Being born is not enough. It is to be born again that we are born

Here in the project in Greece, in these first weeks full of encounters, exchanges of glances and silences, I have thought many times about the words of Pablo Neruda's poem: “Being born is not enough. It is to be born again that we are born”.
These words come back to my mind my mind every time we go to the camps of Ritsona and Malakasa, and I see the walls made of concrete and barbed wire demarcating the space, I smell the smell of the chemical industry wafting through the air, and I see the guards at the entrance of the camp watching attentively every move.
I have always been convinced, and I am even more convinced now that I am carrying a life in my womb, that the gift of life is a great thing, a shout of joy towards a new dimension, where everything gets a new shape, a new sound, a new smell and a new colour. We gradually learn to know this immense world and understand its magical dynamics.

We are never alone in all these transitions, we are helped to be born by the safe hands of a midwife, then welcomed by the warm embraces of our family and raised by an entire educating community. In short, growing up is a great job and a great undertaking.
Here in Greece, in the south of Europe, inside a camp for asylum seekers, is it still so magical to be born?
To be welcomed by parents who hold many hopes and dreams of a better life for their kids, yet finding themselves living their present, that sometimes extends over many years of their lives, stuck in a limbo.
Far from all services, not connected by public transport to the city, and where normality becomes raising your family in a container, cold in winter and hot in summer, waiting anxiously, as one usually does for a birthday present, for documents that are late to arrive.
In all this, however, one continues to be born, because life is stronger than death and these little seeds find the strength to take root even in a tiny piece of land, they manage to break through the concrete and blossom.
However, these babies need to be born twice: the first time requires them to learn to move and grow in a world that is hard and hostile to them as early as their birth.
But the second birth depends on us, on what we will be able to give to these new lives, and when I say give, I do not mean just clothes and food (which are fundamental), but also hugs, smiles, shared serene moments and hope. All of us putting our hands to work, each one as they can, and together forming an educating and welcoming community that works every day to remove the causes of small and great injustices, creating a fertile ground where these new lives can find their place in the world.
Overall, if adding a pinch of civil disobedience was necessary, it is better to add it here and there in small doses, because, as father Milani reminds us, obedience is not the only way to love the law, it is also trying to change it if it does not protect the most vulnerable.