The language of love needs no translation

Our community in Scutari (Albania) welcomed a visit from June 18-21 from a group of friends of varying ages and backgrounds, members of UNITALSI, from Bitonto (Puglia). For several years now, they have been offering generous and practical service at our Pastoral Center in Fermentim, renovating some areas and bringing gifts of food, clothing, and other useful items to this portion of the Albanian population. Their testimony as generous and joyful friends, brothers, and missionaries is always a gift to us.

Below is the testimony of Vincenzo, the group leader, who also tells us how the relationship with the Pastorelle Sisters of Scutari began. We thank the Lord for the fraternity we experienced during those days, for the loving visit we received, and we entrust Vincenzo and the group's journey to Mary, so that they may continue to live their mission of service, charity, and closeness to the poorest with faith and joy. Thank you!

"Enzo, you must go to Albania, where you will find a community of Pastorelle Sisters. Bring something... anything will be useful. This is the address; you will find an Italian nun named Sister Loredana Canzian, along with other sisters, and they live on the outskirts of a large city. Get organized and let me know." It was Father Ubaldo Aruanno, an elderly priest, who had met Sister Loredana when he was in the curia in Bari. And the three of us set off, like the blind man with the mussel in his hand who reached Taranto. It was May 26, 2017. And since then, we haven't stopped, because it feels like coming home.

Returning from our sixth mission to Albania, we carry in our hearts not only the places we visited, but above all the faces we met. Faces who perhaps didn't know our words, but who taught us something greater: that true understanding needs no language, because it comes from the heart.

We spoke with our eyes, we embraced with smiles, we recognized each other in silence. Every gesture, every glance, was a bridge between worlds different yet united by a single humanity. In those differences, we discovered a profound intimacy, a communion that only authenticity can generate.

And right there, in that simplicity, we recognized the presence of God: in the face of a child who smiled without asking for anything, in the outstretched hand of one who has little but gives everything, in the silent joy of those who welcomed us without knowing us.

But this journey also gave us something unexpected and precious: the unity between us. Different people, with different stories, who met by chance—or perhaps by providence—and who chose each other every day through sharing, toil, prayer, and joy. Amid the dust and the sun, between laughter and a silent gesture, a profound bond was born that endures, rooted in the good we've done together.

And then, in the silence of our return, we realized how alive all this was within us. How much we had changed, yet more authentic. We felt like "that magical moment after the preparations, when the boat sets sail and you feel alive, with only the horizon as your limit." That's exactly how we set out. And now, looking back, we understand that our horizons have expanded.

"Remember to live," Jovanotti reminds us, "and a complicit and invisible witness, and an ancient smile as a viaticum." We met that smile. We exchanged it. And now we carry it within us, like a promise that never fades.

We left to give, but we returned transformed. With hearts filled with life, and with the certainty that when love guides, the encounter becomes a miracle.

Thank you, Albania, for teaching us that the language of love, dignity, and hope is universal. And it needs no translation.

Community of Scutari - Albania