I work in a machinery and industrial facilities company where I am in charge of production and safety. For this reason, mine has not been an isolated quarantine; I have continued to go to the factory almost every day. Back home from work, I enjoy my family and my passions. A few days after the lockdown began, I got used to this situation. Then, one day, a friend, with whom I had organized a charity barbecue some time ago, launched this provocation in the organizers group chat: "In this time of conversion, why do we not convert this chat? There is need to help doctors and nurses in the hospital who are unable to have dinner.”

I was immediately ripped out of my comfort zone. An unexpected proposal, unforeseen, even a little risky, which involved going, clad in masks, to the entrances of the wards. This created some tension.

In just a few days, a network of families, food companies, supermarkets, all began to prepare dinner for about thirty people working in the ER and in the hospital’s two Covid wards. We would go to collect the food from the various homes and deliver it to the wards, every day of the week. At first, their surprise when they saw us arriving was great. Nurses, doctors, and health workers kept asking us: "Who are you?" We saw their eyes, behind their masks, fill with tears. Then, over time, the gesture became a ritual. They would wait for us, they no longer asked us who we were, but they knew we were coming.

Read also - The need to help and the certainty that sustains life

But why do I keep going back? I certainly do not go (just) to do good. I go for myself, mainly for myself and because of my desire to be happy. The repetition of a daily gesture can become obvious, trivial, it can empty itself of meaning. However, I cannot but recognize how this simple gesture helps me. On the contrary, it offers me an opportunity to be touched by the grace of Jesus, who has chosen such a new and simple way to allow me to perceive His good. So the journey to the hospital in a car with a friend becomes a possibility. The moved gaze of a nurse behind her mask becomes an opportunity. But an opportunity for what? A chance for me to receive the grace of His Presence.

Donato, Forlì, Italy#Coronavirus