Cristi tells a story: “Father always hit us. Mother also. I ran away with my brother. We came to Bucharest on the train. Thank God we found a new home. But I had to think about Mother and Father a lot, even in my sleep. I went back home for the first time after ten years. The school year was ending. I was afraid to see everything again. An educator came with me. But Mother was completely different. She had heard where I was now. I brought my school marks with me and she looked at them. Father was no longer there. Other men had come. Mother had a new husband again and a small child. There are eight of us. When it was time to go, she took me in her arms. I told her that Concordia was my family now. She was really nice. I‘m going to visit her again.”

Twelve years have passed since we found Cristi at the train station together with his brother. They were little and slept in a big box. They have been with us since then. Cristi is a very good pupil, he has a wonderful voice and he loves languages. At seventeen, he is no longer a child; he is more like an educator in the Children‘s House St. Ignatius. His difficult childhood, no, understanding, made Cristi strong.

Insights which heal and make one strong arrive under the fig tree according to the Bible. The fig tree is the image of the school of life. In its shadow teachers and pupils find calm and space to learn. Adam and Eve used the leaves to cover themselves when they recognized that they were naked. The fig tree is the tree of awareness. Whoever eats from it discerns the difference between good and evil. He is no longer a child. As an adult, a person can conquer evil and give thanks for that which is good. Beneath the fig tree he learns to understand and finds the power to engage himself for others. Whoever sits there recognizes the next step along the way. The prophet Micha promises peace in the future with the image of every man and every woman under their fig tree.

Under the fig tree is our motto for the new work year. We think about the children whom we accompany to adulthood. They have to eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge. They should learn to discern between good and evil. But the hours beneath the fig tree, the time to reflect, are also important for us. There I sense where I am needed most.

In the Republic of Moldova thousands of children in state run orphanages are starving for love. Tuberculoses and hepatitis are rampant throughout the country. Valerie was so moved by the pale and silent children that she started a campaign to save them with her family and friends. More and more voices can be heard coming out of our City of Children in Pirita. The voices are becoming stronger, the joy can‘t be missed. I have to think of the psalm: You have turned my crying into dancing. We are building new houses for children. Another two hundred children will find a place and be able to rejoice by Christmas. Angela King from Vorarlberg is training the assistants and accompanies the development.

Dear friends, the fig tree gives us the gift of closeness. With each other we won’t run out of ideas and strength. With prayers and thanks I am

Your,

Father Georg Sporschill, SJ

Bucharest, Summer 2006

Tip: You can learn more about our work and all of our letters in the book (in German):
Georg Sporschill, Die zweite Meile.
Wien 2006, Ueberreuter Verlag.