We must open the doors
"No, I will not waver in anguish": these words from the Psalms have been my daily motto for fourteen years now.
My son was born spastic—severely spastic. But what do words like "despair," "excessive worry," or "a barren and empty future" have to do with him? Nothing at all. I say this because I have loved him so much from that very first moment when he came to me fragile and wounded.
I carry so much joy in my heart. I nurture it every day, every moment really, and I do not allow myself to step back.
Enrico is now a lively boy of fourteen, and over his already long life he has accumulated countless hours of therapy, visit after visit with specialists, limitations too many to count. But at the same time, he has filled his spirit with extraordinary experiences. He has learned to know himself well, and—though he barely moves and speaks only in sounds few can understand—he knows what he wants.
He is deeply religious. You should see how he rests his small hand, tender with love, on the page of the Mass. When the priest announces the parish commitments for the week, Enrico cries out in approval.
That is all I want to say: Enrico has a strong spirit. He does not let himself be defeated easily. He is a spastic child trained carefully to know how to overcome, to accept his reality exactly as it is.
He loves to learn and study. He is in his first year of middle school and has two devoted, gentle support teachers.
In short, what I want to convey is this: God helps and stirs the soul to renew itself when circumstances are particularly difficult.
But from the beginning, my husband and I did not lock ourselves away in isolation. We actively sought friendship and help from our friends, our parish (the volunteers—how much they have given and continue to give!), the school, and the institutions too.
We must break through. Open the doors. Build something that lasts—and do it faithfully, for these less "fortunate" children.
Enrico is a profound witness for me, a clear and bright mirror of God's thought about us as parents and, above all, about him—a tender-strong child, reaching always toward a better tomorrow.
- Maria Teresa Straulino
Everyone can give
I answer your letter of the 19th with real pleasure and satisfaction, because helping those whom ordinary people call handicapped is a social and human duty from which no one should exclude themselves. They are sensitive beings beneath the surface. They need affection, friendship, love—real love. Blessed is the path that humanity has begun to walk, because despite apparent indifference, the Holy Spirit is awakening vocations of service here and there that give us hope for a better tomorrow.
Human beings cannot silence or extinguish the spark of love that has always burned in the heart. Every person, all people, can give something. It is the eternal, irrepressible, unchanging law of love that God placed in our hearts. It embraces us all, ideally. We are all brothers and sisters. Our Heavenly Mother wants us all united here as we will be there. She loves us and waits for us. I am a happy father and husband. We have four beautiful children, gifts from the Lord. But what do I do to thank Him?
Little. Very little. I spend a few hours with friends less fortunate than ourselves, and I visit the elderly and abandoned from time to time. So much poverty, my God. But we smile. The Lord is with us.
"May the Lord always walk at your side!"
- A.d.P.
I read it with real interest
I am almost eighteen years old. A few days ago I came across one of your magazines by chance—an old one, number 2 from April-May-June '84, a gift from my aunt who is a nun. I read it with great interest, both for its subjects and for the simple, clear language.
I immediately wanted other copies. I saw on the second page that you offer back issues as sample copies, even old ones. I would be grateful if you would send them to me. I intend to subscribe, if you could update me on the cost.
- A.M.S.
Law 180 is not good
I would be very grateful if you would give space in your magazine to this letter, which carries with it the terrible suffering of many families whose relatives have serious mental illness—victims of a well-intentioned but misguided utopia.
For those living with this disease, we call for appropriate facilities where patients who cannot psychologically endure the emotions of normal life can be cared for with patience.
I would also be grateful if you could draw from the attached interview an article on the conditions in forensic psychiatric hospitals, where in the absence of alternative resources, the most severe family members of some of our associates are unjustly confined—people who in other times would have been treated in ordinary psychiatric hospitals.
Our goal is to make society aware of these wounds. But if the world of the healthy thinks it is time to do something for these patients too, then now is the moment. If not, then let it be said plainly, and let them continue to be treated as beings unworthy of any attention—they who, because of congenital or acquired mental disability, have never known love or the ability to love. And please, let us stop saying that Law 180 is good but simply lacks proper implementation. Enough with the equivocations that breed confusion, not understanding. A new culture for those struck by this terrible suffering is created by doing—by acting.
I greet you with warmth and sympathy.
- Di.A.Psi.Gra. VENETA