I was wearing my boots; it rained heavily that day. I left the house, and I don't remember exactly why, but strangely, I had decided to put them on even though I only had a short distance to walk. There was a lot of mud. I think that, upon seeing me already so geared up, the invitation came spontaneously from Brigida: "Will you accompany me to pick some mangoes?"
It was a request not based on safety reasons but simply the desire to reach those large trees, pick some fruit, and have one together: “solita no quiero ir, mi hijo está cansado" (Transl. I don't want to go alone, my son is tired.)
And that's how, in just a few minutes, I found myself climbing the hill in front of the Peace Community’s entrance, a community land, to collect some mangoes that had fallen due to the heavy rain that had just passed. "What wonderful trees; we've had two bad years, but look how full of fruit they are!"
"Brigida, do you know that we often tell your 'mango story'? About how long it takes from planting to seeing the fruits, about what hope means to you. And now, I find myself here with you, picking these fruits, symbol of resistance, love, but above all, perseverance on this challenging path of peace." She turns her gaze slowly backward, but she is not looking at me; she is looking at the boot prints left behind as we reached these majestic mango trees. How many years of struggle for you, dear Brigida. How much mud in your life. How many mangoes collected.

“Sì Silvia, hay que seguir sembrando en medio de tanta violencia que está destruyendo la vida humana y la naturaleza...no podemos descansar.” (Transl. Yes, Silvia, we must continue to sow in the midst of so much violence that is destroying human life and nature... we cannot rest.)
This is the "journey" of Operazione Colomba, amidst hardships and long waits, in the hope of a possible peace, attainable only through the maturation of justice and truth, through nonviolence.
Here, in the Peace Community, the land is fertile.

S.