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Looking at the images of Buenos Aires taken by satellites from space, in the northern region, very close to the river, can be observed as a flash, a light reverberance, small but unmistakable.
Let's get it as if it were a photographic lens or separate our fingers as resting on a cellular device. We will come to see on a wooded street with old paradises, an English style house. With a fence to the front and a very well-kept garden behind. Full of white and yellow flowers no matter the time of year. And on one side, a chapel of the Virgin of Lourdes .
When I was invited to meet the hospice san camilo I hesitated enough to accept. With misery and arrogance I thought of my dead and my pain. And I said, “I've got my thing, what else for? “.
But then they told me about the guests and the work of volunteers (everyone who works there are volunteers). I found out what they tell him the house of hope and something, like a pearl is formed by wrapping a grain of sand It enveloped my fears. And transforming their roots they made a warm nest for my heart.
Sitting inside the car under a legendary tree I wondered if I was doing the right thing, if necessary. I could let the note do another, make me on one side, and I looked at the tree. So many storms and rains, so many hearts teenagers and broken branches and it was still there, a paradise in front of a house of death.
I rang a bell. “Hello, are you Marcelo? Welcome to the house of hope “.
The smile of the volunteer who opened the door for me could only be compared to that hit-down of light that was pushing her out to meet me. For a moment I squinted, everything inside had a higher graduation, everything inside that house was shining a little brighter. I had prepared myself for a dark and sad place and that nursery fluorescence captivated me. It was clear that any record of death that lived in my memory had nothing to do there. That luggage was supposed to be left on the sidewalk.
I came in. I don't know what amazed me the most . And I don't know if the word amazement is right to encompass everything I felt at the time. As in a square of games, life was everywhere in the delicious steamers that came from the kitchen. The pressurous and happy steps of volunteers trying to fulfill guests' requests. Home noises, home, so forgotten in places of “health”.
Now that I read my notes I understand what amazed me most on that first visit. The love in all its forms and gestures. The love to those guests usually very forgotten for so many years by all.
And as one volunteer told me, “Forgotten by everyone but God. The best thing that can happen to us is that in every gesture, in every word, they find themselves. Because then they'll be finding God. And when that happens the guest again happens to have a name and is no longer the patient in bed 38 or 121. Start a process of healing that heals his soul and heart. At a much higher speed than any expensive luxury car can develop.”
Those guests who now became Javier, Mariano or Luisa as when they were children, and who has a story to tell - because we all have a story - are heard and blessed. It doesn't matter what they've done or their past, because this is the house of the hope , this is the hospice san camilo . And from here, everyone, everyone, the guests, the volunteers, and even me who went alone to make a note, we all went out redeemed.
Hospice San Camilo is a place of help and assistance to patients, without the possibility of curative treatments, in a terminal process. In the house is not only given containment and company, absolutely free of charge to the sick, but also to his relatives. All those have a priority treatment sick who are in a greater vulnerable situation .
Publication Date: 24/05/2020
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Gracias Marcelo Por este lindisimo articulo leerlo contagia tu emoción y refleja lo que realmente se vive en esa casa
En respuesta a
Leer esta nota me alegra .el alma, después de ver tanta miseria en la gente, es un bálsamo que da esperanza
En respuesta a
Marcelo Bella nota y digna de compartir. Yo sé lo que es la Bella casa de la esperanza !!!!! Hay un huésped muy muy cercano ahí mío. No tengo palabras de agradecimiento a ese maravillo grupo voluntarios y los enfermeros/as. Los familiares están contenidos con todo su amor. Doy gracias a dios haberlos conocido. Bendiciones y ya sea un granito colaboren con ellos INFINITAMENTE GRACIAS!!!!
Excelente relato. Transmite emociones muy encendidas y una mirada distinta. Gracias
Leí la nota, excelente, sobre todo por la carga emocional del escritor. Yo tampoco sabía que existía. Hay gente que labura con el corazón en la mano y eso te pone la piel de gallina. Excelente nota y aún más la acción que llevan adelante estas personas.
Marcelo, es un relato breve pero muy intenso que transmite gratas emociones. Te felicito !!
Marcelo, Gracias por hacerme redimir y volver a tener Esperanzas, acercándome al Hospice, a su gente y a su obra, a través de tus hermosas y sentidas palabras Y Gracias a todos los que llevan adelante esta Obra, que Dios los Bendiga y nos haga partícipes a todos de esta Celebración a la Vida...en todas sus formas, que en la muerte encuentra Nueva Vida y Luz
El voluntariado del Hospice sale del alma...nada mas. Las horas se hacen cortas y se llenan con amor. Fui voluntaria durante mas de 10 años, ahora ya estoy grande y hay tanta gente joven para experimentar esa felicidad... Años inolvidables, personas inolvidables, experiencias inolvidables... La FELICIDAD de mis sábados por la tarde durante muchos años...
Leer este bello relato, en el cual transmitís las emociones de ese lugar y las tuyas propias. Que bueno que se conozca que hay lugares y personas con tanta capacidad de dar amor. Una caricia al alma. Excelente Marce!!!! Te felicito!!!
Como siempre, tu fuerte es lo descriptivo. Lo bello de leer esas frases e imaginar con claridad lo que describís. Uno se puede sumergir en ese momento y prácticamente estar a tu lado. Felicitaciones por la combinación de tiempo y palabra!
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