The beautiful expiring, “beautiful hope”, is not simply a ship that furrows the blue of the Mediterranean: it is a floating house, a seminar of real life, a laboratory of peace where cultures and faiths meet not on geographical maps, but in the faces, in the emotions, in the silences that speak more of the words. Months of navigation, seven stages already completed, Dozens of young people who have left their lands bringing questions, wounds, dreams, hope. And it is precisely from these testimonies that a powerful voice rises: not ideal, but concrete, which transforms the horizon of peace from a distant destination on the path possible.
Yara, born in Lebanon, says that the journey is “a journey without knowing that it would change my life”. After two weeks, when she returned home, she found himself with “new friends from all over the Mediterranean”, with “connections that healed my inner child” and with hope – concrete hope – that young people are truly able to change. Not for theoretical speeches, says Yara, but for the way they lived, suffered, rice, cry together: “What has started as a dialogue through words is over as a dialogue through actions”.
Hamdi, a young Tunisian, lived in Cyprus an experience of dialogue between religions that led him to rediscover himself. Being Muslim, says, was not an obstacle, but a responsibility that has proudly accepted in this space of mutual respect. When other participants witnessed his Muslim prayer, out of curiosity or respect, and he participated in a Christian mass, he heard that what really matters is active listening. Not only the great discussions, but the small gestures – to share a meal, laugh, remain silent – have become moments when the sense of dialogue has embodied.
Nosra, from Tunisia, explains that navigation, life aboard a vintage vessel hoisting sails, facing the sea and nature, discussions on the most urgent themes – climate change, women’s rights, interreligious dialogue, construction of peace – They have amplified his vision of the world. Separate for some moments from the continuity and comfort of “normal” life, Nosra has learned that simplicity can be powerful, that human contact is cure, that the sea teaches to get out of its comfort zone. And he saw how a common ground emerges between different faiths: not a forced uniformity, but a lively respect that builds bridges.
Diego, from Spain, brings another narrative lever: He arrived with “many unanswered questions” and starts again with new questions that will accompany him forever. He discovered, on the boat, that happiness does not require much: “Sometimes friends are enough, a task that gives us a purpose, a place to sleep and something to feed the body and soul”. The waves, the wind, the nature – the dolphins, the plankton at night – become revelations: it does not matter in which God we believe, if we believe, but how we keep the creation, how we take care of the sea, how we accept the other. And he saw that he resist, together, with his own diversity, is already an act of peace.
Francesc, also from Spain, reflects on the border between what is arbitrary (the place where you are born, the family that touches you), and the tension towards a sense of life that can only be shared. For Francesc, faith is not an order that takes away freedom, but a horizon: does not eliminate the absurdity of life, but offers a way to walk in the midst of it. Through migration, the boundaries, the suffering testified, has encountered humanity that migrates as something that asks for only dignity, more than fear. The contradictions of the world injure him, but also saw how, in the heart of diversity, in the fragile community that forms on a small boat, there is already a possible model of new human society: not perfect, imperfect, but deeply human.
Amina, from Bosnia and Herzegovina, brings a touch of contemplation and interiority that leads to silence. From the first moment, he says, he understood that it would not have been only to cross the sea, but to overcome personal barriers. The first evening, when the seasickness hit and everyone found themselves “sick and weak”, was a necessary “reset”. Then you learn to adapt, accept what you cannot control, appreciate the beauty of the dawn, colors, stars, understand that resources – food, water, energy – are not obvious; Put the other before yourself because in every choice everyone’s life is intertwined. Then when you return to the ground, you make how much the sea – for many a border or a threat – for you it has become a school, mirror, care: the stars, the sunsets, the silent nights, but the smiles, the looks, the lessons of patience, humility, gratitude are missing. And that awareness that peace begins in gestures, even small, kind, newspapers.
And now, everything that these young people have lived and testified flows into the final stretch Naples-Marseille. Not like an arrival, but as a promise: that their experiences do not remain relics of the past, but seeds to plant in the hearts of their communities. Their voices tell us that peace is not an abstract construction, but a plot made of relationships: listening, opening, sharing, unexpected events, silences, laughter, tears.
When Yara talks about the “dialogue through actions”, when Hamdi tells of the shared prayer, when Nosra says that navigation is school of resilience, when Diego feels that happiness does not require much, when Francesc challenges the idea of the borders as walls and Amina chooses gratitude to return: here is the living tissue of what it means to build peace. Not only the cessation of conflicts, but the end of the divisions; Not only the rhetoric of words, but the practice of the meeting.
The prayer of Bari – “We need to raise the voice to the sky together” – assumes, with these stories, a concrete body. It is not an empty echo, but vibration: in the hands that the sails hoist, in the tired but happy faces, in the awareness that every dawn brought by the sea is a gift, and every port touched is responsibility.
The beautiful hope reaches its last stretch. Naples and Marseille will be witnesses of the visible outcome of an invisible path: what everyone has made within themselves and with others. When the sails are lowered, you will not only be a sailor who lands, but a community that arrives: with questions still to be answered, hopes to look after, commitments to take home.
Because what these testimonies teach us is that peace is not a prize for those who win, but the fragile fruit of shared vulnerability; Not the absence of conflict, but the presence of justice, respect, mutual knowledge. Each young man brought to the ground has with him a compass: that of active hope – not at least – who chooses the meeting, which accepts the other, who knows that the sea is too wide to separate us, too tight to divide us.
And that the voice that rises towards the sky does not remain only prayer, but promise, action, new life.
Photo © Bel Espair
