Although I grew up in Rome, Italy, I wasn’t a church-goer, because my religion seemed very abstract to me, very far removed from my everyday life. What mattered most to me were my studies, my career, my friends, just having a good time.

Very few people around  me seemed really fulfilled; instead, I saw many who were disillusioned, sad and alone. I asked myself how a person could really be happy in life.

In 1999, when I was 21 years old, while studying Humanities in Rome, I met a fellow student who was a member of the Focolare. I was touched by the way he and his friends treated me. I felt that they accepted me as I was. Moreover, I was impressed by the fact that Christianity wasn’t just a theory for them. They shared how they were living the words of the Gospel in their daily life, or how they had experienced God’s love, and this made them happy.

One particular Gospel phrase really struck me: “Whatever you do to the least of my brothers, you do it to me.” I could love God present in every neighbour.

At home, with my family, I just tried to listen more and to be more patient, particularly with my father with whom I’d had frequent arguments. I’d then spend more time with my mother, who was often alone at home, and tried to help her with some household chores. My family noticed that I was trying to behave in a different way and our relationship gradually began to change. Reciprocal trust developed among us; my mother would ask me for advice and she began to confide in me even if I was the youngest in the family. One night, I remember, my older sister and I stayed up late talking; we spontaneously recalled many past grudges and arguments which we hadn’t really forgiven, but had only tried to forget. For the first time we deeply forgave each other, from the bottom of our hearts. We then embraced and felt a great joy.

Living the Gospel, the world around me started to change, because I myself was changing. I felt drawn to give my life to God.

But there were also many occasions at work to live God’s words. Once, at the school where I was teaching, we had a student who had received very poor grades. My co-teachers and I decided to suggest that she take a different course which would be more in line with her interests and skills. Her father was furious with us; he accused us of discriminating against his daughter.

Some colleagues, to shift the blame, told him that I was the teacher who wanted to fail her. So she and her father came to my office and he was really angry – ready to assault me physically! Nonetheless, I was sure that I could love them in that situation by being sincere and overcoming my fear.

First of all, I tried to listen without interruptions. Later on I explained my side, and why I had made that decision for the good of his daughter. I actually spent more than two hours with both of them. Finally, he realized that racism was not behind the decision, but we had made that decision for the good of his daughter. Assuring me that she would try her best the following year, he added, “I’m an immigrant; you are one of the few who has treated me with respect and without arrogance.” Then they invited me for a cup of coffee, and we talked as if we were close friends.

A few months ago I transferred to the Focolare in Tokyo and I have begun studying Japanese. I try to love Japan as my own country, and I want to discover Japanese culture and history, its food, and its beautiful nature. Naturally, I still have my Italian “identity” but this becomes enriched in the relationship with the Japanese people. Here I find that people express themselves differently, through their silence, or with concrete deeds. It’s therefore quite a challenge to build relationships  more through actions than through words.

Source: New City Philippines, April-May 2013