Do vacations exist for us?
For many, vacation means freedom, relaxation, a different kind of life, travel, a country or seaside home, doing nothing, doing whatever you want.
But for us?
So many problems! School closes. What do we do with Cristina, who is so unstable? Where do we take her? My mother used to take her for a month. But now she's gotten too old. How can we find any rest or vacation time for the family? Cristina is part of it: shouldn't we spend vacations together with her? The arguments never end. Can Cristina's mother have a vacation? And what about her brothers and sisters, who can't take it anymore? The family atmosphere becomes heavy.
So we don't go on vacation?
Often the decision is made for us by circumstance: no summer away for her... my mother doesn't feel up to taking her... the family is stuck.
What now?
Cristina's Parents
A call to our friends
Thinking of how many families find themselves in Cristina's situation, Ombre e Luci appeals to our friends to stand with families like hers—to offer at least a few days of vacation.
Things have improved over the years: municipalities, centers, and associations organize vacations for disabled young people, but not for those with severe disabilities. Fede e Luce responds to their needs too, offering parents two weeks of relief and giving young people with disabilities a period of true community belonging.
To capture the spirit in which this vacation experience at Fede e Luce is lived, we publish this letter from a friend in the Fatima Group of Milan.
This vacation leaves you feeling renewed
For four years I have spent a unique stretch of time in the Maderno campsite—almost otherworldly, and yet still very much in the world. Each time brings a different emotion because the people are different. Friends, parents, young people with disabilities come together as one large family to share a true vacation all together.
It seems impossible that freedom and commitment could work hand in hand, and yet they do.
Community life brings us joy, but it demands constant commitment. We must let go of part of ourselves for the good and happiness of everyone.
At the Maderno villa, everyone contributes what they can. In the mornings, some clean rooms, others cook or wash dishes, some do the shopping, some organize games and activities for the day. After lunch is rest time, then we play, sing, and pray together!
It is a peaceful place, though it requires constant attention to the young people.
Of course: difficulties and misunderstandings exist—they're inevitable. But here every event, no matter how small, is growth. You learn truly to believe in something, to feel valued by everyone, and as a result to accept others for who they are, without expecting from them anything more than what each person, in their own way, is able to offer. Parents, friends, young people form a unity that brings great joy, especially to the young people who feel truly included in the group.
Not all of us cross the threshold of this "Villa" with the same intentions or spirit. Some don't realize what difficulties they might face, yet it's certain that even a single week enriches you so much that when you leave, you carry a sense of happiness and fullness with you.
I have learned that it is the young people with disabilities themselves who teach us something, who help us discover our own limits, who touch our conscience, who shape in us a new heart toward life—indeed, who teach us to love life itself. With them we learn to know our deepest feelings. A truer, more genuine friendship takes root, because living together day and night reveals our real capacity to love. Maderno is not simply a change of air during the summer months. It is something that stays with you, something that afterward leaves you feeling renewed.
- Ornella Bernardini, 1985