AMERICA/PERU - The "Invisible" ones of the "Cottolengo" of Arequipa, loved like our own children

by Domitia Caramazza

Arequipa (Fides News Agency) – The “Cottolengo” of Arequipa – Hogarcito de Niños Especiales San Jose Benito Cottolengo – welcomes the “invisible” ones from all over Peru: children, young people, and women with “special needs,” severe physical and mental disabilities, living in abandonment and poverty.
What immediately draws attention is a colorful poster with a message for the “Peruvian Pope”: “We love you very much, Pope Leo XIV. Greetings from the girls of the hogar Benito de Cottolengo…”

Founded on August 1, 2002, thanks to the initiative of the Sisters of Saint Joseph Benito Cottolengo, the Home is a living and contemporary expression of the original charism of the Italian saint from Turin, who in the 19th century gave rise to the Little House of Divine Providence in Italy.

In 2007, the project found a permanent home in the Tiabaya district of Arequipa, consolidating its presence in the region thanks to the succession and ongoing mission of the Servants of the Lord and the Virgin of Matarà, along with lay collaborators who have inherited the original charism.

Today, the Cottolengo of Arequipa continues to be a family for lives "in conditions of grave fragility and abandonment, often due to multiple disabilities or the inability of families to care for them," explains Sister María Confianza de los Débiles.

It's hard to recognize her in her religious habit… I had met her in 2022 as Daniela Vargas, the lay administrator of the House. At that time, she declared herself an atheist; today she wears the habit of consecrated life. "I came to know God at the Catholic University of San Pablo, which put me in contact with the Cottolengo, where I was captivated by the experience of Providence." There, in contact with the most vulnerable, her vocation matured: “It was there that I strongly felt this call from the Lord.” The concrete experience of charity and Providence played a decisive role: even seeing material needs, she acknowledges that “nothing was ever lacking,” because “at the right moment, Providence provided exactly what was needed.” Thus she perceived the mercy of God that calls her to consecration. Today she is in religious formation, grateful for having found in these “children,” welcomed with a mother’s heart, a living witness: “They are the Gospel.”

Giovanna, Gilda, Jessica, Franquito: these are the first people she introduces me to in the “Franciscos” section, dedicated to the rehabilitation of the most vulnerable. She greets them with a caress, a smile, and a prayer. She jokes with them. The care is personalized and dignified, because it is not aimed at “the patient in bed number such-and-such,” but at children and adults with their own stories. I hear about Giovanna, taken in as a very young child from a situation of severe abandonment and family hardship: her mother, also disabled, "couldn't keep her or care for her properly," and the girl lived in dehumanizing conditions: "she walked on all fours... she ate like a dog." Through patient, daily work, the community has accompanied Giovanna on a path of rebirth and human growth: "little by little, she was taught to walk upright, to eat with cutlery, to sit at the table, to smile."
To smile... Giovanna is a witness to a love that becomes care: "she's like a daughter," adds Sister Confianza.

Then she stops beside Franquito, the only boy in this house where all the others are girls. He seems to be lying in bed as if embracing a cross, but with a surprisingly lively gaze that conveys a desire to live: "many times we think: 'the time has come'... but he always surprises us."

Economic and health difficulties abound, as many families have abandoned these children, and others cannot afford the complex care they require. The House strives to guarantee comprehensive care, avoiding hospitalization whenever possible, and is planning an expansion to accommodate even more serious cases. In many cases, the State itself entrusts them to the Cottolengo.

The mission is to accompany them throughout their lives, offering not only assistance but also the opportunity to recognize their own personal dignity: "We welcome them... until their last day, trying to guarantee the best possible quality of life."

Restoring "Stolen Childhood"

The House encompasses not only the rehabilitation center but also the girls' residences. These are more numerous today than in 2022 and remain remarkably welcoming. The rooms are filled with color and decorated like rooms in a fairytale castle, in an attempt to give many of them back the childhood that was stolen from them: "abused and impregnated by their own fathers, as often happens in homes in rural areas." This is Sister Confianza's denunciation. Among the causes, she points to: "a patriarchal culture, a weak sense of belonging, lack of education, poverty, alcoholism, and the complicit silence of the abusers' wives, the victims' mothers." "It's heartbreaking. I meet again and embrace, after years, one of the victims who has managed to rebuild her life.

"Their dignity is mine."

We are joined by the person who has taken up the baton from Daniela Vargas: Gabriela Fernández Medina Paz, the current lay administrator of the Home, who explains that she began working there in 2023 and chose to stay after getting to know the girls, their stories and their needs: "I accepted the challenge."
Gabriela, thirty-six years old, is in charge of the organization and daily support of the 43"niñas" in the home. She emphasizes the difficulties of the context, where these people are often considered "useless," people who "don't produce"... who "serve no purpose."

Children who can even be found in the garbage, like "Juan Pablito, microcephalic, blind, and mute," recalls Sister Confianza, "found in the garbage as a newborn." At the hospital, they said he wouldn't survive more than two weeks. So, thinking of a dignified place to accompany him in his final days, they brought him to the Cottolengo. We cared for him, and he lived for three years. A miracle named John Paul, like the saintly Pope. Little Juan Pablo was a source of conversion for those who knew him.”

Gabriela bravely denounces the lack of institutional support, especially when the girls reach adulthood: “People think, ‘They’re grown now, let them figure out what to do with their lives,’ but anything could happen to them outside… this is their home.”

It has also become a home for Estela, who arrived in a state of severe malnutrition and for whom it seemed impossible that she would ever walk: “She came from Huánuco, she was very thin, they told us she would never stand up. When she arrived, she had only one expression on her face…” Today, Estela has changed: she smiles, plays, and can even walk with assistance. For Gabriela, this is a concrete sign of the love she has received.

“Beyond disability,” she continues, “every person has full human dignity and must be recognized as such. They are still people made in the image and likeness of God… they have the same dignity as I do.”

A school that teaches how to live

Another expression of the recognition of their dignity is the school within the Home. In addition to care and a welcoming environment, great importance is placed on education. The nuns and staff of the large “Cottolengo Family” help each girl and young woman in the integral development of her person through a special educational path.

The poster with the message of love for the Pope, displayed in the courtyard where I see them dancing during recess, was made by the students themselves. I read a sentence written in smaller letters: “We may be different, but in this class we grow together.”
Returning with them to the classroom, it is striking how the educational environment has produced results not only academically, but also personally. The teacher speaks of concrete objectives: “a special education, dedicated to them, with goals to achieve.” These words reveal a pedagogical vision focused on individual potential rather than limitations. Comparison with other educational realities makes the specificity of the context even more evident: "They are very different from how society behaves in public institutions," she observes, emphasizing a level of care, discipline, and support that is rarely achieved in elsewhere. The sense of shared responsibility and the relational dimension are striking: "They are very collaborative," the teacher adds, "they help each other and share everything." In this dynamic of mutual support, the teacher recognizes a profound educational value that transforms the classroom into a community. The overall impression is filled with enthusiasm: "I am happy and excited to be with them." And it is precisely bringing the Gospel to life among the desks that makes this school a school of life.

The gifts and the final greeting to the "Peruvian Pope"

Life that becomes a creative gift in the classrooms and in the craft workshop. Ingrid, Elena, Raquel, Ada, Katty Melisa, the girls from the "productive lab," have made a white scarf and a hand-painted wooden cell phone holder as gifts for Pope Leo. Miss Sandra, Carmen, Ana, Rosmery, Gabriela, and Raquel, for their part, have made a card with an image of the Immaculate Conception for him, "with much love," and invite him to Arequipa. The poster designed by Rosa, Silvana, Inés, Diana, Milagros, and Jesyca, which now greets those passing through the courtyard of the House, is also a gift for the "Peruvian Pope," for whom they all have a final, heartfelt message: "See you in Chiclayo!" (Fides News Agency, 29/4/2026)

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