by Gianni Di Santo - Dear Pier Giorgio, I'm writing to you a few days before September 7th. A day we've long awaited. You'll finally be among the many saints who accompany us throughout our lives. But there's no point beating around the bush, you are a truly special saint.
Even if this letter reaches you in the mail a hundred years later, I like to think that you are reading it perhaps on a mountaintop, immersed as you are in heavenly bliss.
First of all, I apologize. I discovered you late. I didn't know you very well, even though my wife has a frame at home containing your relics and those of Armida Barelli. It's there, hanging on a wall in the living room, watching over us and the day's toils. Truly a "holy" company.
How beautiful your life is!
But, as I was saying, I must apologize to you, because over the last two years, due to work that forced me (thankfully) to delve deeper into your life, I've really begun to know you better, immersing myself in your letters, your stories, your journey, so full of vitality and courageous for those times. And, I won't deny it, I've slowly fallen in love with you. With everything you've done, with who you are, with what you've thought throughout your short but beautiful life.
Meanwhile – let me tell you boomers Like me... I think that's the way it's said these days... –, you're not "just" the saint of the young, but a true testimony for us older ones too. Reading what you've written and what you've done with your life, I truly get the impression that you've transcended generational differences and been able to bring together earth and sky, joy and commitment, art and friendship, solidarity and complicity.
Yes, I like you very much. And it's beautiful to know that, a hundred years ago, a young man from a certainly bourgeois and privileged Italy literally dedicated his life to the sacred value of friendship, to the men and women of his time, and to experiencing poverty firsthand. Young, but instantly adult. Adult, but incredibly young.Cheerful, smiling, handsome, full of mystical ardour, alongside the poor people, passionate about faith and the Gospel.
In search of true relationships
You worked hard without liking. Sure, those were different times, and social media didn't even exist in the collective imagination, and you relied more on letters than before. But this solidarity you pursued rejects advertising; it's not flattering, it doesn't flirt; if anything, it's sincere, true, and fraternal, as only true hugs can be, anchored not in the moment but in the daily routine that demands sacrifice, renunciation, and a life of prayer. You immersed yourself in the suffering of humanity, without any ifs or buts.
Long live the mountain...
Then there's your passion for the mountains. Upward It's truly a mantra I feel particularly strongly about. I would have loved to take a mountain hike with you, accompanied by your reliable guide toward those mountains we feel are ours, that belong to the depths of our hearts. The mountains as a training ground for life, as a school of sanctity and respect for the wonders of creation. The mountains that demand attention and care, sacrifice and sweat. And yet they always give us the wonderful thrill of a journey that brings us closer to heaven, looking down toward the earth.
I was very struck by the devotion that so many young people showed you, that evening of November 30th, in the Basilica of Santa Maria sopra Minerva in Rome, where a vigil had been organized in your honor. mountain ice axe – your ice axe, a precious relic of your passage through this world – which was literally mobbed by young people. Everyone wanted to have their picture taken with it. As if that ice axe were you.
...and the Shady Types
But there's one thing I like most of all. That somewhat deliberately swashbuckling association you called "The Shady Types" drives me crazy. Because, you see, dear Pier Giorgio, despite a hundred years having passed, the tendency at times in our ecclesial communities is to be a bit sad, not inclined to smile. While, instead, we need more "shady types" within our territories and parishes, more young dispensers of hallelujah of the smile, lovers of art, beauty, music, good food and good wine, and above all, more cheerful, ironic adults, in love with the beauty of life and a daily life that is not just work and career.
The joy and healthy lightheartedness of those who don't take themselves too seriously is the salt of a life lived in supportive friendship, in the bonds of brotherhood that must be the foundation of every community of brothers and sisters.
In short, dear Pier Giorgio, I hope that some angel will deliver this letter of mine to you.I salute you as my favorite rope leader. And I nominate you as my second brother. I wonder what you would have thought knowing that the Italian Alpine Club (CAI) has established the Frassati Trails in every region, suitable for all ages, from experienced hikers to those just starting out.
I'll start climbing them one at a time, until I have the strength. And then, up there, I'll leave a flower on the summit cross. Imagining that you'll be watching me. With an extra smile.