Dear diary,

I am back asking for shelter, while I am again above the clouds lulled by the constant noise of the airplane: a buzz that punctually accompanies this travelling of mine around the world, this strange sort of accelerated pace, written in my destiny and to which I am, apparently, accustomed (but that, when I think of it still makes me feel dizzy).
Dear diary, I know that on the other side of my voice, there is always a friendly and patient person who is there to accept – through this white sheet – these fleeting thoughts, my secrets. It is, therefore, to a friend, that I am talking, in silence, while, in a few hours I will be once again in Miami, in Florida, where I will give three concerts, one after the other, all dedicated to Valentine’s Day.
Even the noblest celebrations, and even the most sacred ones, can slip into the commodification of feelings, into the logic of the market that tends to blur the true core values. Nevertheless, I believe firmly in the ethical usefulness of this beautiful custom.
In our inner calendar Valentine’s Day is the birthday of love. Valentine’s Day is a ritual, a thought that is embodied in gesture: it is up to anyone of us to give meaning to that gesture, and really celebrate love, the engine of the world, paying homage to the mysterious and wonderful gift of life (because, as someone said, you only live as long as you love).
While this celebration is getting closer, optimism finds new oxygen, because love is our inner nature, because there is no wasted love, and, indeed, it is a sweet and vital commitment, to cultivate this source that is within us, and that makes fluffy, under our feet, even the driest soil.
Love spreads, just like a sound vibration, and it is contagious: and this is what I think when, with little strength and, and holding off my weaknesses, I get on stage with the secret hope to do my part…With the desire – as anyone can do, in their field – to be at the service of love. Because we ourselves are the mirror of that divine and supernal love that created us.
Love is a plural noun, besides being in love with your partner, you can be in love with your dear ones, with your friends, with all the people living in this world. Not by chance, 2015 has been consecrated by the Holy Father as the Year of the family. Well even within the family love can exercise its extraordinary power.
Paying homage to this indication of Pope Francesco, dear diary, I would like to propose a reflection on a very particular kind of community, the one made up of the many children that fate has left without parents and who have found their own family, within an orphanage. Theirs is not an easy life, neither from the material, nor from the affective point of view. But, in the misfortune to remain apparently alone, I think with joy of those children who have had the fortune to meet along their journey many priests and nuns, as well as many lay people, who have taken care of them, thus constituting a new enlarged family.
On Valentine’s Day my thoughts go to the many nameless angels who have given these children a house and their love…My gratitude goes also to an angel, whose name I know, because I have had the great honor to know him and spend time with him: Father Rick Frechette, who has given in Haiti the warmth, the affection, the care and the guide of a father who has given back a family to hundreds of children.
With this thought inside my heart, dear diary, I am going to land and get back on stage once again, asking music to help me to wish to those who give me their attention: “Happy Valentine’s day!”
Andrea Bocelli

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