My daughter, my brother, my sister,
If today I could sit beside you, in the midst of this restless and disenchanted world, I would ask only one thing: pause for a moment and listen. Allow me to share with you what Easter has meant in my life.
Easter was never just a holiday, nor merely a ritual to repeat year after year. It is the encounter with the most radical Love — the Crucified One — Love in its purest, most self-giving form, broken and poured out for the sake of others. Easter is the dawn of a new life, no longer lived for oneself, but offered wholly for those in need, for those who suffer, for those who dwell in the shadows.
I came to understand this through deep contemplation of the Crucified Christ — not gazing upon Him with the eyes of the body, but with the eyes of the heart. As I beheld Him, I heard a whisper in the silence: “Inspice et fac” — Look, and do likewise. And I understood: it was not enough to love the poor from afar, with the generosity of a noblewoman, nor to pray for them behind cloistered walls. I was called to walk beside them, to be among them, to give of myself so they might know their dignity, and know they are loved.
And so I left the drawing rooms of my palace and entered the courtyards of poverty, to serve not only with my hands, but with my heart. It was there that I found my true place in the world. There, I discovered joy. There, I encountered glory — not the glory of status or renown, but the glory born of humility, the glory that springs from love without measure. For the Cross is not merely a sorrow to be mourned; it is a school of Love, where one learns to give all, and above all, to give oneself — expecting nothing in return.
I know that, today, many feel distant from such a radical call. Life moves quickly, language shifts, and faith can seem like a fading echo from another time. Yet the voice of the Crucified still speaks. He is alive, He is present, and today He calls you — just as He once called me in the days of my youth. It is not a matter of mimicking ancient devotions, but of loving and serving with the very Heart of Christ, right where you are: in your family, your work, your community.
The Charism entrusted to me by the Holy Spirit — the Charism of Charity, that free and boundless love revealed on Calvary in the seeming powerlessness of the Cross — allowed me to glimpse the exchange of love between Mary, the Mother, and her Son, Jesus. An endless current of divine love from which none of us is excluded.
This, too, is a path of salvation for you. Daily life is no perfect haven; it is a workshop of mercy, where communion is born from our shared frailty. True Easter arises there — when you choose to love in spite of all, to serve not because you are strong, but because you trust in the One who is strong within you.
So, would you truly celebrate Easter with me?
Gaze upon the Crucified.
Let Him gaze upon you.
Then… love. And serve.
Yours in Christ,
Maddalena