. But having Bengy in the house is a training ground for all our relationships beyond it.
He teaches you patience and genuine love—not through any effort of your own, but simply because you realize that only this makes you happy. It's a help, too, in not letting the essential things in life slip away.
When you use his life as a mirror, you can set aside your prejudices, your demands, your pointless resentments. His simplicity, if you follow it, teaches you to look straight to the heart of what can make you truly happy.
Faced with a life that challenges us, each of us is called to answer. All of us. No exceptions.
Through my friendship with Fede e Luce—which I've only come to know in recent years—I'm learning this: Fede e Luce is a place where the question of life's meaning becomes urgent and haunting, like a kind of final reckoning.
You find yourself at lunch with a young woman in a wheelchair, unable to speak, unable even to meet your eyes. You sit beside her. Beyond thinking, "What can I possibly do for her? Nothing. How fortunate I am"—you sit in silence, stroke her hand, and tell her: your hands are beautiful. How I wish I had hands like yours.
Then you ask yourself: "So I think I know better than He does what's best for her and for me. Who was the lucky one today—me or her?"
But that's not how it works. In Fede e Luce, we are all companions on the same journey. When one limps, another helps him walk. When one grows tired and stops, another keeps him company. It's a fellowship that gets to what matters. Words become almost unnecessary beside a smile.
Beniamino and his friends in Fede e Luce teach us a new way of looking at life: lift your eyes, see the world as it is, recognize its beauty, give thanks. Life is a gift. My life is a gift. And I am a gift to others. How much wealth in that.
Maria Gnappi on behalf of Serena, Maddalena and Sebastiano - Fidenza - Kimata, 2015