Pope Francis sends letter of condolence to families of Santa Catarina daycare attack victims

Five people killed including three children under two years old, one teacher, and one educational assistant in a daycare attack; one child injured and survived.
death is not the final word, but the merciful love of God
From the pope's letter, offering spiritual consolation to families of the five victims.

Em uma manhã de maio, a violência irrompeu em um lugar construído para proteger os mais vulneráveis — uma creche em Saudades, Santa Catarina, onde cinco pessoas, entre elas três crianças com menos de dois anos, perderam a vida. Três meses depois, o Papa Francisco, ao tomar conhecimento do ocorrido, escolheu responder não com um comunicado institucional, mas com uma carta pessoal de condolências às famílias enlutadas. Nesse gesto, o pontífice reconheceu que mesmo as dores mais distantes e silenciosas merecem ser vistas — e que a fé, em sua expressão mais humana, é também uma forma de presença.

  • Em 4 de maio, um jovem de 18 anos invadiu a creche Pró-Infância Aquarela em Saudades e atacou crianças e funcionárias com um facão, deixando cinco mortos e um bebê de um ano e oito meses gravemente ferido.
  • A brutalidade do ataque — direcionado a crianças com menos de dois anos — gerou comoção nacional e deixou uma comunidade de menos de dez mil habitantes paralisada pelo luto e pela incredulidade.
  • Três meses após a tragédia, o Papa Francisco tomou conhecimento do massacre e decidiu escrever cartas pessoais a cada família vitimada, um gesto que o bispo Dom Odelir José Magri descreveu como expressão de sensibilidade e ternura.
  • Na carta, Francisco oferece consolo espiritual ancorado na fé católica na ressurreição, lembrando às famílias que a morte não é a última palavra e que o amor misericordioso de Deus abre caminho à comunhão eterna.
  • No dia 29 de agosto, durante uma missa na Paróquia Sagrada Família em Saudades, o bispo entregará pessoalmente as cartas às famílias, transformando o gesto papal em um momento concreto de proximidade e reconhecimento.

Na manhã de 4 de maio, um jovem de 18 anos entrou na creche municipal Pró-Infância Aquarela, em Saudades, cidade de menos de dez mil habitantes no interior de Santa Catarina, e atacou crianças e funcionárias com um facão. Cinco pessoas morreram: três crianças com menos de dois anos, uma professora e uma auxiliar de educação. Um menino chamado Henrique Hubler, de um ano e oito meses, sobreviveu após cirurgia.

Três meses depois, o Papa Francisco soube do que havia acontecido naquela cidade pequena. Movido pelo ocorrido, o pontífice decidiu escrever cartas pessoais às famílias das vítimas — não uma nota oficial, mas uma mensagem dirigida a cada família. Dom Odelir José Magri, bispo de Chapecó, recebeu as cartas e descreveu o gesto como uma demonstração da sensibilidade e da ternura do papa diante do sofrimento alheio.

No texto, Francisco reconhece diretamente a dor das famílias e oferece uma perspectiva espiritual: a de que Jesus revelou à humanidade que a morte não é a palavra final, e que o amor misericordioso de Deus transforma o sofrimento e abre caminho à comunhão eterna. O papa estendeu sua bênção apostólica a todos os próximos das vítimas e pediu que rezassem por ele, encerrando a carta com a invocação de Nossa Senhora Aparecida.

No domingo, 29 de agosto, Dom Odelir entregará as cartas durante uma missa na Paróquia Sagrada Família, em Saudades. Para uma cidade pequena marcada por uma tragédia que tirou vidas inocentes, a atenção do líder da Igreja Católica representa um reconhecimento de que sua dor foi vista — e de que seus mortos não foram esquecidos.

On a May morning in Saudades, a small city of fewer than ten thousand people in the southern Brazilian state of Santa Catarina, an eighteen-year-old entered a municipal daycare center and attacked the people inside with a machete. When it was over, five were dead: three children, each under two years old, a teacher, and an educational assistant. One more child, a boy named Henrique Hubler who was one year and eight months old, survived after surgery. The daycare, called Pró-Infância Aquarela, sat 446 kilometers from the state capital. The attack happened on May 4th.

Three months later, Pope Francis learned what had happened in that small city. The pontiff, who leads the Roman Catholic Church from Rome, decided to write a letter to the families of those who had been killed. The letter was not a formal statement or a generic message of sympathy. It was personal, addressed to each family, and it would be delivered by hand.

Dom Odelir José Magri, the bishop of Chapecó, received word that the pope had written the letter. He described learning of it as a moment of joy. To him, the gesture represented something deeper than protocol—it was an expression of the pope's sensitivity, tenderness, and compassion toward people who were grieving. The bishop would be the one to carry the letter to each family.

In his message, Francis acknowledged the painful losses directly. He wanted the families to know that he understood their suffering. But he also offered something beyond sympathy: a spiritual perspective rooted in Catholic faith. He wrote that Jesus had shown humanity that death is not the final word. Instead, he explained, the merciful love of God transforms suffering and opens the way to eternal communion. He reminded them that faith in resurrection is meant to make people bearers of hope, not despair.

The pope also included a blessing—what the Church calls an apostolic blessing—extended not only to the families of the victims but to all those close to them. He asked that they remember him in their prayers. The letter was signed with the authority of the head of the Catholic Church, invoking the intercession of Nossa Senhora Aparecida, a figure central to Brazilian Catholic devotion.

On Sunday, August 29th, Dom Odelir would stand before the community at the Sagrada Família Parish Church in Saudades and deliver these letters. The mass would mark what the Brazilian bishops' conference called a moment of closeness—the pope reaching across the distance from Rome to a grieving town, acknowledging their loss not as a distant tragedy but as something that had moved him to write. For a city of fewer than ten thousand people, the attention of the pontiff was itself a form of recognition that their pain mattered, that their dead were not forgotten.

A gesture of sensitivity, tenderness, and compassion from the pontiff toward the bereaved families
— Bishop Dom Odelir José Magri, describing the pope's letter
Jesus demonstrated that death is not the last word, but the merciful love of the Father transforms us and brings us to eternal communion with Him
— Pope Francis, in his letter to the families
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Inventor

Why did the pope write this letter at all? He receives news of tragedies constantly.

Model

Because this one reached him in a way that demanded a response. The bishop says he learned of the massacre and felt compelled to act—not with a statement, but with a personal letter to each family.

Inventor

What makes a papal letter different from any other condolence?

Model

It carries the weight of spiritual authority and presence. For Catholics, especially in Brazil, it's not just sympathy. It's the head of their faith saying: your dead matter, your suffering is seen, and there is meaning in it.

Inventor

The letter mentions resurrection and hope. Isn't that a risk—telling grieving people to have hope?

Model

The pope isn't dismissing their pain. He's offering a framework for it. He's saying death isn't the end, and that faith is meant to sustain people through unbearable loss, not erase it.

Inventor

Why deliver it in person through the bishop, rather than just publish it?

Model

Because it's not a public statement. It's meant for the families. The bishop delivering it at mass in their church, in their community, makes it intimate. It says the Church is present with them, not distant.

Inventor

A town of fewer than ten thousand people—does papal attention change anything for them?

Model

Not materially. But it acknowledges that their tragedy isn't invisible or forgotten. For a small city, it's a form of dignity.

Contact Us FAQ