Bahía Blanca is a coastal city located at the gateway to Argentine Patagonia begins. With its 370,000 inhabitants, it is the economic, religious and cultural centre of a vast region. Just a few kilometres away, another 80,000 people live in the city of Punta Alta. Together, they have a very important petrochemical hub, a network of 7 different ports (including multipurpose, grain, fruit, fishing, gas, oil and fertilizers) and the main base of the Argentine Navy.
In this region, the average rainfall in a year is 650 mm, but on Friday, 7th March, 2025, 400 mm fell in just 7 hours. As this huge amount of water made its way to the sea, it gathered speed and destroyed everything in its path: bridges, canals, railways, roads, roads, vehicles, houses, shops… and people.
The population suddenly found itself in scene of unimaginable devastation, as if there had been a tsunami. A sudden power outage also cut off telephone communications, leaving everyone in the dark about the well-being of their relatives, friends, and colleagues.
However, something deep within this community awoke and all the universal laws converged into a single verb: to serve.
As soon as the water and mud allowed, thousands of people began to pour into the streets. Everyone assessed the damage in their own home, but then immediately turned their attention to their neighbours, to see if they needed help. Those who managed to get their situation under control devoted themselves entirely to helping others. We were all witnesses and protagonists of a gigantic miracle that has multiplied, with incredible creativity and strength.
Recovering photographs of an elderly womanYoung people preparing meals for distribution in the flooded areas.Distributing donations
The only thing that mattered was what could be done with our hands: help remove water and mud from homes, clean, tidy up, look for rags, buckets of water, disinfectant, take the injured to health centres, take care of pets, accommodate people who had lost everything, offer strength, encourage, hug, share suffering. No one complained but said, “It was very difficult for me, but in comparison to what happened to others…”
While I was helping some friends, a couple approached and distributed pasties, others came with drinks. Those who had an electricity generator offered to recharge mobile phone batteries. Others provided pumps to drain flooded areas. An optician donated glasses to those who had lost theirs. A woman distributed disinfectant, a doctor made house calls, a man offered his services as a bricklayer and another as a mechanic. Everything was shared: candles, food, clothes, nappies, mattresses, drinking water, brushes and hands – countless hands.
A bar offers free hot chocolateDonations of mattresses arriveVolunteers cleaning a kindergarten
And then came the solidarity of the whole country and of people from all over the world. By truck, by train, by bus, in vans… tons of donations, which needed more volunteers for loading, unloading, sorting and delivery. Volunteers kept multiplying. And also money, donated with great generosity. Parishes, clubs, schools, companies, all the existing organizations gave everything they could. Generous financial donations also arrived. Parishes, clubs, schools, businesses—every organization gave everything they could. And then, another kind of organization emerged: groups of friends. Like makeshift “patrols,” each group took charge of a section of the city where government aid would likely take longer to arrive. Even now, they continue going door to door, recording every need and ensuring that help arrives swiftly.
All the hands of these people, whether they knew it, believed it, or even imagined it, have become “divine hands”. Because they were the most tangible way God could reach those in need. Personally, I experienced deep anxiety not knowing if my siblings or friends were safe. I wanted to reach them, but it was impossible. So I decided to help wherever I could. I called it my “square metre.” Later, I finally managed to reach my loved ones, only to discover that others, strangers, had helped them where I could not.
Days later, some parts of the city are still under. The suffering and difficulties continue. The losses have been immense. Everywhere you meet people with big dark circles under their eyes and aching muscles from working almost without rest. But with their hearts wide open and a fullness in their eyes, for having given everything for others.
In this year dedicated to the Jubilee of Hope, the Gen 4 (the children of the Focolare Movement) in Rome decided to embark on a journey to discover more about the history of Christianity and understand how to live the Jubilee in their city that is welcoming millions of pilgrims from all over the world. The stages of their journey are the Vatican Basilicas in Rome: St. Peter’s, St. John Lateran, St. Paul’s Outside the Walls and St. Mary Major. They asked Father Fabio Ciardi, OMI, professor of spiritual theology and author of numerous books and publications, to be their guide.
First stop: St. Peter’s Basilica
In October 2024, two months before the Jubilee began, the group of 33 children with as many adults, learned about a very special reality before entering St. Peter’s Basilica. It is located next to the residence where Pope Francis lives. It is the Dispensary of St. Martha, a place where the Gospel becomes incarnate every day through the assistance given to hundreds of mothers and children. It’s an opportunity to explain to the Gen 4 how the Jubilee can be lived concretely by helping others.
Father Fabio explained, “It is a real family clinic, which began this work of care for poor children and their families in 1922. Today over 400 children, with their mothers, are assisted free of charge by about sixty volunteer doctors. They are mostly people without a residence permit, without health care”. Services include gynaecological and paediatric examinations as well as dental care for the homeless.
Father Fabio then linked this story with the story of Saint Peter, using some drawings. The children listened attentively to his voice through headphones: “Jesus met Simon the fisherman and invited him to follow him. ‘Come with me,’ he said, ‘I’ll make you a fisher of men.’ And he gave him a new name, he called him Peter, which means “rock”, because he wanted to build his Church on him”. And as the story continued, we moved to the Basilica to pray at the tomb of St. Peter. “Peter came to Rome. When Nero set fire to the city he blamed the Christians. Peter was killed in the circus of the emperor Caligula that Nero had renovated…and finally the tomb of Saint Peter in his Basilica”. There was an atmosphere of deep recollection among Gen 4, despite the influx of tourists on that Roman Saturday afternoon. Going towards the Holy Door you pass some masterpieces of art. In front of the Pietà, Father Fabio said, “This statue of Our Lady was very dear to Chiara Lubich. Every time she came to the Basilica she stopped here to pray to Mary”.
The stop in San Giovanni in Laterano
The second stage was in January 2025. This time the group was larger: 140 people including 60 children, always under the expert guidance of Father Fabio, met to discover the Basilica of St. John Lateran, full of surprises and treasures related to the history of Christianity. Attentive and curious, with headphones in their ears, for just over two hours Gen4 listened to Father Fabio’s fascinating story.
Gen4 at St. John in Lateran Gen4 at St. John in LateranGen4 at St. John in Lateran
In his blog, Father Fabio wrote, “It was wonderful to tell the story of the obelisk, it was nice to explain the meaning of the cloister, it was nice to tell the stories of St. John the Baptist and St. John the Evangelist and to let the children go and find their statues in the Basilica. It was nice to show the ancient Papal throne and the current one, on which the Pope e sits to take possession of his office. It was nice to point out the relics of the table on which Jesus celebrated the last supper and the one on which Peter celebrated here in Rome. It was good to go through the Holy Door together…It’s good to be with the children and tell them beautiful things…”
At this point, the children have built a special bond with Father Fabio. They walked beside him in the Basilica, held his hand, asked him questions to learn more. A Gen 4 asked, “What’s Heaven like?” He replied, “Imagine a busy school day. When it’s over, you go home to a beautiful, welcoming, warm house, where your parents, grandparents and friends shower you with love. You feel happy in that moment, don’t you? It’s like that in Heaven: it’s a place where you feel good, where you feel at home!” This stage also came to an end. We returned home happy and aware that for us, the Jubilee must be a time to give hope and happiness to the most disadvantaged, to our poor, to those who suffer.
The journey with other generations
Waiting to continue this journey with the Gen 4, the Gen3 (40 teenagers), the Gen2 (30 young people) and a group of adults, fascinated by the positive experience that the children were living with Father Fabio, also wanted to follow the same journey, always guided by him.
Father Fabio wrote in his blog, “First the children, then the teens, then the young people and adults. St. John Lateran, St. Peter, St. Paul and St. Mary Major. So I keep living the Jubilee, over and over. The story of history, art and spirituality, because it is all intertwined, human and divine, past and present. These monuments live on, still speaking after hundreds of years and continue to narrate beautiful things”.
Gen 2 at St. Paul outside the WallsGen 2 at St. Paul outside the WallsGen 2 at St. Paul outside the Walls
And the young people thanked Father Fabio “for preparing our hearts for such a beautiful experience, you helped us to go through this stage of the holy year together, with meaning and joy. We really liked the atmosphere you managed to create, arousing in us the desire to visit together other places in Rome which were important for the first Christians and you gave us the desire to deepen the meaning of being pilgrims on the way to the goal of Paradise”.
Marta, Lina, Efi and Moria are four women, four focolarine, who have followed different paths in life and who have now found common ground between dreams and reality. They chose to move to Chimaltenango from their previous communities, embarking on an experience of living in a multicultural city where poverty and ethnic fractures are part of everyday life.
Chimaltenango is a city in Guatemala, 50 km from the capital, at an altitude of 1800 meters above sea level. Nearly 120,000 inhabitants of 23 different indigenous peoples have settled there in order to survive economically.
Efi, from Panama told us, “I lived in Argentina for many years. Then I spent a few years in Mexico and, just before the pandemic, I arrived in Guatemala where I remained only 3 months as I had to return to Panama to be close to my mother who became ill and then passed away. That was a year that also helped me to rethink many things, to take stock of what I had lived up to that point and to renew my choice of donation to God made years ago”. She returned to Guatemala for this project in Chimaltenango.
She continued, “I grew up in a rural environment among very simple people and my dream has always been to do something for the humblest in society. There is immense poverty here. And there are also indigenous communities, people who have encountered the spirituality of the Movement and who, due to the pandemic and their social circumstances, have been left on the margins (of society)”.
Lina is Guatemalan, Kaqchikel, of Mayan origin. She explained that one of the most obvious fractures is between indigenous people and mestizos (also called “ladinos” in Guatemala, referring to all those who are not indigenous). Relationships are not fraternal, there is no dialogue. She said, “It has always been a goal for me to endeavour to overcome that fracture. From the moment I had my first contact with the Focolare, I thought that this was the solution for my culture, for my people, for my community. ” She recalled the moment in December 2007 when, at the end of her course of formation to become a focolarina, she greeted Chiara Lubich and said to her: “I am indigenous and I am committed to bringing this light to my Kaqchikel people”. She remembered that she “felt that it was a commitment expressed to Chiara but made to Jesus”. Upon her return to Guatemala, she dedicated herself to working with young people, always with the aim of generating bonds of unity both in indigenous communities and in the city.
Moria, Lidia, Marta, Lina, EfiLina visiting a familyWith a group in the focolare
Marta is also from Guatemala, of mixed race. In her early years in the focolare, she was able to devote herself to spreading the charism of unity in indigenous communities. Later, she managed the Mariapolis Centre, the Focolare’s residential centre in Guatemala City. It was a demanding task that lasted 23 years and saw the process of national reconciliation and the reclaiming of indigenous peoples’ rights, because various indigenous communities chose the Mariapolis Centre as a meeting place. Then she was in Mexico for a while. At that time discussions about identity arose and the question arose spontaneously in her: “What is my identity? What are my roots?” She found the answer in the “Virgin of Guadalupe” who, when she appeared in Mexico in 1531, was depicted on Juan Diego’s poncho with physical characteristics typical of native peoples. “For me it was to understand that I was a mestiza like her, that she has both roots and can dialogue with both groups”.
Moria, who is from Chimaltenango, lives with her natural family and is part of the focolare as is Lidia, a married focolarina who lives in Guatemala City.
Stories that intertwine until they settled in this city that unites so many backgrounds and cultures into one. Efi said, “Our desire is to be with people, to get closer. In simple, everyday things: that greeting, that smile, that pausing, simply being with that lady who doesn’t speak Spanish because she speaks her own language and we don’t understand each other”. And she recounted: “One day I needed to buy bread. I went to the market and the women who were selling were sitting on a wicker mat. If I wanted to begin a conversation with one of them, I would bend down to be on the same level and since it was a place for trading, I would try to be fair with her”.
Lina added, “Since we arrived, we have tried to reconnect with people who met the spirituality of unity over past years, by going to visit them in their homes, bringing something, for example some fruit, as is the custom”. In this way, a circle of reciprocity has grown and people began to keep in touch with the focolare which is now often filled with the voices of mothers with their children, young people and, sometimes, some fathers who pluck up the courage to come too. And so, almost effortlessly, a community has formed around this new focolare in the heart of Guatemala’s indigenous culture.
It seems obvious that we are made to relate to other people: in fact, we could even say that our lives are intertwined by the relationships we make. However, we sometimes we risk spoiling the latter with our harsh or superficial judgements.
Throughout history, various images have become part of everyday language. Thus, in ancient tradition we find a well-known expression that says: ‘Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye and not notice the plank in your own?’[1] Equally proverbial is the image of the two saddlebags: one in front of our eyes, filled with the faults of other people which we easily see, and the other on our backs, holding our own faults which we then struggle to recognise.[2] There is also a Chinese proverb that says, ‘Man is blind to his own faults but has eagle eyes for those of others.’
This does not mean that we should indiscriminately accept what other people do and just let events run their course. Faced with injustice, violence or oppression, we cannot close our eyes. We must commit ourselves to change and start by looking at ourselves and listening sincerely to our own consciences to discover what we need to improve. Only then can we ask ourselves how we can concretely help others by sometimes offering advice and correction.
Each one of us needs ‘another point of view’ that offers a perspective different from our own, enriching our ‘truth’ and helping us to avoid self-referentiality and those errors of judgement that are part of our human nature.
The word “mercy” may seem old fashioned but it is rich with meaning relevant to today: we can be merciful first towards ourselves and then towards others too. In fact, only if we are able to accept and forgive our own limitations will we be able to welcome the weaknesses and mistakes of others. Indeed, when we realise that unconsciously we may be feeling superior and in a position to judge other people, it is vital that we are willing to take ‘the first step’ towards the other person to avoid damaging the relationship.
Chiara Lubich told a group of Muslims about her experience when she and her companions lived in a small house in Trent as they began their adventures at the start of the Movement. Not everything was simple and there were misunderstandings. “It was not always easy to love in aradical way […] “Dust” could settle on our relationships and unity could diminish. This happened, for example, when we became aware of the faults and imperfections of others and judged them, so our mutual love grew cold. One day, we decided we should try to counter this situation and we decided to make a pact among ourselves and called it a ‘pact of mercy’. We decided that every morning we would see the people we met – at home, at school, at work, etc. – as new without calling to mind their faults but covering everything with love.” [3] his is a ‘method’ worth putting into practice in groups at work, in the family and in communities of all kinds.
THE IDEA OF THE MONTH is currently produced by the Focolare Movement’s “Centre for Dialogue with People of Non-religious Beliefs”. It is an initiative that began in 2014 in Uruguay to share with non-believing friends the values of the Word of Life, i.e. the phrase from Scripture that members of the Movement strive to put into practice in their daily lives. Currently, THE IDEA OF THE MONTH is translated into 12 languages and distributed in more than 25 countries, with adaptations of the text according to different cultural sensitivities.dialogue4unity.focolare.org
[3] C. Lubich, L’amore al prossimo, Conversazione con gli amici musulmani, Castel Gandolfo, 1° novembre 2002. Cf. C. Lubich, L’Amore reciproco, Città Nuova, Roma 2013, pp. 89-90.
Dear Pope Francis, you may not remember, but we met on 26th September, 2014, when you received a delegation from the Focolare Movement in a private audience. I was part of it, Luciana Scalacci from Abbadia San Salvatore, representing the non-religious cultures that also have a home in the Focolare. I am one of those people who, as Jesus Moran once told me, “helped Chiara Lubich to open new horizons for the charism of unity”. I am a non-believer who has received a great deal from the Movement.
On that extraordinary day, I had the privilege of exchanging a few words with you that I will never forget and that I recall here:
Luciana: “Your Holiness, when you took office as Bishop of Rome, I wrote you a letter, even though I knew that you probably wouldn’t read it with all the letters you receive, but it was important for me to send you my affection and my best wishes, because Your Holiness, I do not recognize myself in any religious faith, but for more than 20 years I have been part of the Focolare Movement, it gave me back the hope that it is still possible to build a united world.”
Pope: “Pray for me, but you are not a believer, you do not pray, so keep me in your thoughts, a lot, think of me, I need it”.
Luciana: “But Holiness, in my own way I do pray for you.”
Pope: “A secular prayer and you keep me very much in your thoughts, I need it”.
Luciana: “Holiness, stay healthy, with courage, with strength! The Catholic Church and the whole world need you. The Catholic Church needs you. ”
Pope: “Keep me in your thoughts and pray for me in a secular way”.
Now, dear Pope Francis, you are in a hospital bed and I am too. Both of us are facing the fragility of our humanity. I want to assure you that I continue to think about you and pray for you in a secular way. You pray for me in a Christian way.
I meet regularly with the synod team in my Parish. At a local assembly, seven people are elected for one year to work on the implementation of the synodal process. We meet in the evenings, sometimes carrying with us the weight of our fatigue and personal worries, even if we try to set them aside in order to put ourselves at the service of the community.
At one meeting, using the excuse that it was the “Week of Sweetness”, I brought a bar of nougat for each one. We were all happy as children, we relaxed and the atmosphere changed. I realized that communion is built with small gestures.
(C.P. – Argentina)
They chose peace
Marc and Maria Antonia, both in their fifties, were surprised to inherit a small industrial machinery company from Marc’s godfather—an uncle who had loved him dearly. They thought long and hard about what to do but eventually decided to keep the company rather than sell it, partly to preserve the jobs of the six employees and partly with the hope of running their own business, involving their son, who had studied materials engineering.
Despite their enthusiasm, dedication, and effort, they faced tough times. The business was struggling. A year after taking over, they had to lay off two workers and return machinery they couldn’t fully pay for. They also had debts with banks and family members.
In the evenings, exhausted, they started wondering if they had made the wrong decision. But they didn’t give up; they pushed forward, looking for new clients. Slowly, the company stabilized, stopped losing money, and they began repaying their debts. However, they were left with very little to live on.
They endured another difficult period until a new client approached them with a large, ongoing order that could finally give them financial stability. They were thrilled—until they realized that their production would be for the arms industry, specifically cannon parts. They were shaken. Could they just turn a blind eye? After all, if they didn’t take the job, someone else would.
They had many conversations, including one with Pedro, and spent several sleepless nights. But they knew they did not want to contribute, even indirectly, to violent death. They refused the order.
After this difficult decision, incredibly the company got other jobs and managed to keep going, despite the difficulties.
We are raising funds to travel from our country, the Philippines, to Rome to participate in the Youth Jubilee. Recently two elderly ladies came to us bringing us some coins from their piggy bank. One of them handed us the coins and said, “These were collected over the course of a year on the small altar I have in my house.” this humble but profound gift, a result of faith and sacrifice, left us stunned.
