Cogne
The camp at Alfedena had me thinking about Cogne—about the apartment we rented there and my sister's place upstairs. Eighteen beds, or twenty, maybe twenty-two if we added a few sleeping bags.
I sat with the idea alone for a while. The problems seemed many and hard to solve. But as soon as I started talking about it with the others, the knots began to untie themselves. Things grew simpler.
What helped most was that everyone found it beautiful and exciting. Once that happened, we were ready to make it real.
The number of people who wanted to come was perfect. We never had to turn anyone away. We even reached twenty-five for a few days. Apparently some people love sleeping on the floor!
We asked Rome for help with the organization, and they sent us useful schedules, programs, and worksheets. We copied everything! These were things that had already been tested, and they worked wonderfully.
It would take too long to explain how we spent our days.
We hung a schedule in both apartments—one for the day's hours, one for work shifts.
Before dinner each evening, we held an organizing meeting to discuss what needed to change the next day. We had amazing cooks!
Robert was our great help. He taught us that commitment, consistency, and seriousness in small things lead to great things: friendship, peace, order.
A few parents came to the camp, but the young people were the real stars. All of them kind, all of them wonderful. See you next year!
Anna Maria De Rino, 1977
Cuneo
Summer had arrived, the sun blazed down, but we were stubborn as mules—even though some of us were scattered on vacation—we kept meeting.
On Sunday, July 17th, the green, cool mountains around Cuneo gave us our backdrop.
The group arrived in a rush in the early afternoon. After games and a snack, we all agreed unanimously to sing. What choirs we made, friends!
We recorded them so we could play them for the people who weren't there. But when we listened to them again, we decided to keep quiet about it—no sense in scaring off innocent people! Even the sun got frightened and ran off to hide behind the highest peaks. Our watches agreed, and we decided it was time to head home.
See you next time.
Betty, 1977
Cuneo 2
Summer and vacations didn't keep us apart completely. Hoping for good weather, we planned mountain outings.
We were lucky—the frequent storms didn't spoil our celebrations.
On Sunday, July 17th, we went to Vinadio, a village about forty kilometers from Cuneo at nine hundred meters altitude, to visit Mario and Betty and their family, who were spending their vacation there.
On Sunday, August 7th, we went to a small mountain village called Folché, where our Don Romano is the priest.
Some of us spent the whole day there eating polenta and sausage together. Others joined us in the afternoon.
Both days were full of joy and laughter.
Elisa and Franco, 1977
Grottaferrata
June 25th, 7 a.m., meeting at the statue of Saint Francis in Piazza San Giovanni.
From there, a group of friends from Villa Patrizi began a camp at Grottaferrata—some staying at Casa Balmas, others in tents.
It was a beautiful experience, quite different from the one at Alfedena because more parents were there.
Around 10 a.m. we arrived at the site (running late because we'd taken the wrong bus!) and got straight to work. Some unpacked and made their beds. Others set up tents. After setting the table and eating and cleaning up, people scattered to different tasks: some organized games and songs for the evening, others rested, and a few helped Luis prepare the Mass we all attended together around 6 p.m. This became our moment together each day—a pause to thank Jesus and ask for strength to continue toward his light.
These days were few, but enough to know each other better. They flew by, and the weather was good or nearly good the whole time.
Mornings were spent on chores and activities—gardening, tidying the bocce court, picking cherries or wood, making papier-mâché puppets, or French lessons from a teacher who knew his stuff (that was Luis). We also prepared games for the afternoon.
After rest time, we played together—football, "Frankenstein," treasure hunts, and more.
On Tuesday the 28th, we hiked with a picnic to the cross on Monte Tuscolo, where we made up a song we sang many times afterward. Then came parlor games.
Wednesday was our last night. Pietro and I organized an outdoor bonfire evening. While everyone else sang and Luis and Sergio put on a skit, we two dressed as an alien—a king with one head, four arms, four legs, and a big belly. With one hand he held a light, another held a bag of papers, and a third handed out diplomas to the campers, each one praising them for being helpful, or for being an excellent cook, or a wonderful homemaker.
Thursday, heading back to Rome, we were all a little sad to leave and not see each other until October. But we were very happy to have come to know each other better—and to have come to know Jesus better.
I discovered that everyone carries a great treasure inside, often hidden at first sight. But once you find it, even people you thought you'd known for years, or people you never expected to have such richness—they become a source of blessing that we all receive from.
I lived through moments of joy and love with everyone, and I truly understood what Father Vittori from the San Paolo group said during an evening with some friends and with Claud (a priest from Haiti who came to share his experience with Fede e Luce): "Love can be compared to a stone thrown into a lake. It forms circles—the first small, the second larger, the third even larger still, and so on. But you cannot skip from the first circle to the third."
It is the same with love. If it does not exist first in the family or where you live, it cannot spread outward.
I also learned that what matters is not how long you live, but how you live. (Kennedy)
I could tell you more and describe things that, I think, can only be seen at Fede e Luce. But I could never say them the way I lived them. To truly understand certain things, you have to live them!
On the bus back to Rome, we met a girl named Giuana who lives in Morena. We hope she will accept our invitation to be with us in October at Villa Patrizi.
Francesca Mancini, 1977
Rome at Marymount School
Via Cassia Antica—Second Summer Day Camp
Who thought of it?
The United Nations Women's Guild (wives of FAO employees, funded by the proceeds from plant and flower sales in April, etc.)
Who helped?
The same wives with their children—big and small—their friends, the Sisters of Marymount, some friends of Fede e Luce (thank you, Carmela, Pietro, and Guenda!), and many others. Many nationalities, many languages, one shared desire to give.
When?
The first two weeks of July, every day except Saturday and Sunday, from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m.
Where?
At the American Marymount School—ideal for its large park, swimming pool, classrooms for various activities (crafts, modeling and painting clay, rest time, etc.), a spacious cool auditorium for singing and circle games, and a cafeteria serving delicious pasta dishes prepared by the school's staff.
Why?
To come together as a group and do something positive in joy; to offer—to those who hadn't had the chance—a way to approach problems that were "unusual" for them; to give families with "difficult" children some relief, knowing it was only a drop in the ocean; and to give these children (who perhaps could not leave the city for summer) a few days in a vacation atmosphere.
Our guests of honor?
Eleven children with disabilities—some children of FAO employees, others who came through Fede e Luce and Scuola Serena.
Results?
Well, the children with disabilities seemed happy to come, even though few could tell us so in words. The other children were thrilled by the experience, by having so many new friends, by thinking of someone else before themselves. All the adults found it enriching and want to do it again. (In fact, this year we had the enthusiastic help of people who came hesitantly and unsure the year before.)
The difficulties?
Most of the helpers offered goodwill but lacked experience and technical knowledge. The work everyone had to do—even the guests—was out of proportion to what we accomplished. But everyone said the tiredness was more than made up for by the love and joy our children gave us.
Next year?
Of course we want to try again, hoping to do better.
Want to help us?
You can reach Nicole at tel. #########, or Yvelise at tel. #####
Alfedena '77
"Joy Is Being Together"
Dearest friends,
I cannot be with you this time because of commitments on another planet, so I am sending this letter instead. Perhaps not everyone will remember me, but we saw each other at Alfedena during an awards ceremony.
I am an inhabitant of that planet from where we watch you constantly and follow you step by step. I am writing because I knew you would all be gathered together, and I want to know what meaning you give to a word—what that word means that I have heard so often among you: "joy."
But perhaps I should say I did not just hear it. I saw it among you.
Even in moments that did not seem like joy to you, I saw your joy. When you were together making the banner that said "Welcome Grandmother!"; when Alessandro called Francesco "Kitty" and Francesco stole candy and played the clown. Joy was Mariangela listening and smiling to the song about herself.
"Even though Mariangela wants perfect order, she's the first to stay up past bedtime." Joy was when you all, skeptical though you were, tasted Louis and Robert's French cooking. Joy was when Settimio cheered you up during rest time with his flute, and Alberto sang you "Venderò."
Joy was Pinino putting little Puccettino to bed, and Federica being together with Sabina.
Joy was Sergio and Nanni's morning races and Marianeve's failed attempt to keep up. Joy was Puccio's outstretched hands to Vito, Gian Carlo's smile for Chicca, Stefano's angelic voice!
Joy was meeting new friends who came from all over Italy: Francesca, Mimmo, Gianni, Serena, Anna, Lucetta, and Matteo.
Joy was when Ugo went to get the milk for everyone's breakfast, and while waiting for it to boil, Clara, Ugo, and Daniele started planning the evening meeting for the midnight snack! Joy was Maria Laura and Lucia traveling back and forth from Rome to Alfedena, Valeria's medical advice, chasing Giorgio in his tank top, hearing Giulio's poems by the fire, listening to Carlo play guitar and Anna play flute.
Joy was discovering that Guenda goes through five pairs of underwear a day.
Joy was seeing Andrea and Fiammetta dressed as witches, and eating breakfast at Enrica's.
Joy was taking long walks around Alfedena with Roberta, Claudio, Carla, Monica, Roberto, Max, Gianluca, and Fabrizio.
Joy was hearing "Mariangela Takes a Gondola," sung by Mariangela, Mariangela, Valeria, and Lina. Joy was all of us together at Mass, celebrated by Louis, and gathering in the Tent of Silence.
Joy was Guenda's emotion when Pablo left, and receiving visitors on Sunday.
From all of this, you will have understood that "Joy Is Being Together."
I send my greetings, hoping to see you again soon at an occasion like this one.
Settimio, Clara, Sergio