At the Police Headquarters
Once again, here I was in this soulless room where every place is occupied
by African, Chinese and Latin-American faces - Sadness show deeply in their
eyes. No one speaks. Silence hides their anxiety. The time goes by without
a sign of impatience. Needless to say that the "without papers"
are used to waiting. Months and years waiting for a small piece of paper
bearing an official stamp. A small paper, a dream come true, which will
allow them to live without fear, to finally be like everybody else.
But, will they be granted this piece of paper? Nothing is less certain.
Eight of us accompany Djamel. And he is thankful for not being alone.
He did not sleep, he did not eat. He waits!
The loudspeaker calls his name. The crucial moment has finally arrived.
At the service window, the person is friendly and understanding. Djamel
is granted a three months permit. He is radiant with happiness. It is the
first step to a decisive stage.
Back on the street, he waves the paper and declares: Now, I exist.
Staunch Christians - I was invited by communities
from several regions of Germany. They do not know me. But I carry their
same desire for fraternity and sharing, the same willingness to be a different
kind of Christian, the same desire to live by the Gospel. Their freedom
of character is healthy.
From where do they get their vitality? The meeting of Christians, neither
indifferent nor submissive, gives me joy. However even though tired of being
cautious or of being refused by the institution, they show no aggressiveness.
Although exhausted in their expectations for what they have never stopped
demanding, they still keep their Faith. To live for those abandoned by society
is their aim in life.
These communities, staunch followers of the Gospel, are scattered all
over the country. Why not then, bring them together so they may spread the
word and their spiritual love. This brings to mind Rimboud, who wrote, with
a sense of humour:
I stretch the rope from village to village, the garlands from window
to window, the gold chains from star to star - and I dance!

Jacques Gaillot
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