Sometimes I live without newness. I do try to respond to what life asks from me, I do try to be generous and attentive, and yet it’s like reality has nothing new to tell me. One of the consequences of this way of living is that I find myself always on the verge of complaining: if this or that would be different, if only I could fix this problem, etc. Then, I would be happy. Or, in front of something beautiful and say, 'This is beautiful', but without being really moved deep-down, inside. This was my condition when I left Miami on Thursday evening to go to New York for the Encounter.

During the weekend in New York, one fact after another made me aware of my lack of expectations, and led me to desire everything again. Here are some of these facts.

First of all, I saw a lot of people who had different positions from mine; they went there like kids going to a candy store, absolutely happy to be there! Like my young friend Isabel and her father Joe from Florida, Tim from Houston, Natalie from Puerto Rico, Father Branson from Atlanta, and an Italian professor of literature who came to the Encounter for the first time. In their gaze was evident precisely what I was missing, which is a heart that is in awe because of the newness that was happening in front of their eyes.

Once Father Giussani said, "the taste for newness is able to paint or define the face of a child who has his or her eyes wide open in front of something beautiful” (L’Inesorabile Presenza, p. 89).

The witness of Bishop Nona was another of those facts which brought me back to myself. He told us a few times that we have everything we need to be happy. A guy persecuted by ISIS, who told us that we have everything we need to be happy, because we have everything we need to live: our faith. It’s like he was telling me, 'Forget about your complaints, Enrico! What you are missing is the awareness of something that you already have, which is the love of God for you.' I’ve never met Bishop Nona personally, but because of his faith he has really become a dear friend. I guess this is what communion looks like.

Among many, there was a second witness particularly significant in this path of reawakening of my heart. It was that of Nancy, who told us about her work with people with disabilities, followed by showing us pictures. You could look to those pictures and say, 'There’s nothing exceptional in there, they are just normal pictures of normal people.' But it’s not true! Through the eyes of Nancy, I could see that there is a possibility to look at reality (the particular aspects of my job, the people I meet, my little talents) for what they really are: immense gifts given to me. And, to acknowledge this makes you love; it makes you love the other person freely, for his or her destiny. And, it makes you live life with gratitude.

We are made for the Infinite. To live for something less than the Infinite (this everything that I mentioned before) it’s not enough. The New York Encounter is a place where people are not afraid to live at the level. This is something astonishing to me. How is this possible? It is only possible because the Infinite was made flesh and dwells among us. He is present in His flesh, through the flesh of a people.

Newness is back. Reality speaks. I’m grateful again.