In this article, taken from the blog testimoni-ando.blogspot.com, Emilia Flocchini introduces us to Cecilia Sametti, a girl who died at just 16 after fighting a tumor with faith and then realizing that her place was at the foot of the cross, with Mary.
What does she have to do with me? Emilia asks herself, and we might ask ourselves the same… Let’s find out!

Who is she?

Cecilia Sametti was born in Rome on November 22, 1993, the second of the seven children of Paolo Sametti and his wife Lucia, who were among the first married couples to join the Casa di Maria Community, founded by Father Giacomo Martinelli and Nicoletta Reschini.

In 1995, after the first few years, or rather months, spent at the house in Moricone and at the Community’s central house in Rome, she moved with her parents to Fatima in Portugal because her parents had been called to establish the Casa di Maria to welcome pilgrims at the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Fatima.
In October 2002, a suspicious swelling appeared on her left buttock and showed no sign of going away. After being admitted to the emergency department in Leiria and then to the pediatric hospital in Coimbra, she received the diagnosis: she had rhabdomyosarcoma. After the first course of radiotherapy, she was considered cured.
On November 11, 2003, while at school, Cecilia experienced the signs of her first relapse, followed by four more. While undergoing treatment and being frequently hospitalized, the child was accompanied by the prayers of her entire Community.
In 2008, during a community prayer at the John Paul II Educational Center in Rome, she was heard asking for the grace to be able, like Our Lady, to stand at the foot of the cross.
In July 2009, since the clinical examinations showed no major problems, Cecilia left for the retreat of the boys from the Casa di Maria at the Notre Dame de la Garaison sanctuary, near Tarbes and therefore not far from Lourdes. However, new pains forced her to return to Fatima and be hospitalized again in Coimbra.
On August 26, addressing those around her, she began a long speech in which she thanked God, asked the nurses for forgiveness, and urged them not to weep too much over her passing, because she, together with Our Lady, would not abandon them. Then, in the hands of Father Giacomo, she professed her vows as a Daughter of the Cross. Two days later, on the morning of August 28, 2009, her heart stopped beating.

What does that have to do with me?

On March 23, 2022, as often happens to me, I was browsing the Libreria del Santo website to see whether there were any new publications that might interest me. I almost immediately saw the title Cecilia's Heaven and looked for more information: from the preview on the publisher's website, I learned that she was a member of the Casa di Maria Community.
That girl had seemed beautiful to me, but like a greenhouse flower. After all, she had grown up protected by her Community and had not attended external schools after fifth grade, so perhaps she might not have seemed like such an obvious example to present.
However, I soon silenced my “inner promoter of justice” by reflecting on the fact that Cecilia also had her own passions and interests: for example, she was very fond of fantasy and adventure novels, in addition to the lives of the saints, and films such as those in The Lord of the Rings saga. When she was feeling better, she would also take part in quiet games with her siblings or the other children at the House; she was certainly never idle.
As for the ways in which I feel she is similar to me, the main one is her interest in holy events, to the point of feeling them as part of her own life. Cecilia was obviously very familiar with the events involving the shepherd children of Fatima, whom I might call her neighbors, but her pilgrimage to Balasar was also recalled: in recounting what she had seen, her friend Massimiliano said, she appeared as if she had personally known Blessed Alexandrina Maria Da Costa, who had lived there and sealed the offering of her own life and physical suffering.

Her Gospel

From what I understood, Cecilia's life seemed to me the fruit of inner work that led her to become, from a distracted and somewhat absent-minded child, a thoughtful adolescent who loved silence and obeyed the older members of Casa di Maria, as well as its founders. In her I saw a great need for communion and genuine friendships, such as the one she had with Maddalena, her closest friend. Not being able to attend the Educational Center felt like a stab in the heart to her - as she described it in one of her last phone calls with Nicoletta - so she felt enormous joy on the rare occasions when she could stop by.

She also had a catalytic effect on the younger children: she taught them to pray, to sing, and never to sit around doing nothing; when necessary, she even admonished them.
She said that she received strength and light from prayer, which she in turn passed on to others, often astonishing them; the doctors in Coimbra, for example, considered her a little fighter. The same happened during her final two days of life, especially in that speech now regarded as her spiritual testament.
Shortly beforehand, during the retreat at Notre Dame de la Garaison in July 2009, she had composed a prayer in which she thanked Our Lady because, through her illness, she had helped her understand her vocation, the value and meaning of life, and how important her friendship with Jesus was. She concluded by writing:
“Mother, take away all the dirt that displeases you; I want to abandon myself into your hands. Lead me wherever you want. I no longer want to disobey you because this causes you pain. I want to be with you; the most beautiful thing I have experienced is feeling so loved by you!! Amen.”
The Casa di Maria Community continues to remember her in the years since her death and to feel her close, just as she had promised in her final farewell.

Cecilia's life has something to tell us insofar as it teaches us that even in suffering there is light, that even in pain there is meaning, if we strive to live united with Jesus and Mary beneath the cross.