One of the girls in the class I taught was always withdrawn. They had told me she had Aids.

“What can I possibly do for her?”, I thought.

I started offering her a lift home at the end of the school day. Bit by bit I realised that she was being eaten away by desperation. One day I decided to call her father who I’d never met him before. I was sure that something could be done for this young girl.

When I met him I listened to his tragic life story: 20 years of drug abuse, prison, the death of the girl’s mother… The day after he sent me a note: “I understood that you care for my daughter at school”.

Whilst trying to handle the situation with great care, I managed to create an ever more trustful relationship with her and, engaging others, a chain of solidarity was formed. The teachers found a million and one ways to help her actively take part in school activities. Bit by bit she came back to life.

One day she came to me with a question: “What happens when we die?” I felt compelled to share my life treasure with her. I told her about paradise, about love, about my experience with Jesus. When I’d finished she said, “I too want to live like that”. It was a moment of light for both of us. Her mysterious suffering and pain had a meaning.

Source: http://www.focolare.se