Let's face it: in the historical panorama in which we live and of which we receive more alarming news every day, talking about courage seems almost "out of tune" to us. In fact, everything leads us to become discouraged, trapped between the insecurity of situations that are bigger than us and performance expectations that condition us.
But having courage does not mean not feeling fear, pain or helplessness. Sometimes it simply means not letting yourself be overwhelmed and finding the strength to carry on. And often this strength is born precisely when we don't face what happens to us alone.
Chiara Lubich writes: «If there is a mysterious reality in our life it is pain. […] Even those who are close to us and love us are often incapable of helping us resolve it; yet sometimes we just need someone to share it with us, perhaps in silence.»[1]
The key word is precisely this: “sharing”. Because it also takes courage to step outside of ourselves, get closer to others and not remain indifferent to what they experience.
Even in the darkest moments, we try to find the strength to overcome evil with good. Let us not close ourselves off, but remain open to others, taking care of them with small concrete gestures, both in our daily actions and in our social commitment to building the common good.
Sometimes, one person's courage is made possible by others who, in times of need, choose not to look the other way. This is shown in the story told by Mario Calabresi of his meeting with Alì, a highly regarded tailor who works in a small shop in a city in Northern Italy. "A life that amazes anyone who wants to distance themselves from the simplifications of our time. Think of how many could be applied to Alì, reducing him to a number, one of many: "refugee", "illegal immigrant", "illegal who arrived on a boat", "asylum seeker"...
Because Ali was all these things (…). Alì managed to conquer a peaceful and normal life, the one his parents dreamed of, because he found people who in the most difficult moments stretched out a hand and didn't let him sink. It happened when in the woods on the border with Bulgaria a voice told him to change direction so as not to be hit by the border guards; it happened when his friend Ahmad dragged him onto the deck of the boat that was taking them to Italy, to prevent him from suffocating". And then it continued when a mayor of a small town in the south of Italy hosted him in the house of an old aunt who had recently passed away and when two retired professors from a small village in the other extreme of Italy, in the north, opened their house to him so that he would not sleep at the station, or in the park. And when a group of friends guaranteed the rental of the shop with the agency. Concludes Calabresi: “His story appeals to me says others can make a difference. The others are us."[2]
Perhaps courage is also this: moving forward thanks to the hand that someone extends to us and, when it's our turn, having the courage to extend it to others.