His friendship with Fr. Giussani saved his life. Since then, he has been caring for the incurables of Paraguay. The silence at dawn, the house for the orphans, the gratitude of politicians, and the pizzeria; then there is his life in the clinic, alongside those whose days are numbered. In San Rafael, the day begins early. In the misty morning light, you can just make out the shapes of people rushing to the small chapel of the Blessed Sacrament, which is open 24 hours a day.
The gatekeeper has orders to open up the outer gate to anyone who wants to pray, even at in the morning. Aldo loves this small chapel, with its dozen seats and tiny altar, for its silence.
Alberto had just left, and I—I! Aldo the chaplain. Sometimes on Mondays, a car stops before the entrance of the parish, at am on the dot, and the Vice President of Paraguay, Federico Franco, comes in and says Morning Prayer along with the priests in addition to Fr.
Aldo, there are Fr. Paolino Buscaroli and Fr. The Vice President is a good friend of San Rafael. The clinic is like a five-star hotel; the school has well-qualified teachers.
Abandoned people, street children, the elderly, the dying, the sick whom all the hospitals reject are at home here. It is like the Gospel passage: the last shall be first. The last amongst Paraguayans are those best cared for in San Rafael, and this is thanks to the temperament, the force, the affection, and the charism of Fr.
