Paths of hope

Among the reflections of the sun, you can breathe and glimpse, together, the beauties and anguish of the world, the refinements of creation, the atrocities committed by man. Behind that foliage, so rich, so intense, only for a moment can one see the bestiality of the war in Ukraine, the dead children, the buildings razed to the ground, the wide-open eyes of the mothers, the sad comings and goings in the hospitals, the movements in the trenches to avoid missiles and mines. Of course, Russia's aggression, a legitimate response, but the result is those latest photographs that are relaunched from the fronts.

Then, perhaps, on an afternoon of rare beauty in November, here stands out, beyond the colorful rows of vineyards, the horror of the Middle East: the terrible terrorist attack by Hamas with children and men badly executed in house to house, Israel's response has never been so bloody.

It's a sadness that comes from the images, displayed at every hour of the day and night, in billions of homes. It's natural to wonder how it's all possible. There is no answer. The only thing for us, men of the street and family, is a "lofty" thought of that God who we hope will continue to illuminate our steps amidst the fallout of war and the thirst for peace.
Yes, this year, the very rare colors of autumn are a screen and image of a world that is transforming quickly, too quickly. In those "fifty shades" of yellow, red, vermilion and, perhaps, even a little blue there is the labored breathing of a planet violated by man for too long, there is excessive concrete, there they are the flooded rivers and streams, the flooded houses, the deaths, the disasters, now, unfortunately, so violently close together. However, in the veins of those leaves which then tell millions of stories, ours, there is also the great new wave of sensitivity launched by Pope Francis with Laudate si' and Laudate Deum, a fundamental help to the world in rediscovering beauty of creation that, turning between a hill and a rapid slope, you can breathe deeply. It's the beginning, but a good "new beginning".

Of course, among the "colours" in the wide expanses of the plain, in the narrow valleys, in the fortresses, in the unrepeatable geometries of Langhe, Roero, Monferrato, there are (well hidden in the chiaroscuro) the great expectations of all or of many: there is a public health system that is sick and in deep crisis; the emergency rooms which (in some cases) seem to be the anticipation of hell despite the new choices, commitment and imagination of the administrators; the waiting lists which will also be a post-Covid evil, but still remain compact to the full advantage of private individuals (for a fee); transport strafed by increases; the difficulty of finding general practitioners and with them vaccines; the missed opportunity to do one just for flu and Covid; the "cost of living" which, despite the bonuses, hurts everyone.

But there, far away, among the beauties of the straw yellow of the leaves, the green clogged with smog, the threatening red there is, at least today, a nuance of beauty, of purity, of balance, of sobriety, of authenticity that can help. «There is something new today in the sun, or rather ancient... I feel that violets are born around it» (Giovanni Pascoli, L'aquilone). Of course, they will be reborn! Beyond the foliage, there is Christmas! A peaceful Christmas.


Gian Mario Ricciardi
NP December 2023