Which Pope said that? – Where is Peter


Dear Pinocchio,

I was seven years old when I read your Adventures for the first time. I can’t tell you how much I loved them and how many times I’ve read them since. The fact is that in you I recognized myself as a boy, and in your surroundings I saw mine.

How many times have you rushed into the woods, crossed the fields, run to the beach, on the main roads! And with you ran the Cat and the Fox, the poodle Medoro, the children of the battle of the books. They seemed like my moose, my playmates, the roads and fields of my village.

You went to see the carnival carriages when they entered the square; me too. You hesitated, pursed your lips, put your head under the covers rather than drink the glass of bitter medicine; I did too. The slice of bread buttered on both sides; the candy with a liquor inside; the “little ball of sugar”, and, on certain occasions, even an egg, even a pear, even pear peelings, represented for you a radiant, greedy and always hungry “high”: it was the same for me.

[…]

You will experience it: a difficult age, both for you and for your educators. No longer being a child, you will indeed avoid the company, the books, the games of the little ones; not yet a man, you will feel misunderstood and practically rejected by adults.

You will feel the overwhelming need to assert your ego. On the one hand, you will be at odds with your home and school environment; on the other, you will plunge headlong into the solidarity of a “gang”. On the one hand, you insist on independence from family; on the other, you hunger and thirst to be “accepted” by those of your age, to be dependent on them.

What a fear of being different from others! Where is the gang going, there you want to go. Where the gang stops, there you want to stop. Other people’s jokes, language and hobbies become yours. What they wear, you wear. One month, all the boys are wearing blue T-shirts and jeans; the following month, all have leather jackets, colored pants, white laces for black shoes. In some things non-conformist; in other things, unconscious, one hundred percent conformists.

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Fri. Pope John Paul I

(Amazon page)

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