Young people seek safe guides. A landfill is turned into a community center

I’ve lost count of the number of trips I have been able to take recently, thanks to books about the upcoming saint, Carlo Acutis, especially since publishing my novel “You Were Born Original; Don’t Live as a Photocopy” (Mimep Docete 2017).

Each of these talks about the book has left an indelible mark on my heart for various reasons. While each talk is similar to the others, they remain unique.

The last presentation I gave was truly special and unforgettable, as it gave me the opportunity to acutely observe the reality of the resurrection.

I was able to witness what happens when someone truly invests in young people, even in an environment that is full of hardship.

I had travelled to Naples – actually, to a suburb notorious for drug dealing – in late May for the conference. The location itself was nice, and as soon as people walked in, the staff made you feel welcomed.

Those who walk in are made to feel right at home, with all its spaces dedicated to studying, watching movies, playing basketball, having meals, etc. It’s comfortable and familiar, simple and modest, but lovely. Both the people who work there and those who frequent it have a particular kindness and possess that warmth typical of southern Italy.

In light of this, I was surprised by what I learned about the state of this area just a couple decades prior.

They show me photos of what looks to me like a completely different place, degraded and abandoned. “This is where you’re currently standing,” the priest who is in charge of the spiritual formation of people who come to the center tells me. He continues, “Right here, until recently, was an abandoned dumping ground.” Today, The Emmaus Inn Association, a non-profit, stands in its place.

He added that the neighborhood used to be over-run by drug dealing, and the neighborhood is still deeply scarred by the problem of drugs and is at high risk of crime, yet the center is like a magnet for lots of young people who are looking for authority figures they can trust and a place they can go and feel safe – an alternative to the norm in that neighborhood.

It’s a place not only for young people, but for families as well – like the couple I met who lost a daughter and find support from their community there – and women who find themselves raising children without the support of their husbands. They’re able to be part of their own programs the center offers that are specifically designed for mothers. Their kids become little mascots for everyone who comes to the center.

That evening, I found myself speaking about Carlo Acutis and other young witnesses of faith (such as Blessed Chiara Luce Badano and Sr. Clare Crockett) to a huge crowd of children, adults, teens, and formators at the center.

I was struck by the innumerable testimonies shared with me that warm May day and the feedback I got. Their gazes and stories left an indelible impression on me about the power of resurrection.

I was touched by the stories of young people who haven’t had easy lives – those whose fathers were imprisoned for beating the kids’ mothers… Those who have a parent under house arrest… Those who suffer real economic hardship, because their family members spent all their money on drugs… Single mothers who have found work at the center… University students who can chase their dreams thanks to the scholarships offered by the center and who study day and night to earn the community’s trust.

A garbage dump has become a place of transformation for people who want a better future, a place for young people who want to make something of themselves and have a life better than what they see on the streets of their neighborhood.

That dump stands for a place where the most beautiful flowers bloom through the cracks in the pavement.

I admit, when I was invited to speak there, I thought I would be the one offering something to the audience. Maybe, in some small way, that was the case. However, I am convinced that I received so much more than I gave.

I left the talk filled with hope. I thought to myself: Nothing is impossible – you just have to believe in humanity. I realized while talking to the priest in charge of the center’s mission: If we open our lives to what is good, there is sure to be a reward soon on its way to us.