Reflection Reflections A letter about the hope The Abbot was tired to his room. Took the chair and paper. He began to write. "Sir, I send the written message from my room. I have a lot to tell, and I know how to begin. This week I've been playing so much pain in our hearts: Parents who have seen the death of one of his sons. Children who do not know how to deal with their aging parents. Couple who break up after many years of promises. Adults who lose their jobs. Young imprisoned by the drug. Elderly people living alone and without the love of their own. I am overwhelmed by this world of pain and tears in which we walked for a while fragile. I know it really what the Letter to the Hebrews, we have no continuing city here. But many do not continue with the second part of this text, which speaks of seeking the future city (cf. Heb 13:14). I would like the simplicity of Christ to speak to the hearts and help them to look at the sky, stars, swallows, jasmine. I would like to help them discover this wonderful world so many good things that reflect your love for each of your children. But many do not have the strength to lift his eyes to you. The disease, slander, neglect, penalties have been filled and bitterness. Others live immersed in sorrow for sin: falling over and over again and do not know how to break the habit, how quitting, how to break our addiction to sex or money. I wonder how you see this world of so many struggles, so many tears, so many grudges, so much blood. Do not feel sorry for the aborted unborn children, the elderly sad and marginalized, neglected or exploited migrants, for children who have nothing with which to fill his stomach? Forgive me if I speak well, his heart in his hand. I know that the only hope left to us humans are You. But sometimes I feel like doing my own the words that I wrote years ago Giovanni Papini, when I asked that at least a miracle were to make visible to all, that our land and turn away pisases to spark some hope. You see, I'm doing a little fool, because no need to "back." Already live among us. You are in the tabernacle, in a silence full of love and affection. You are in the patient, waiting for a caress and medicine. You are in the poor, asking for some alms. You're in the elderly, who only wants to be there with someone who will listen a moment. You're in my heart, as a priest, even though I tremble for my fears and I am also wounded by sin. You are in many contemplative souls that continue to sustain the flame of your love in the world. I ask the grace to be a bit like you: good Samaritan willing to heal the wounds and sorrows of men and women who meet each day on my way. They demand only the help of a brother and I remember them manifest your infinite love for each of your children. "
I know, is unattainable. But for some privileged 
