The Magnificat was the common thread of our pilgrimage to Pompei. As we meditated on it, we realized that it is not only Mary giving thanks to God for His wonders, but that these words also reflect what we live in Fede e Luce: the importance of the little ones in God’s eyes, and the fact that all of us are sometimes little, each in our own way.
At the end of this pilgrimage, the time came to gather the first fruits. Others will reveal themselves over time. I will begin with our small-group sharings, where everyone—parents, people with disabilities, and friends—was able to express themselves.
The first question we shared on in the groups was: “We are all provisionally and partially able: in what way do you feel fragile today?”.
The answers, impossible to summarize, showed some recurring themes across many groups. We feel fragile as we grow older, as we lose physical strength, as we face health difficulties. We feel fragile when we are isolated or when we lose loved ones. We also feel fragile when we look at what is happening in the world—wars, hatred—with a sense of powerlessness in the face of evil. But one fragility emerged many times: fear of the future. “As I see myself growing older, I wonder what will happen to my son or daughter with a disability” is a question that comes from parents, but one that can also be lived—sometimes unconsciously—by people with disabilities themselves, and by friends as well: “What will happen when I no longer have the strength to care for my child with a disability?”. I do not have an answer, but I can share what was said in my group: on the one hand, the importance of preserving trust in God, who has accompanied us until now and has no reason to abandon us in the future; on the other, the importance of the bonds that exist among us, which gives us hope that friends will be able to help find a solution when we no longer have the strength. Trust in God, trust in the concrete friends of Fede e Luce. I would add that Mary can help us on this path of fragility. She did not have a child with a disability, and she died after her Son, but she certainly had reasons for anguish when she saw Him leave Nazareth, or when she heard of His success and also of His enemies. Mary feared for the future of her Son. We do not know how she lived that fear, but she was surely able to rely on her trust in the Lord and on the help of the apostles and the other disciples, as we see after the Resurrection. When we feel anguished about the future of our children, let us not hesitate to ask Mary for help.
Trust in God, trust in the concrete friends of Fede e Luce.
The second question was: “God chooses the little ones, the poor, the hungry. When did you feel chosen?”. Many spoke about joining Fede e Luce as a moment when they felt chosen, or about being elected as a community leader. Others mentioned Confirmation, a religious vocation, or meeting their future husband or wife, experienced as a mutual choice. There was one answer I did not expect: “I felt chosen when I had a child with a disability.” One person said: “He is the one who gives me the strength to keep going.” Faced with this response, I thought once again of Mary. She too was chosen to be the mother of a child, and her Son led her in a direction she would never have imagined. It is worthwhile, for the parents among us, to entrust their role to Mary’s intercession, especially when they face difficulties for which they do not know what to do or where to turn. Mary certainly lived similar situations, even if in a very different context. Through her prayer, she can help us remain faithful to the choice we have received as parents or friends of a young person with a disability.
The third question was: “Have you ever experienced the joy of the Magnificat, the joy of seeing God at work?”. Many mentioned the joy of being together in Fede e Luce. Several spoke of the joy of receiving a strength that allows them, for example, to stand up for or grow alongside a friend with a disability, or to welcome a child with a disability. But what I would like to dwell on are the small, everyday joys: mutual help, listening, a smile… which allow us to experience God’s presence in our daily lives and bring us joy. If we can, taking a little time in the evening to look back over our day, to discover how present the Lord has been, how He has helped and guided us, can be a source of great joy. Mary can help us here too. The Gospel tells us that she pondered what happened in her life—especially what concerned Jesus—and kept all these events in her heart. Mary was certainly aware of the Lord’s active presence in her life, and this was a source of deep joy for her. These, then, are some of the fruits that have emerged from our sharings. At least one point is common to all of them: Mary can help us on our journey. Let us entrust ourselves to her intercession and thank her for her discreet yet strong presence in our lives.
