How wonderful it is to live... if you have somewhere to live.

This Christmas Eve marks 80 years since the events depicted in Frank Capra's film «It's a Wonderful Life.» Eighty years later, Mr. Potter continues to profit from families' need for housing. Will an angel appear today to enlighten a new George Bailey?

Just in case, I'm going to try to earn myself a pair of wings by stirring consciences with my column today, because I can't get the data from the latest FOESSA report out of my head, which pointed out that the rising cost of housing in Spain is depriving one in four households of a decent life. And we're not just talking about the impossibility of buying a home, but also the fact that 45% of the population living in rented accommodation is at risk of poverty and social exclusion, the highest figure in the EU. «Renting has become a poverty trap,» says the foundation promoted by Cáritas Española. But of everything in the press release, I am left with a quote from Raúl Flores, the report's coordinator, which is nothing more than the moral of the movie starring James Stewart: «It's not people who fail, it's the system that fails.». 

Because it's all very well to put pressure on politicians, to demand serious action to prevent basic goods from becoming luxury items, but the system is dominated by large investment funds, such as the one represented by the miser Potter, who only understand profitability. In the end, it will be up to families, civil society, and institutions to come together to carry out initiatives that stand up to speculators. But society is often asleep and needs heroes, like the protagonist of the black-and-white Christmas classic, to wake it up, to make it see that ordinary people, if they unite, can do great things without waiting for the state to pull their chestnuts out of the fire because they might get burned.

The people we need

I was fortunate enough to meet and interview, shortly before his death (he was blessed with a long life of over 100 years), a real-life George Bailey, who was my parish priest, Father Francisco Acevedo Ponce de León. Sent in the 1950s to the now prosperous (then extremely poor) neighborhood of Huelin, in Malaga, he encountered the serious problem of young families living in shacks because workers« wages were not enough to afford decent housing. One day, he took one of his parishioners, Claudio Gallardo, a deeply religious administrator, to see the living conditions of these couples with young children. Gallardo was so impressed by what he saw that he declared, »We must put an end to this river of sadness." They set to work, and this duo was responsible for the construction of no less than 6,000 cooperative housing units between the late 1960s and early 1970s. These homes were, of course, occupied first by the families living in the shantytowns, which were demolished shortly thereafter, but they were also joined by many other families who would not have been able to purchase property on the real estate market. That river of sadness was absorbed by an ocean of solidarity and ingenuity.  

How many Acevedo-Gallardos are there among us, lying dormant, not yet daring to put their talents to work? Enterprising people, capable of being moved by the suffering of others, willing to endure attacks from those who reject the idea, knowledgeable in the field, economists, builders, architects...

And what about religious congregations? How much could they contribute in this area? Surely there are those who have real estate assets that are currently unused and could be the seed of a new mission to serve the most needy families. When people talk about a vocational crisis in consecrated life, I always remember that its periods of splendor are closely linked to the ability of its founders to detect the most bleeding wounds of humanity. It was this spirit of going out to heal those wounds that made young people, who are naturally intrepid, join them because it is in their nature to follow noble causes, as we saw in Valencia with the DANA, or as George Bailey did when he gave up going to college or enjoying his honeymoon so as not to let down so many families who depended on his loan company. At one time, religious orders provided the education and healthcare that the state did not provide. Today, although these needs are still very important, they are perhaps not as urgent because the state covers them extensively. Could God be speaking to us in some way?

Don't listen to me. I'm sure what I just said is nonsense, I'm sure I don't know anything about economics or entrepreneurship or religious life; but let me dream, like in Capra's story. Let me dream of a better world like the one my parish priest and his good friend Gallardo once dreamed of and managed to make a reality. Let me dream of a world in which brave men and women promote networks of solidarity so that many families can say, «It's a wonderful life!» and find a place to live it. Because it's not people who fail, it's the system. Have you heard a little bell ring?