A young mother of an autistic child unfamiliar with Faith and Light writes: "It is the hardest gift life could give me, but without asking it gives me so much... Even though I've had a different calling as a mother, what matters is never feeling alone... As a mother I only hope that his tomorrow is filled with people of great heart".
She expresses the fundamental questions at the heart of this magazine and of Faith and Light and its communities better than I ever could: do not flee the suffering of those around us; discover that even those who seem destined only to need help give, mysteriously, far more than meets the eye; recognize the difficult, unexpected task of the parent of a child marked, as Monsignor Brambilla says, by the endless wound of disability; be aware of how much we need one another; find places and people who understand all this, or at least try to, and allow themselves to be moved—together.
Faith and Light is made of people committed to educating their hearts in this direction. And they have discovered new things about themselves and about those living beside them. So in this double issue dedicated to Faith and Light on the occasion of its 40 years in Italy and in preparation for the thanksgiving pilgrimage in June, we have tried to tell what new things, what gifts, we have experienced through Faith and Light.
Perhaps not all of these will seem like gifts to everyone. Perhaps there are others we failed to capture. But surely the greatest gift is the 59 communities scattered across Italy, each briefly told on every page of this magazine: drops, yes, but without their life and their stories—difficult though they may be—the sea we inhabit would be a little smaller. With deep gratitude, I point to the presence of three voices from outside Faith and Light, authoritative and encouraging: that of Cardinal Ravasi, Monsignor Galantino, and Sister Veronica Donatello, who help us see how the journey of Faith and Light itself can bear witness to the Gospel message. Aware that in a stormy sea fear threatens to overwhelm us and leave us paralyzed and alone, following the theme chosen for the pilgrimage, we trust in Jesus to continue coming toward our little boat, saying: "Take courage, it is I!".
Cristina Tersigni, 2015