Edith Stein, theater and encounter
Our religion teacher, Professor Pancaldo, suggested we put together a show about Edith Stein, the philosopher deported to Auschwitz and later canonized. He got us hooked on her writings, and we realized we could use them to express something we feel every day through our service: the need to bear witness to dialogue, love, spontaneity and the richness that surrounds all of us. So, through willingness, collaboration and passion, Who are you, sweet light? was born — words taken from the first line of a poem by Edith Stein. Every member of this project, in their own unique way, brought a part of themselves and helped uncover the light Stein wrote about: a light visible in the young people from the MAIC center in Pistoia, who took an active role, working on the set and then stepping onto the stage as real actors, becoming a source of inspiration, support and often genuine wonder. This wasn’t just a performance about the life of a saint, because every single person who took part was essential to making it happen. Above all, each of us discovered something new about ourselves and learned how to relate to others — a small piece that helped complete a beautiful mosaic depicting the life of a woman who was able to open our hearts.
Emma Tesi (Pistoia)
A house «on four wheels»
Tiny little wheels… the wheels of those unforgettable, shiny, colorful Fiat 500s that the San Gregorio community got to admire and ride in during an extraordinary get-together with a delegation from the Fiat 500 Club Italia. That morning, in front of the church, little toy-like cars in every color sparkled as if waiting to come back to life, ready to welcome new friends into their tiny seats. Our Fiat 500 friends kept us company at lunch, joining in our songs and sharing our food in a true spirit of welcome and sharing that let people who really know their engines discover the inner workings of Fede e Luce. By 3:30 in the afternoon, we started hearing what sounded like a lawnmower outside, along with a whiff of fuel we’re not used to anymore. The drivers and owners — wonderfully welcoming, though I could tell they were a little nervous deep down about our enthusiastic invasion — carefully and patiently let two or three of us at a time climb into their convertibles, tops down, engines roaring… lawnmowers, no way! One, two, even three laps around Via Portuense in a honking convoy, with the Italian flag flying at the head of the parade. All together, reliving moments from our past… for the older folks among us, and, for those who had never ridden in a Fiat 500 before, a wonderful new experience for the young people inside these convertible little toys built for the everyday man.
David Fucili (Rome)