Every Christmas invites us to reflect on the birth of Jesus and the welcome his parents gave him—the angels, the shepherds, the Magi, and all the people who have embraced him across the centuries. Christmas is always waiting, welcoming, giving.
These three words stayed with me after reading a small book: "The Strength of a Fragile Life: The Story of a Girl Who Was Not Supposed to Be Born," written by her mother.
"Whoever welcomes one of these little ones welcomes me," and I would add: lives Christmas.
I will not try, in my own words, to tell you about Philippine—words that would only betray the emotion this true story stirred in me. Philippine was not supposed to be born, yet she is seven years old today. For anyone wrestling this season with hard questions about life and death, prompted by the long debate around Eluana Englaro; for anyone searching for meaning in a life that seems pointless; for anyone trying to understand the mystery surrounding those who appear to us not fully alive as we would wish them to be—I urge you to read what this 32-year-old mother writes. Supported by her husband, her other two children, and her faith, she speaks to us with force and conviction about the mystery of Philippine. It is larger than we are. It calls us to silence and adoration—the greatest gift that Jesus' Christmas brings: God made human, present among us.
Here is what Philippine's aunt, 24, writes:
What amazes me about Philippine is her uselessness, her inability to do anything at all. And yet to see how much she works! Philippine has the gift of transforming the people around her, of waking them up, of opening their hearts. It is truly extraordinary. In this I see that she was made in the image of God.
Mariangela Bertolini, 2008