No holidays for the homeless

By Alessandro Gisotti

The first words of a famous Italian song—Azzurro—in which Adriano Celentano sings "I wait for summer all year long and suddenly it’s here", aptly capture the spirit with which Italians, across the board, experience the arrival of much-anticipated summer holidays. In Italy, as in other Western countries, holidays - time off - have long been recognized as a genuine right. Even the Popes have emphasized the importance of taking time off from work to nurture important relationships, starting with family, and to be able to relish Creation, which is freely given to each of us. Thus, “holiday” is not synonymous with idleness but rather a fruitful time in which to focus on life's values and to slow down when the pace of society prevents us from fully understanding what happens around us every day.

At the same time, "going on holiday" immediately evokes the natural human inclination to travel. Humans have always been on the move, perpetually in motion. As Saint Augustine said: "The world is a book. Those who do not travel read only one page." It is no coincidence that today we commonly say "I'm going on holiday," using a verb that indicates movement; otherwise, the holiday would not truly feel like such. Yet, in our sun-drenched cities, starting with Rome, which hasn’t been so crowded with tourists for a long time, there is a whole "population" that will not go on holiday because even this right, among many others, is denied to them: they are the poor. They, who are invisible, or perhaps simply viewed with indifference, will not be granted this opportunity. A few years ago, great attention was given to the news that the papal almoner, Cardinal Konrad Krajewski, took a group of homeless people to spend a day at the beach. Equally astonishing was the first visit of a group of homeless people to the Sistine Chapel, offered by the Pope. These two seemingly small gestures were significant because they highlighted how the poor—like, and even more than those who are not living in poverty—need spaces and opportunities for enjoyment and to appreciate the beauty of art, of which Italy is an inexhaustible treasure trove.

So why not try and imagine, during this summer of 2024, how every city, big or small, could organize such initiatives? After all, putting at the centre those who are on the periphery, those who are so marginalized that often we don't even see them, is a way to mend our social and civil fabric. By doing so we would discover that among those who are "discarded" there is great richness, not only of humanity, but also of professional experiences, cultures, and intelligence, as can be seen in the reading of "L’Osservatore di Strada" (L’Osservatore Romano’s monthly newspaper produced in collaboration with the poor) which brings the stories of the very last in society to the fore.

Alongside the poor, there is another "population" that suffers particularly in summer and is very close to Pope Francis's heart: the elderly. For them, the emptied cities, the decrease of public services, and families who are away pose difficult challenges. As Archbishop Vincenzo Paglia observed, "Our elderly do not die from the heat but from loneliness and abandonment." Yet it is the grandparents who, during the rest of the year, take on the role of a true "welfare state," especially with their grandchildren. From the beginning of his pontificate, the Pope has strongly emphasized the need for an alliance between young and old to open the future to a wounded humanity. He has encouraged young people not to leave the elderly alone, by following the biblical example of Ruth, who did not abandon her elderly mother-in-law Naomi. There is no valid alternative to this mutual support between generations if we truly want to make the society in which we live more humane. At least this principle, Pope Francis seems to tell us, should never go on holiday.