Cardinal Secretary of State Pietro Parolin visited the Bambino Gesù Children’s Hospital on Tuesday, December 23. Parolin stated that Jesus is born whenever sick children and their families receive care and welcome. The Cardinal delivered greetings and best wishes from the Pope to the hospital staff, directors, and patients. The visit included a moment of reflection in the hospital chapel, followed by Christmas greetings to the community.
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Cardinal Pietro Parolin, Vatican Secretary of State, visited the Bambino Gesù Children’s Hospital on December 23, 2025.1
He was welcomed by hospital president Tiziano Onesti, Duchess Maria Grazia Salviati, and directors Antonio Perno, Massimiliano Raponi, and Andrea Onetti Muda.1
The Cardinal toured the Pulmonology and Cystic Fibrosis Unit, greeting patients and families with unit head Dr. Renato Cutrera.1
In the hospital chapel, Cardinal Parolin delivered Christmas greetings from Pope Leo XIV to staff, doctors, nurses, volunteers, patients, families, and board members.1
He called the hospital a "Christmas hospital" due to its name and mission, emphasizing Jesus' presence in welcoming the smallest ones.1
Parolin shared a parent's insight: half of healing comes from medical care, the other half from family closeness and affection.1
He quoted poet Giovanni Papini, noting Jesus is born in the heart when one brings joy or eases pain.1
At Bambino Gesù, Jesus is reborn through daily attention to sick children and families, blending excellence in care with a human dimension.1
Article 1:
Common themes: Christmas spirituality in healthcare, human element in pediatric medicine, Vatican support for children's hospital.
Suggested sections: ### Cardinal Parolin's Visit, ### Christmas Greetings, ### Spiritual Reflection on Care.
Outline: Start with visit details, then greetings, end with message for logical flow.
Christ is reborn through welcoming and caring for sick children
Merry Christmas! As we gather in this holy season, our hearts overflow with the joy of the Incarnation—the Word made flesh, the newborn King cradled in a manger. Yet today, I invite you to see Christmas anew: Christ is reborn through welcoming and caring for sick children. In the fragile bodies of suffering little ones, Jesus comes to us once more, vulnerable and in need, calling us to enfold him in our arms as Mary and Joseph did that first holy night. This is no mere sentiment; it is the Gospel's profound truth, echoed across centuries by our popes and saints. Let us open our eyes to this mystery.
Imagine the scene: parents bring their children to Jesus, but the disciples push them away. Jesus, indignant, declares, "Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs" (Mk 10:13-16). He embraces them, blesses them, revealing his tender love for the innocent and vulnerable. This is the same Jesus who heals the blind, the mute, the hemorrhaging woman, and raises the dead—fulfilling Isaiah's prophecy: "He took away our infirmities and bore our diseases" (Mt 8:17). His mission touches body, mind, and spirit, offering life to the full (Jn 10:10).
But the heart of this revelation pierces deeper in Matthew 25: "I was sick and you visited me... as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me" (Mt 25:36,40). Here, Christ identifies wholly with the sick child—the handicapped infant, the feverish toddler, the child battling cancer. Pope John Paul II proclaimed this repeatedly during his visits to hospitals: serving these "God's little ones" is serving Christ himself, mysteriously present in them. Jesus, beati gli afflitti (blessed are the afflicted), promises consolation (Mt 5:4), transforming suffering into a share in his redemptive Passion. At Christmas, the eternal Son becomes a helpless babe; today, he is reborn in every sick child we welcome.
Let these truths come alive through stories that mirror the manger's humility. Picture Pope John Paul II at Rome's Bambino Gesù Pediatric Hospital in 1982, his voice trembling with emotion as he addresses staff and young patients: "La vostra specifica competenza, la vostra esemplare dedizione... sono rivolti a Gesù, l’Uomo-Dio, misteriosamente presente in loro"—your expertise and dedication are directed to Jesus, mysteriously present in them. He returned again and again, blessing doctors, nurses, and parents, urging them to see in each child the friendly face of Christ. In 1999, on the hospital's 130th anniversary, he praised its missions in war-torn lands and poor regions, where Catholic care defends children's innocence amid violence and hunger.
Our newest shepherd, Pope Leo XIV, in his Apostolic Exhortation Dilexi te (2025), weaves this tapestry further. He recalls St. John of God founding hospitaller orders with his cry, "Do good, my brothers!", and St. Camillus de Lellis commanding "motherly affection" for the sick, serving them as a loving mother her only child. Consecrated women like the Daughters of Charity built hospitals with their hands, bringing tenderness as the first medicine. St. Basil the Great integrated care for the needy into monastic life: monks work diligently "for charity towards our neighbor", providing for weaker brothers and sisters. Even Pope Paul VI celebrated Mass at Bambino Gesù in 1968, hailing it as a "bella, complessa istituzione" dear to the Pope's heart.
These are not distant tales. Think of Edinburgh's St. Joseph's Hospital in 1982, where John Paul II lauded caregivers for compensating handicaps with radiant love—transparent, innocent, and yearning. Or Melbourne's Mercy Maternity Hospital in 1986, emphasizing reverence for life from conception to death, strengthening families. In every hospice, battlefield clinic, or jungle outpost, the Church touches the suffering flesh of Christ, proclaiming salvation through concrete acts.
Now, dear friends, how does this rebirth of Christ touch your world? In a society racing toward material well-being, parents distracted, children vulnerable to war, hunger, and neglect—we are called to be the welcoming manger. Catholic hospitals like Bambino Gesù embody this: research, care, and hope for the hopeless. The U.S. Bishops' Ethical and Religious Directives remind us: health care is Christian love animating compassion, seeing suffering as union with Christ's cross.
Consider the nurse wiping a fevered brow at midnight, the doctor innovating for a rare disease, the parent holding a disabled child's hand—these are Christmas moments. Your family, your parish, your community can mirror this. Have you visited a children's ward? Supported a pro-life maternity home? Prayed for afflicted families? In doing so, Christ is reborn—not abstractly, but in tender flesh. Pope John Paul II blessed all who create "a welcoming, peaceful family environment" around the sick, seeing them as images of the suffering Christ. This elevates every act: expertise becomes mission, fatigue yields to grace.
Do not leave this church unchanged. Here is your plan:
These steps make your charity a mission of faith, elevating humanity. God sustains you with peace and joy.
My brothers and sisters, Christmas reveals: welcoming and caring for sick children is how Christ is reborn today. From Jesus' embrace to papal blessings, from saints' orders to modern clinics, the Church has always knelt beside the vulnerable, proclaiming, "As you did it to one of the least... you did it to me." Let us live this, transforming suffering into salvation's dawn.
Go forth, then, as bearers of the manger's light! May the Lord bless you, the sick children among us, their families, and all caregivers. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Let us pray: O Jesus, Infant King, reborn in every suffering child, grant us eyes to see you, hands to serve you, hearts to love you. Through Mary, Health of the Sick, draw us into your merciful embrace. Amen.