We have just got ourselves to a beautiful country house in West Sussex where we hope to have a great retreat. But it is Friday night after a long week. So we thought we would do something that helps us to get into "retreat mode". On the plan we have a showing of the documentary of Pedro Ballester's life. Since we know the family, we invited his mother, Esperanza, to connect with us through Zoom to make the experience even more relevant.
It is often said that holy people had holy parents. This is the case of Pedro's mum too. And I'm sure Dad, Pedro Senior, as well. But we didn't think of connecting with him.
We first have Esperanza with us on the big screen and she is talking to us with the same affection as she probably talked to Pedro. We feel as if she is our own mother. She talks to us about all the good that we can do with our life. About how Pedrito spread love to everyone without making distinctions...
A question from the audience: Did you feel your son was a saint while he was still with you?
The answer: Of course he was very special to me and I thought very highly of him but he was a very normal boy. Nothing extraordinary. Just a guy who loved his friends unconditionally.
(That's the theme of our retreat! God's unconditional love for us.)
Another question: What was your initial reaction when he told you he was planning to give his life to God as a Numerary in Opus Dei?
Answer: She replied that she thought about it and came to the conclusion that she was delighted because she could see that Pedrito was very, very happy and peaceful.
Her parting words: "Be your true selves, be who you're meant to be, be true to what is in your heart."
We then watched the documentary.
Laughter and sobs all throughout.
What can we say? Martha, one of the leaders, knew him and is levitating.
Some of the girls confess that they have watched it already "a billion times" but they still love it. Others had never watched it and are speechless.
It's OK, we have a whole weekend to pray about what we have seen. We are feeling inspired.

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