So much anticipation, so many preparations, and then… four days lived entirely in the spirit of joy: real, palpable joy, made of laughter and smiles and sometimes mixed with tears. The pilgrimage to Loreto was a moment of great richness, of real power. What stays in the heart are the encounters, the faces, the small confidences shared as friends. It is hard to put into words what we lived. The photos and messages from friends and parents can help capture some of it, but only the heart can grasp what this experience meant—arriving forty years after the wonder of Lourdes 1971. Something unforgettable. Something we will carry with us always.
Angela
Discovering Weakness
You always start with some doubt or hesitation. You carry your own poverty with you. But in the end you return richer than before, certain that each of us, small as we are, matters to others. We are unique, unrepeatable, and above all loved by God for who we are. I think especially of the washing of the feet: sometimes it is harder to let your feet be washed than to wash another's, because this demands that we truly trust the other person and forces us to lay bare our weaknesses.
Thank you, because I met faces I knew and faces new to me. I shared what little I could with others. I understood that each of us holds a great treasure within. I tasted the beauty of being children of one Father.
Thank you, because it is good and important to enjoy the gift of these friendships.
Thank you, because the joy of these moments lives in me every day, and I hope truly to pass it on to others.
Cristina
Trust
The washing of the feet and the moment of reconciliation were especially powerful. I let myself be guided, freed from what in me prevented me from meeting my brothers and sisters authentically. After that moment, I saw everything differently and more openly, certain that the courage and capacity to trust and surrender were working in me. Heartfelt thanks to all.
Tony
We are gifts to one another. Let us give thanks to God for the brotherhood that allows us to live.
Carla
We felt ourselves the heirs of those who made the first pilgrimage in 1971 to Lourdes. From them we learned to set out on the journey. Now each of us searches for the signs of the Loreto pilgrimage in our everyday lives.
Cesarina
I Am Not Alone
When Matteo was born, I asked myself what this son wanted from me, what Jesus was asking of me.
I had no answer.
I set out with anxiety, anguish, and fear.
I asked Jesus one thing: help me understand. Truly enter my heart. Help me understand that I am not alone.
On the journey I met people who cared for my son and for me. Slowly, the gaping wound began to heal.
Then Paolina, a friend from the community, asked me to come to Loreto. I felt a strange emotion inside—fear and hope. Hope for an important encounter, a real encounter.
I met the witnesses, who with their own fears, hopes, and joy welcomed me with all my limits and uncertainties.
At Loreto I understood that to truly welcome Matteo, I must really open my heart to joy.
Matteo in his simplicity had already found the answer long ago. When I asked my son why he liked Simone—Paolina's husband—so much, he answered simply: "Simone is joy."
Thank you for welcoming us.
Dorella, Mauro, and Matteo
I Too, At My Own Pace
A few months after the Loreto pilgrimage, what remains is perhaps the essential: the welcome of the city, the simple encounter with people, the moments in the square like the concert and the Way of the Cross.
But for me, as a longtime assistant to Fede e Luce, what I carry home is once again the chance to share the journey of so many: parents, young people, and friends who at different moments and in different ways—in confession or in simple conversation—have entrusted me with a joy, a struggle, a dream. And all of this at Loreto was not only shared but entrusted. I felt myself merely a conduit, the occasion to place it all in the hands of Another.
And I too was able to entrust my worries and the weight of my own journey. To feel ourselves as brothers and sisters together, walking each at our own pace—this is always a precious gift. But this is the secret of Fede e Luce, even for a spiritual guide: I too felt myself a brother among brothers, I too at my own pace. This encounter left its mark on me as well.
Don Marco
Extraordinary Things
The last week of May my superiors informed me that I was to go on a pilgrimage with Fede e Luce. Not knowing anyone in this community and knowing little of their work, I spent a week of genuine nervousness, thinking about how to make myself as useful as possible.
Pietro, the vice rector of the seminary, explained that the matter was very simple—that I did not need to do extraordinary things. And the seminary's spiritual director had also told me to stay calm and at peace, since Fede e Luce carried out a very important mission, but with great simplicity.
Now I can say with certainty, without fear of being wrong, that the simplest things—the things done with the heart—are what help us give meaning to our lives. There is the power of God, which through simple people manifests itself and touches our heart, turning moments of suffering into moments of joy.
Everything unfolds as Jesus said: "You have received freely, give freely." This is what Fede e Luce does: passing on freely all that has freely been given to it.
I arrived full of anxiety and nervousness, not knowing I was about to meet people who take joy in what they do with the simplicity of the heart—people full of a joy unlike any other.
I recognize the boat, the symbol of Fede e Luce, in the Gospel of Mark 6:50–51: "They all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, 'Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.' Then he got into the boat with them and the wind ceased; and they were utterly astonished."
Astonishment means wonder, surprise, and an invasion of infinite joy. After making himself known and encouraging those who were afraid, he got into the boat with them—a new companion on the journey, not just anyone, but one who encourages, who gives heart and knows how to calm in moments of anguish.
Fede e Luce, in the style of all who travel in this small boat, knows how to inspire, encourage, and calm at just the right moment—not only with words or gestures, but with great simplicity.
Luis Said Bececerra
Changing How We See
I attended a Fede e Luce pilgrimage for the first time. I was disappointed at first, because I thought we were going to Lourdes. But as the days in Paola went on, my vision changed and my heart grew lighter. At first I noticed the negative aspects, feeling a certain unease that first day in the Paola square. The people seemed indifferent, sometimes even hostile. I felt watched, as if I belonged to a third-rate humanity.
I looked at the faces full of enthusiasm and joy—Carlo's and the other leaders on the platform—and I could not share their happiness and engagement. I could not grasp, through their gestures and the complex ceremony, the spirituality I longed for. But during the Way of the Light, my vision shifted. I found meaning again. I began to see in the others their commitment, their effort, their free gift of self—especially in those friends who do not have "the problem" at home and who with great sacrifice and love spend their time with us.
On the bus ride back I felt the need to thank our friends and our leaders (and their families) for all they had done. The most beautiful memory of the pilgrimage—one I never want to forget—is the message Cosimo shared with us on the bus. Cosimo is part of the Emmaus community in Bari, a simple and joyful young man, beloved by our children, even the small ones. For some time now he has had a strange ailment that prevents him from speaking. He communicates through gestures and his expressive eyes. He had us read his text message, which said something like this:
"The young people ask me why I don't speak. I tell them that they are my voice, and that I with my smile and my gestures am the hand that helps them."
This is Fede e Luce! These are its friends!
A mother