Francesco was a rugged sportsman, especially on his bike. Every day he would ride several kilometres over the tortuous and picturesque paths of the Roman hills, to help keep in shape. He looks young, but it’s already been quite a few years since he decided to give his life to loving God in the neighbours he meets each day – but also in the hard times in his own life as well as in the lives of others.
A few days ago, during one of his usual workouts, his bike hit a rock and the steering wheel broke, catapulting him into the air. The landing wasn’t gentle . . . and the first to hit the hard asphalt was his neck, resulting in damage to the C2 vertebrae. In a single second the whole panorama changed: from intense physical training to immobility on a hospital bed, inside an iron “cage” from the neck up, kept in place with screws pressing against the skull. . . That’s also why it was important to him to stay in shape. The apparatus is meant to impede movement and hopefully lead to the soldering of the injured vertebrae.
He sends a phone message from his hospital bed:
“C2 Vertebrae, you barged in on my day and changed everything. I didn’t even know you were there and, if you were, where?
Then came that abrupt landing on the asphalt and amidst all the broken parts you were the one everybody was worried about.
You had the power to cause my death, or to render me immobile in a wheelchair. It was enough for you to allow the axis vertebrae to break … that piece of bone which makes it possible for me to move my head.
Let’s hope that after this blow, I won’t have to change my vision of the world and that with the help of this futuristic device you will be able to go back to being the fulcrum of all that moves.
Big C2, I’m trying to rebuild my relationship with you, not only out of self interest, but to know the amazing things of which we are made. Every little piece matters!
May these moments help me to discover how valuable everything is in me, all of it the fruit of Your love.”