“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” (Jn. 15:13)

The greatest act of love is letting go. Even if it means drowning in darkness, if by guiding a child towards the light you save them. This is illustrated continually through life’s great tragedies and sorrows. Why would a parent let go of a precious child, we ask. But there in Lk. 15 is a most telling example: a son bored with life and a father crying himself to sleep in concern for his prodigal son. Even there the story has a happy ending.

In another more recent story, a woman had believed for twenty-five years that her father had abandoned her, but she learned that he had died saving her life. In October 1917, an immigrant ship carrying hopeful passengers across the Atlantic from Italy to New York was caught in a storm. Among them was Antonio Russo, a twenty-eight-year-old carpenter, tightly holding his five-year-old daughter, Maria. His wife had died in childbirth, and this journey was a desperate attempt for him to find hope in an unknown land and give his daughter a life free from the poverty of his past.

However, everything changed at 2 a.m. Waves as high as houses crashed against the deck. Icy water flowed down to the lower decks where third-class passengers like Antonio and Maria slept, causing the ship to creak and tilt. Screams echoed in the darkness. Passengers pushed and scratched at each other as they surged towards the stairs. Antonio lifted Maria out of the water, his arms burning hot, trying to make his way through the chaos.

It was useless. The ship was already tilting sharply, and the floodwaters were rapidly increasing. Antonio saw something no one else had seen: a porthole shattered into pieces, just big enough for a child to squeeze through. And in the distance outside, a beam of light pierced the storm. A rescue ship. Terrified, he turned to his daughter, who was clinging to him, crying and calling for her mother. He didn't hesitate. He pushed Maria out the broken window. She fell into the black sea, screaming. And from beyond the glass, Antonio's voice followed her. "Swim, Maria! Swim towards the light! They're coming!" He knew she had a chance. He knew that wasn't the case for him and his fellow shipmates, however. Seven minutes later, the ship disappeared beneath the waves. Antonio Russo was one of the 117 third-class passengers who drowned that night, and his body was never found. Maria was pulled from the water forty-five minutes later. She was semi-conscious. She was freezing. But she was alive.

She was taken to a hospital ship and then placed in an orphanage in New York. She couldn't speak English and didn't know where she was. For the next twenty-five years, she carried a heavy heart, believing that her father had thrown her into the sea because he didn't want her. She didn't know that he had died trying to save her. At the age of 30, the truth finally reached her.

A researcher found her father's name among the deceased recorded in the shipwreck's records. For the first time, she understood. Those moments spent in the porthole were not an act of abandonment, but an act of love.

Maria lived a long life. She married and had four children,and then grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Later in life, she realized that thirty-one lives owed their fate to a seemingly impossible choice made by a man caught in a storm in the middle of the ocean.

In 1995, Maria, then quite old, spoke in an interview about a memory that shaped her life. "I thought my father was trying to kill me. I didn't realize he was saving me. My birthday, all the wonderful moments I've experienced, it's all because my father chose me over himself. He guided me through life. I hope I can make him proud."

Some acts of love resonate across generations. Others are stories that will never fade away.

Ah, there is a world of difference between abandonment and deliverance. Parents are often called upon to require hard things of their children. With breaking hearts they feel compelled to allow the maturing process to be carried out, praying for the best results. And oh! Those tiny portholes we must allow them to go through at times. We discipline in love. We sacrifice for the happier future of our little ones. For surely the day will come when, like it or not, we must release them to go live on their own. May God give us the wisdom to know when to hold on and when to let go! Future generations may look back on the hard times and realize that it was all for the best.

And last, we look to a faraway hill crowned with a cross and a crucified One who felt temporarily that His Father had forsaken Him. But it had to be. And because of it, we are His forever, for there is coming a resurrection and a realization that “He doeth all things well.”