On one of the Fridays of Mercy—days when Pope Francis devotes hours to concrete presence with welcoming communities in the geographical and spiritual peripheries of Rome—the phone rings at Il Chicco community in Ciampino just before 3 p.m.
As Marco, the community coordinator, later recounts: "Friday at 5 p.m., with only two hours' notice, Pope Francis came to visit us. It was a private, quiet visit because he wanted to live our life for a while. He had a snack with us, he chatted with the boys, he listened to the Arca song while we prayed together, and holding Paolo's and Armando's hands, he recited the Our Father with all of us. He brought two trays of pastries and three crates of fruit—cherries and peaches—a simple, spontaneous gesture that only a real friend gives us sometimes."
Among the boys who live at the community, a couple kept asking if it was really him. Salvatore, who held the Pope's arm the whole time "with his heart pounding," took him to his room to show him his photo of the Pope.
The Holy Father didn't overlook anyone—not the boys, not the families, not the staff, and not Armando, who cannot leave his room. As Vatican spokesman Father Federico Lombardi explained, with this visit Francis underscores that "no one can justify discrimination based on prejudice that isolates and confines families and associations to loneliness," and that "people cannot be deprived of love, joy, and dignity simply because they live with mental disability."
Marco, the coordinator, reflects: "So much emotion, so many tears of joy, so many hugs. I think Pope Francis was moved too—I noticed his eyes growing misty more than once. He asked us several times to pray for him. We began the next morning together at breakfast, and I hope each of us continues to do so." And as Pope Francis said goodbye, he told us: "You touched my heart."
Cristina Tersigni, 2016