“Here is what we have…”

Sr Elisabetta Scaravaggi writes:

Among the many experiences of missionary life that have helped me most to see the Lord in His incarnation, I like to recall one that takes me back to the first days after our arrival in Venezuela.
The parish of Playa Grande, with which we were collaborating in our evangelising work, included many realities, small churches and populations scattered over a territory the size of an Italian Province, so the two parish priests, although animated by a great spirit of sacrifice (and two hole-proof cars!) could not reach all the small centres where they had sown the Word of the Gospel and where on Sundays the small seeds waited for the necessary care to grow. They asked us to take their place on a Sunday in one of these centres.
We ventured by car along ever narrower roads, until, having arrived at the end of the red earth road, we were met by the local catechist, who showed us the temporary place where we could experience the celebration of the Word: a small ‘gazebo’, four poles open on all four sides, with a straw roof. We placed Jesus on an approximate banquette and, as the faithful, who had followed the car as we passed, arrived, we settled in for the liturgy and began. At the moment of the offertory, we explained that we would not be able to do the offertory that is celebrated at Holy Mass, but we would sing a song and offer to Jesus, who was present there, the joys and labours of the past days, gathering in our hearts the desire that the Father would use them to unite them with Jesus in the Eucharistic sacrifice. Then a scene unfolded before my eyes that I will never forget: as soon as we began the song, some young men appeared behind us: they were carrying buckets of freshly caught fish, nets washed by the waves of the sea, arms tired from the work that is necessary for the survival of their families.
Never has the Gospel seemed so close to me, the life of our life, of their simple life, the light that illuminates the gestures of everyday life, that becomes an offering of the little to live on, even if it passes by and does not stop, even if it greets with a smile and a quick sign of the cross. When the celebration was over, we went to see where they were coming from and then, on the beach that only Caribbean landscapes are capable of showing, I really seemed to see Jesus’ footsteps and His smile for me, that when, frightened by my littleness, I let Him go on, I continue to see wonders of grace!