Far more than a simple closing celebration, it was the visible stage of a journey built throughout the year by hundreds of young people across Italy and Albania. It is already looking to the future, aiming higher with the desire to involve many more young people, teams, and initiatives in the years ahead, both across Europe and around the world.
The Expo Fest of Time to Change ended in Castel Gandolfo (Rome, Italy), on 6th-7th June. The programme engaged around 1,300 young people and 105 teams, challenging them to take action through practical projects in solidarity, active citizenship, environmental stewardship, inclusion, and peace for the common good.
Almost 600 youth from 52 teams met. Among the comments collected from participants were: “I have become more aware of my actions and I have paid much more attention to those who find themselves in difficult situations”. “I understand how valuable some friendships are.” “I carry in my heart the beauty of what was born here and the silent strength that these days have generated”. These are some of the impressions gathered from the participants, protagonists of an event that gave voice not only to the 9 finalist teams, but to all the realities involved.
During the event, voting and the final award ceremony took place. The Trent Gen Time to Change team from Trent won first place; Children of the Sun from Taranto ranked second; Time to Change from Milan ranked third. Special prizes were awarded to the teams from Piedmont and Valle d’Aosta, the “Alfonso Gatto” High School in Agropoli and the Albanian team Alboomerang.
Through moments of sharing, personal testimonies, music, dance, discussion, workshops and flash mobs, each group was able to tell their contribution to change. At the heart of the event was a large space dedicated to stories: those of young people who have chosen to step outside themselves to meet others; of schools that have transformed civic education into a concrete experience; of local groups that created afterschool programmes, artistic initiatives, environmental projects and acts of solidarity towards people living in vulnerable situations.
The projects presented demonstrated how change can be lived in everyday life. For example the Alfonso Gatto Linguistic High School in Agropoli (Salerno), carried out a project dedicated to the1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Students engaged people in the street, with questions about fundamental rights, handing out symbolic badges to “friends of human rights” and donating copies of the Declaration to those who wished to know it better.
There were 18 young people from Albania. Through the Time to Change programme they took part in theatre and art activities for children, ecological walks, training sessions and meetings with young people welcomed into family homes. Regjina Paluca explained, “In the community, there are young people between the ages of three and twenty. Some told us that they grew up in a family home: they arrived as children and now attend university. It was very touching for our youth. They saw that those thirty young people all live together in the same house, while they, at the end of the day, would each return to their own home. We will continue this work in the future, because the project is spreading rapidly: young people carry a beauty within them that they want to share with their friends.”
A significant part of the journey focussed on personal vulnerability. The experiences of Edoardo, Francesca and Victoria told of isolation, depression, anxiety, bereavement, exclusion and reconciliation. Their stories showed how suffering can become a place of growth, relationship, renewed faith, and openness to others.
The journey was also inspired by a poem written in 2005 by Margaret Karram, President of the Focolare Movement, who, in front of “the long, high, grey wall” of Jerusalem, ” stretching through the city, dividing neighbourhoods, streets, lands and families”, reflected on the meaning of her life and the divisions of her Holy Land in the light of Jesus crucified and abandoned, hope against all hope.
During the event, Margaret Karram, presented a travelling trophy to the winning team, Trent Gen Time to Change. The trophy will accompany future editions of the project and will be passed each year to the new winning team.
In her brief greeting, she reminded participants that living peace requires courage, and that peace begins with personal change. “The first peace is Jesus,” she said, “who died for us, but He rose to give us peace and to redeem each one of us.”
As one of the participants wrote, Time to Change “does not limit itself to talking about change, but makes it possible”. The wave started by these young people now continues, reaching ever higher.
With the arrival of a new parish priest in a neighbouring village, we have begun living the Word of Life together. This is a phrase from the Bible that the Focolare Movement focuses on each month and about which we share our experiences. One evening, our neighbour’s cows got into my bean field and destroyed everything. It was not the first time this had happened and because of it we had not spoken to each other for months. Wanting to teach him a lesson, my wife, the children and I picked up some branches and set off towards his house. On the way, I remembered the Word of Life and said, “Hold on! Last week I received a leaflet that said we must forgive our enemies. If I go to the catechesis meeting, how can I explain it if we go and punish our neighbour now?” We decided to go to his house, but not to speak to him in a threatening way. We simply wanted to explain what had happened and ask him to be more careful with his cows. That is exactly what we did. Expecting a violent confrontation, he was left speechless. He knelt at my feet and apologised over and over again. From that day on, we began speaking to each other again and greeting each other normally. In fact, even more than that: we became friends. A new joy filled our home.
My name is Sarra Marta Lupășteanu, I am nineteen years old and I was born in Trent (Italy).Every time I say this sentence I realize how much my story weaves together places, cultures and beliefs that often do not meet easily.I am an Italian-Romanian girl and above all I am Orthodox, daughter of Father Ioan, priest of the Romanian church here in the city, and of Presbytera Delia Rodica. Our church is located in Via San Marco, in the heart of the historic center: a small Romanian world nestled between the Castle of Buonconsiglio, streets and houses that tell of centuries of Trentine Catholicism.
Growing up here has meant living naturally with the awareness of being a minority. Not a closed or isolated minority, but a different presence, which often requires explanation. When my classmates asked me why at Easter we follow a different calendar or why there are so many icons in our church, I understood that my daily life and theirs did not completely coincide. Yet, I have never felt divided: Catholics and Orthodox believe in the same God, only with different traditions, rites and sensitivities. This is the source of a reflection that stays in my heart: we need dialogue between communities but also good will, because understanding does not come by itself, we must want it.
I study Philosophy at the University of Trento and this choice has increased my ability to observe and understand what I experience. Entering a university environment, where identities mix and sometimes clash, made me reflect even more on what it means to belong to a denomination perceived as “other” compared to that of the majority.
Castillo del Buen ConsejoChiesa di San Marco
Sometimes I feel as if I am walking on a bridge: on one side, my Orthodox community, with its roots, its songs and traditions that I have absorbed since childhood; on the other, the Trentino society in which I was born, studied and grew up and which, for the last two years, has become my official homeland after obtaining Italian citizenship. I speak Romanian, I know the traditions of my country of origin and my family has taught me to preserve them, but I am also a girl deeply connected to Trent, to its rhythms and its customs. When I enter our church in Via San Marco I feel enveloped by a familiarity that no other place gives me: the golden icons, the voices of the choir during the Liturgy, the community that greets my father calling him “Părinte“. Yet, this difference never made me feel like a stranger. On the contrary, it taught me to look at the world from multiple points of view. In a city with a strong Catholic tradition, the presence of other Christian denominations shows that faith can be plural without losing its truth.
Today, as a young girl building her own future, I know that my identity comes from the meeting of two dimensions, it is a lens through which I read myself and the world. It is the awareness that roots do not prevent you from growing elsewhere. I am a “bridge” and now I am no longer afraid of being suspended: it is right there, between two shores, that I have learned to dwell. And in this space I have discovered my most authentic freedom: to be able to carry both worlds with me without having to choose, allowing them to dialogue, complete one another and make me whole: rooted and still journeying, with my heart open to the future.
by Sarra Marta Lupășteanu Article published in the magazine of the Parishes of Saints Peter and Paul and St. Martin in Trent December 2025 Foto: Chiesa romena di Trento – e Magda Ehlers by Pexels
From the rubble of war to the wonder of snow: this was the journey of a group of children from Gaza, welcomed to the Veneto region of Italy, thanks to the Padua Embrace Children and Civil Protection association. For many of them, marked by deep wounds in both body and soul, the day spent in Val Saisera, in Northeast Italy, was a rare moment of lightheartedness.
The day, organized by the Associazione Famiglie Nuove del Friuli Venezia Giulia (New Families Association of Friuli Venezia Giulia), was attended by about forty people, mostly women and children. It was a simple event, yet full of meaning: playing in the snow, laughter, tobogganing and a spirit of togetherness that allowed the memories of the war to fade into the background at least for a few hours. On that Sunday in January, the long-awaited snow came almost as a sign of welcome, as if to respond to the children’s desire to be able to see it for the first time.
Many of these children arrived in Italy in 2025 thanks to a humanitarian corridor activated to provide urgent medical care. They included young amputees, children injured by explosions, or suffering from illnesses impossible to treat in a land devastated by conflict. Their families have painful stories: mourning, forced separations and arduous absences. Yet, alongside the suffering emerges an extraordinary capacity for resilience. Nothing captured the spirit of the day quite like the nine-year-old girl who, despite having lost both legs, was all smiles and laughter on the toboggan, eventually finding the strength to join the other girls in a dance.
Imam Kamel Layachi, imam of the Muslim communities of Veneto, who encouraged collaboration between Muslim and Catholic communities was a focal point for the various groups involved. Parishes, associations and volunteers joined forces to offer not only assistance, but also opportunities for integration. The children are already attending school and the mothers are taking Italian courses, in view of a stay that could become longer and open up to employment opportunities.
At the same time, the health needs are urgent, in particular for prosthetic limbs not covered by the National Health Service. For this reason, fund raising initiatives have been launched, with the aim of restoring autonomy and dignity to those who have lost a limb.
The day on the snow ended in Tarvisio (Italy). Welcomed by a group of New Families from the region, by the volunteers of the Friulclown association, by Don Giuseppe Marano, the parish priest of Valbruna and by the tea and biscuits offered by the Alpini – the group moved indoors for lunch (prepared by the Muslim community of the city of Udine) in the parish hall. A shared lunch and a moment of common prayer brought things to a clos. It was a simple but powerful gesture, which united different cultures and faiths under the sign of fraternity. The words of Palestinian families tell better than anything else the meaning of the experience: gratitude, emotion, relief. One mother wrote, “You have allowed happiness to touch our hearts again”.
The Italian volunteers also received much in return: in the eyes of those children they saw pain and joy, fragility and strength and the awareness that, even with small gestures, it is possible to rebuild fragments of humanity. In a world marked by conflict, that day on the snow represented a small, but authentic, space of peace.
From a story by Friuli (Italy) New Families Photo: FN Friuli
I was doing some work around the house when I cut my left hand deeply. As I tried to stop the flow of blood before my parents accompanied me to the hospital casualty department, our six year old grandson Emanuel, who was spending that day with us, watched closely as I hurriedly bandaged my hand: “Does it hurt a lot, Granddad?” I reassured him and to help me, he gave me a sweet! Shortly after: “Would you like another sweet, Granddad? It’ll do you good.” After the wound was stitched, bandaged and with a splint on my left thumb (fortunately the tendon was unharmed), when I got back home he came running to me: “Granddad, how are you doing now? Maybe a coffee would help”. “Thank you, Emanuel, after lunch: now let’s go to eat”. My wife had made his favourite sausages. After eating his, he took another one from the serving plate, cut it up and without saying anything put it on my plate. Observing these gestures made with moving simplicity, I recalled that Jesus indicated children as a model for us.
(Giovanni C. – Italy)
A providential holiday
“Beyond Us”, an association that supports people with disabilities, among its many activities organizes a holiday in San Bernardino. The President, whom I have known for years, said to me: “Why don’t you send Benedetta with us?” The idea was appealing, but would the place be suitable for wheelchair users like my daughter? After a visit it seemed that it would In addition, our friend Daniela kindly offered to accompany her and there would also be a nurse there. Benedetta was enthusiastic. I couldn’t believe it. Before leaving, we attended a dinner to meet the other holidaymakers. The atmosphere was cheerful. On 3rd August, Benedetta and Daniela left in our car for getting around locally. I really hoped my friend would not get too tired… I trusted and entrust everything to Jesus. The first news from both of them was reassuring. When they returned I hardly recognized my daughter: she was relaxed and overjoyed especially because she had been able to attend Mass every day, celebrated right there in her and Daniela’s room. God always surpasses us in generosity!
(M.B. – Switzerland)
When you lose your self-sufficiency
The month just past has been a month of “passion,” in the most physical sense of the word. An extraordinary month, in which physical pain was cradled by the tenderness of brothers. My eagerness to recover quickly—that sin of pride which wants always to feel self-sufficient—betrayed me. There were complications after the operation, my knee swelled up, and the doctor was firm: rest and ice. In that bag of ice I found a strange form of prayer. I found myself “small”, dependent on my brother for a glass of water or a lift in the car. But it was precisely in this fragility that I rediscovered the treasure of the priestly community in which I live. I understood that fraternity is not just eating together, but having the trust o say, “I need you”
Dependence on others is not a defeat, but the guarantee of our humanity. Today as a retired priest, I cultivate a few square meters of the world in my garden. And as long as I have a voice (and a crutch to support me), my garden will always be open to those looking for hope.
(Don Peppino G. – Italy)
Curated by Maria Grazia Berretta
taken from the Gospel of the Day, Città Nuova, year XII – no.3 – May-June 2026)
“It is very touching that the children of Rome thought of the IRAP (Audio Phonetic Rehabilitation Institute). This sum is precious, above all because it is a gesture that comes from the hearts of children.
During this past term at IRAP, we have tried to be “sparks of life” in the midst of the death that surrounds us. For us, this gift is itself a spark of life: it makes us feel that we are not alone and that, behind this gesture, there are concrete efforts, the faces of joyful children, hands joined together… All this is a seed of life and fraternity that touches us deeply. Thank you.
We are certainly living through difficult times but we continue to hold fast to hope and to choose life every day. This means going against the current of what is happening in Lebanon today. It calls for constant efforts, which we must make again and again, because nothing can ever be taken for granted.
Today in Lebanon, the word “peace”, seems to be losing its meaning. Many people don’t believe in it anymore and sometimes neither do we. At one point, even the Time Out, the daily moment of prayer for peace shared around the world, seemed pointless to me. How could I expect others to believe it, if I myself no longer did?
It became necessary to go deeper in order to rediscover the true meaning of peace: first of all inner peace, which is a challenge in a context of war, violence and hostility. Not allowing yourself to slip into hatred of the enemy, overcoming anger in the face of injustice, ripping out from your soul everything that can corrupt it… it’s a continuous struggle.
At Easter, Jesus’ greeting to the apostles, “Peace be with you”, resounded in a new way in my soul and I rediscovered that he is our true peace.
Active commitment to others is a way out: it frees us from isolation and makes us stronger. ”
IRAP (Institut de Rééducation Audio-Phonétique)
compiled by Maria Grazia Berretta
The Middle East emergency is ongoing. Every contribution helps bring relief to the many families affected by the scourge of war: many have lost their homes, others seek refuge in centres that continue to open their doors despite increasingly limited resources.
