It's a game we all played as children—everyone lined up at the starting line while one child, facing away, calls out: "One, two, three, freeze!" The other children edge forward carefully, taking tiny steps, afraid of being caught mid-movement and sent back to the start.
The child calling is often frustrated. The others seem so still... and yet... they keep advancing.
Don't we sometimes feel this way at Fede e Luce? How many times, a little discouraged, have we said to each other: "Nothing's happening. Everything's the same as before. Our efforts aren't going anywhere. It feels like we're accomplishing nothing..."
This creeps in after a carefully planned gathering, after a small community home, after an outing, after a whole year of intense life at Fede e Luce.
And then those on the outside pile on, needling us with remarks like: "You should be doing more! All you do is socialize! Fede e Luce should be opening centers! When are you actually going to build those Arks? You talk a lot but do nothing!"
It's hard to swallow. I know it. Sometimes it's hard for me too.
But then... I turn around again. I count once more, with courage: One... two... three... freeze!
And suddenly I see someone moving:
- P., on the phone with me, talking, asking about Tella, about Nanni, about camp... (Three years ago F. spoke only three words!)
- C. is getting ready for the international gathering of Latin-speaking countries in Grenoble. (It's the first time people like him will be there: 15 out of 60 participants.)
- At the Milan meeting in April, Fede e Luce welcomed new groups from Abano and Bellinzona... and Senigallia... and Naples announced its birth!
- H. and M. will come to camp for the first time in their lives. They're very excited, and so are their parents.
- M., S., and G. made their first Communion...
- And then... there are so many small moments, so many new friends arriving, so many unexpected gestures, so many tiny glimmers of light that can't really be told because certain "things" you only see with your heart.
One... two... three... freeze! We all stop again.
I turn around once more and think of Lourdes—August 1969—the grotto—the rain—the silence—people kneeling beside me—a mother approaches: "Will you come to a parents' gathering tomorrow?" Alone and closed off, I want to say no. I don't answer...
One, two, three, freeze! We seem so still, Lord, but quietly, without showing, we're all getting ready for Easter 1981 at Lourdes. We'll come to sing with your Mother: "Magnificat! The Lord has done great things for us!"
Mariangela Bertolini, 1980