Non abbiate paura... do not be afraid... these words resonate deeply spoken by another voice, the caring powerful voice of Pope Karol Wojtyla, to whom L'Aquila dedicated a summit of the Gran Sasso, who so often came in the first years when he was younger and strong, to enjoy one day on the snows, skiing as in his native land. Karol had "adopted" our mountains. As I watch on tv a light wind agitate the ceremonial garment of the Archbishop of L'Aquila, our "don Giuseppe" as many of us who had him as teacher as a young priest still call him, who celebrated so many weddings and baptisms, and gave confirmation to many in the coffins he is now blessing... that light wind gives rise to the feeling that Karol is here, next to our other Pope Celestino V, and their large arms surround the crowd of souls trying to pour consolation into the black holes of desperation of their mothers, fathers, children, spouses, friends, crushed by the loss of some irreplaceable human being, by the future of dreams and projects now turned into emptiness.
We must only thank God for what we still have, ourselves and our dear ones, but cannot stop our tears for these desperate brethrens. Just an inch to the right or left, a half second too late or too early, a little stronger shake, and each of us could be there, at rest forever, or with a lifelong amputation. The moment that nobody wants consciously to figure, when you are suddenly confronted with the loss of your whole little world rotating around your home and possessions, the moment you think will only arrive for others, for tsunami victims in faraway Asia, victims of terrorism and car crashes, refugees drowning off the coast of Sicily, THAT moment has come, it is here and now.