Almost three years after his arrival, medical tests revealed that Elio had a tumour with widespread metastases. Surgery was pointless. A question spontaneously arose within me: why did it happen to him, a person in the fullness of human and spiritual maturity, who could still give a lot to our community, where his wise and calm presence had already helped resolve a difficult situation? Mine was a cry of painful, almost of protest. Then, reflecting with some friends, we reviewed several examples in the Bible, from Abraham to Job, without finding immediate answers. Certain events cannot be explained without faith. During those days I happened to read an illuminating text by Saint Leo the Great: “The Church is the Lord’s field that is clothed with an increasingly rich harvest, because the grains that fall one by one are reborn multiplied”. This is what it was! Only from this perspective could I accept the departure to Heaven of a dear friend. He fell like a large, ripe grain of wheat. I had to believe that from this a full and beautiful ear of wheat would be born.
(G. – Belgium)
Little Great Miracles
I was born in Brazil, but later lived for nine years in another Latin American country with sky-high inflation and widespread poverty that fuelled crime. One day, a friend came to me in tears because she had just been robbed of the only salary which would support her family, since her husband was unemployed and they had four children. What could I do? I simply tried to console her, suggesting that she forgive and pray for the thief’s conversion. But she reacted by saying she would never do that. “In that case,” I replied, “I will pray for him.” A few days later, that same friend came back to see me, but this time with a completely different expression and spirit: happily, she told me that the thief must truly have repented because he had left the bag he had stolen in a shop where she was known. And, astonishingly, her salary was still inside, nothing was missing.
(T.G.S.C. – Brazil)
In a Wheelchair
For a long time now, because of my rheumatoid arthritis, I have been living in a wheelchair. Between hospitalizations and operations, I must have spent three years of my life in hospital. Often, due to the excruciating pain, I find myself completely immobile, unable even to comb my hair or hold a glass. I have had to give up many things I cared about. However, I have a cheerful disposition and often respond to my illness with a touch of humour. Gradually, understanding the “wisdom of the cross” has helped me to accept suffering as the most sublime form of love and to offer my small drop especially for the people who suffer most, for the Church, for the unity for which Jesus prayed. Now I no longer ask God “Why?”, but only: “Help me, Lord”. I try not to burden others with my physical problems and I think that I succeed fairly well, so much so that they find me quite joyful. Everything works for the good if we are open to the love of God. In fact, everyone in our family felt they had to take a step forward. Even our children have matured quickly and have become more responsible.
(Branka – Croatia)
compiled by Maria Grazia Berretta
(taken from The Gospel of the Day, Città Nuova, year XII– no. 1 March-April 2026)
I am a volunteer of the Focolare Movement. Last summer, during a mountain trip with Anna and Toni, friends from our New Families group, it came up that for many years I had worked as a flight attendant for the Italian national airline. They immediately asked me if I knew a neighbour of theirs who had worked for the same company. As soon as I heard his name, I remembered him at once, even though 30 years had passed. They told me that his situation was very sad. Abandoned by his family and suffering from serious illnesses, he was living alone in a large, run-down house that was in urgent need of repairs. I went to visit him and I realized that I needed to lend a hand.
So, together with Toni and Anna, my wife Rita and others, we drew up an action plan. We began by fixing a French window with broken glass, thanks to the help of a carpenter friend. Then we installed a new door leading to the cellar and fixed the bathroom door that had been chewed by the dog. Next we fixed a sliding door that was letting in rain and we also worked on the terrace from which water was leaking into the house. We hired a cleaner, fixed the electrical system with the help of one of our volunteers who is an electrician and who, with the help of Toni also fixed the heating system. My wife added a subtle touch by decorating the courtyard with pots of cyclamens. In short, Cesare, that’s his name, now lives in more humane conditions and feels happy because he is surrounded by people who care for him. He had to go into hospital over the Christmas holidays and we visited regularly.
It’s a joy to know that through those simple gestures, he has regained his faith in humanity.
Christine Schneider-Heinz and Michael Heinz from Eggenburg, Lower Austria, received a short message from the Focolare community in Kiev: it expressed an urgent need for winter clothes for people in Ukraine. The couple have long been committed to helping refugees from different countries, organizing accommodation in their town and helping with initial needs. They immediately knew who to ask for help.
Friday, February 6 – even before morning coffee
The first messages and requests were sent out. The first went to a friend who works in the nearby shoe factory and who already had organised donations of shoe several times. By 10 am he confirmed 100 pairs of winter shoes, including transport to Eggenburg.
Friday 6 February – 11:30 am
A message was posted in their WhatsApp Status and sent to their friends in the vicinity: “bring warm clothes and shoes for people in Ukraine to the presbytery of the Catholic parish this evening, between 18:00-20:00”.
Friday, February 6 – 6:00 pm
Christine and Michael had already gone through their wardrobes and went to the presbytery with the first bags, equipped with labels in English and Ukrainian to pack and label everything.
What awaited them was incredible: an overwhelming display of solidarity and readiness to help. The Mayor had shared the appeal on the municipal app, the parish through the parish app and many people had spread the message through their Status and networks.
People arrived with single jackets, with full boxes, bags and cartons. Some brought items while others accepted them, sorted them, packed and labelled them. Young people from Kharkiv and Afghanistan, women from Kiev and Eggenburg worked side by side.
Some families returning directly from their ski holiday spontaneously brought their ski equipment and thermal clothing. A man took off his expensive down jacket, left it there and went home in his shirt sleeves. People who didn’t know each other stayed to help and everyone was happy to contribute. By 22:30 two minibuses were already loaded.
Saturday, February 7, early morning
The first two minibuses left for Vienna, where the material was delivered to the collection point. Meanwhile, the work of sorting, labelling and packing continued at the Eggenburg presbytery. At 14:00 a third minibus left for Vienna.
Donations came from all over and a variety of people participated: the current Mayor and two former Mayors, the pastoral assistant and a German teacher, an Afghan pizza chef and other shopkeepers, parents with their children and pensioners.
There was a deep sense of warmth between everyone: some people embraced while others shyly left their bags at the door and slipped away.
Someone wrote: “Something like this makes you hope that humanity can still change course. You could feel the willingness to help when we heard the news from a bombed and freezing Kiev. Then someone started to help and suddenly a little miracle happened”.
Saturday 7 February @ 5 p.m.
Over a ton of donations was sorted, packed, labelled, loaded and delivered to the collection point for Ukraine. 27 hours had passed since the appeal was received. The entrance to the presbytery was empty once more and back to normal. Was it a dream? No. But perhaps Eggenburg truly experienced a little miracle.
I am 62 years old, I am Irish and I have lived in Taiwan for many years. I have had pulmonary fibrosis for a long time, so when I began to feel more tired, I thought it was just a worsening of this condition. I went to the doctor not very worried. To my surprise, I was told directly and without any preparation: stage four cancer, which has already spread to the other lung and perhaps elsewhere.
My first reaction was to call my wife. She and my daughter, who lives with us in Taiwan, remained on the phone in silence. Our other daughter is in Ireland. At that moment I was not afraid for myself: my thoughts went immediately to them, to the burden that this news would place on their shoulders. At the same time I felt a deep regret for all the times I hadn’t loved fully, for the wounds I had left along the way. It seemed too late to make amends.
One day a priest came to celebrate Mass in our home. I have known the Focolare Movement since I was eleven years old, and I have always lived the offering of myself to God during the consecration. But that time I understood something new: I could place in the chalice, not only myself, but also all the people I had hurt. I could entrust them to Jesus so that He might heal what I could no longer repair. It was an immense relief. Since then, a deep serenity has accompanied me.
Eight years ago my wife had breast cancer. We have already passed through darkness. Then, as now, we chose to trust in the Father’s love. When I pray the “Our Father” and say “Thy will be done,” I feel that my whole life is already held in heaven. The future does not belong to me: it is in God’s hands. All I have to do is say yes.
I often think of Loppiano (Italy) where as a young man I felt a very strong call to follow Jesus. Over time I understood that it was an invitation to recognize him above all in suffering, in that face that the charism refers to as ” Jesus Forsaken “. Even when my wife was ill, before the cross I understood that it is not enough to remain below and look on: we must ascend with Him, enter into His abandonment and let ourselves be carried to the Father. Our home is there.
Before the diagnosis I had a very full life: I taught at the university, I accompanied students and young people, I supported families and I participated in the life of the Movement. Now my world has shrunk. I’m on leave of absence and in order to avoid infections, I go out little. But something surprising is happening: people seek me out. They write to me from every continent and pray for me. Some young people in Taiwan have created a group to pray together every week. I thought I had sown very little; now I see that love returns multiplied.
When I speak openly about my illness, many find the courage to open up about their own wounds. My weakness becomes a space for communion. It is as if, Christ, lifted up on the cross, draws hearts to himself. This illness, which humanly is a death sentence, turns out to be an opportunity to welcome others.
There are sufferings that can be shared with everyone and others that can only be expressed to God, in a deep dialogue with Him. I know moments will come when I won’t even have the strength to offer my pain. So I prepare myself in this way: by repeating my yes. “Not my will, but yours be done” (Lk. 22:42). I know I can’t face what lies ahead alone. But I also know I won’t be alone.
In these months I have understood that love is not the sole remit of those who know Jesus or call themselves Christians. In the hospital, the doctors and nurses who treat me do not share my faith, yet they love with a tenderness and attentiveness that move me. I have seen in their daily gestures – an extra phone call, a patient explanation, a discreet presence, that love is greater than labels. When I look at suffering through the eyes of love, it no longer remains trapped in fear: it is transformed, it becomes a space of hope, something mysteriously positive. It is as if every act of care, even if unconscious, is already a pathway to God, because wherever there is love, it leads to Him.
And within this immense communion – made up of my family, friends, students, young people and doctors who love perhaps without fully knowing why – I experience that everything is already held within a design of goodness. I don’t have to control it or fully understand it: I can simply dwell within it, day by day, with gratitude.
“The more you read the book, the more you become aware that everyone is called to ‘closeness’. The perception of being able to achieve it and the liberating conviction that this kind of lifestyle brings joy and builds, brick by brick, is the path towards a more unified world.”
Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, uses these words in the preface to the book by Margaret Karram, President of the Focolare Movement, entitled ‘Closeness, a path to peace. Pages of life’.
A truly autobiographical text in which the author retraces her family history and writes about herself, her origins, her childhood in Haifa (Israel), the people she met and her decision to give her life to God. But at the same time, it is a real itinerary, a guide or, as Pizzaballa further describes it, “a multidimensional journey: going within, going outside and going Above” that allows the reader to accept the author’s invitation to get involved in a meaningful way in the encounter with others.
The text was presented at the Jubilee Hall of LUMSA University (Rome, Italy) on the 30th of January 2026 during an event that turned into a unique opportunity for exchange and dialogue. It focused on the theme of “closeness” and aimed to foster a tangible experience of it.
The proceedings were opened by Prof. Francesco Bonini, Rector of LUMSA, who welcomed the participants. The event was moderated by Alessandro Gisotti, Vice Director of the Editorial Department of the Dicastery for Communication of the Holy See. Alongside the author, speakers included Imam Nader Akkad, Advisor on Religious Affairs at the Great Mosque of Rome, Irene Kajon, member of the Jewish community and Professor Emeritus of Moral Philosophy at the Sapienza University of Rome, and Alberto Lo Presti, Associate Professor of History of Political Doctrines at LUMSA.
In the light of Karram’s book, the debate addressed various topics. Among the first points raised was a careful look at the value of identity, as a process and as a movement. “This is a recurring theme, especially in the first few pages,” explains Prof. Kajon, “where a reality is shown that reveals the intertwining and coexistence of many different cultures, languages and religions. In the logic of closeness, it is good that identity, an identity that is intertwined with different elements, always maintains a sense of restlessness … because this is precisely what guarantees openness to others …. What unifies identity is precisely closeness, that is, being human. It is the human family that allows us to unify the identities that are found in each person.”
Imam Nader Akkad, thinking of his Aleppo (Syria), spoke of closeness as a concept that is not at all abstract, but rather something very real that finds its only possible fulfilment in closeness to others and in fraternity. “Closeness becomes the possibility of achieving a ‘shared meaning’, and it is the concept of ‘family’ that forms the basis of society,” says Imam Akkad, “a bridge that is suspended is useless. Two banks are needed. Sometimes the banks become rigid …. Closeness shortens distances, making us understand how close we are. When I draw closer, I recognise my brother or sister, I recognise their suffering and their joys. Closeness helps us to travel through different identities … and not to feel like minorities, but like citizens, so as to build peace together.”
Referring to the concept of ‘inventive love’ as an agent of social, political and cultural transformation proposed by Chiara Lubich, foundress of the Focolare Movement, and in the light of the current crises, Prof. Lo Presti says, “When we see conflicts and divisions in the international system, it is not Chiara Lubich’s vision of a united world that is in crisis …, but rather all those beliefs, philosophies and overly modern visions that believed that humanity would achieve the most beautiful goals of its civil adventure through rationality, or by relying on scientific and technological progress, or simply by expanding markets in an indistinct globalisation, and so on …. The united world that should be the fruit of closeness, is not a victorious march, it is an obstacle course. We need people who are able to look beyond the obstacle and not give in to it. We need people who are able to have hope in their hearts, who see crises as opportunities for the future. In fact, all this means being inventive and creative.”
Therefore, an attempt to raise our gaze. An attempt that, through encounters with various people and key figures, led Margaret Karram to write this text. Karram said, “This moment of authentic dialogue makes me understand that there are many of us who carry in our hearts the hopes and concerns of our time. This book did not come from me alone. It is a multifaceted story. The time we live in is unique, it passes quickly, we are constantly connected. However, this also creates new distances, which are often invisible but very deep. For this reason, addressing the topic of closeness was not a pre-planned decision, either for me or for the Focolare Movement. The more I listened to people, to communities, young people and families, the more I saw a universal need emerging: the need to feel close to one another, not close through a screen, but close in the practicality of life.”
The event, which began as a book presentation, became a moment of sharing that opened up a vision of one’s neighbour as the first step towards the path of peace. It turned into an opportunity to come together, to listen to one another in a synodal way, to discover that in building daily relationships, small sparks of hope, can make a difference.
My name is Vida and for a few years now, I and others from the Lithuanian community have been supporting the family of Julia from Indonesia, whom I met in 2018 in Manila (Philippines) on the occasion of Genfest, the international meeting that brings together the young people of the Focolare Movement. Over this time, despite the distance, a sisterly relationship has developed between us. Her family lives in Medan and is part of the Focolare community there. We have been able to support them at various difficult moments and, it always surprised me and gave me joy that whenever they received help, they immediately thought of other people too.
Before Christmas Julia shared with me her desire to help the children in an orphanage. They needed pillows and mattresses as the flood had destroyed those they had. Since she is a very practical person, she had already worked out the amount needed. So I wrote to the Lithuanian community on our shared website, hoping that someone would be able to donate something. “I was amazed to see that in a short time we collected an even larger amount that I immediately sent to Julia who did everything she could to make the children happy. As well as the mattresses and pillows, for the first time, they also had a Christmas tree
