Some fires never go out. They simply change shape until they become a part of you.
These words are spoken by a prison re-entry coach named Alex early on in Rewritten: The Story of Maria Goretti. Set within a modern maximum-security men’s prison, the short film is a contemplative testament to Maria Goretti’s legacy.
One of the youngest canonized saints, Maria Goretti was born in 1890 in Ancona, Italy, to poor farmers. When she was eleven, her nineteen-year-old neighbor, Alessandro Serenelli, attempted to rape her. She rejected his advances and he stabbed her fourteen times. Before dying the next day, Maria did the unthinkable: she forgave Alessandro. After serving nearly three decades in prison for his crime, Alessandro repented and received forgiveness from Maria’s mother. He spent the remainder of his life working as a gardener at a Franciscan monastery.
Pope Pius XII canonized Maria Goretti in 1950—and her murderer attended the ceremony.
The narrative portion of Rewritten runs about twelve minutes. It is Alex’s first day on the job. He is leading a group of incarcerated men in a discussion about scars and resentment. The men are irreverent and irritated, obviously considering Alex’s points about the shackles of pain and guilt trite or otherwise unhelpful. Then he tells a story about a family who owned a flower shop and were deeply committed to helping those in need—the florist’s daughter serves as Maria Goretti’s counterpart, suffering an identical fate.
The story is brief but powerful, emotionally poignant and respectful of this new Maria’s tragedy and St. Maria Goretti herself. But the film doesn’t linger there. After a meaningful plot reveal, it zeroes in on the interiority of her murderer, who is in the room with us. In light of this revelation, perpetrators, victims, sinners, and saints stand on equal ground, because mercy infuses justice. Despite our discomfort with this evening of scales, grace still does its work. It vitalizes the bleak room of the prison, a place one character likens to Hell.
Forgiveness is a productive force. The film acknowledges it as the path to achieving true peace, that offering we extend to one another at every Mass and which we so desperately seek to experience ourselves. Forgiveness of both self and other transforms pain, acknowledges the reality of sin, and is key to cultivating Christ-like humility. “Letting go is for us,” the aforementioned character observes. Forgiveness allows us to reclaim our right to the joy that St. John Paul II says we are “made for.” It also allows us to reclaim our power, but not in the way the world values. In the messy, uncomfortable, difficult work of forgiveness, we reclaim our power to be true image-bearers of Christ. The prison setting works as a microcosm for examining how forgiveness impacts not only personal freedom and peace but community wellbeing. It chokes the cycles of violence that threaten to imprint on families, communities, and any other place where humans gather. We are always in need of this protective veil of grace—this forgiveness is essential to living in genuine freedom internally and within every relationship.
We worship a God who is first and foremost merciful: “Look into My Heart and see there the love and mercy which I have for humankind, and especially for sinners,” Jesus tells St. Faustina. “Look, and enter into My Passion.” God’s love saturates even the most hollow spaces of our souls, where we fear there may be nothing for Him to touch. Offering ourselves and one another the same merciful love He continues to give us so freely, especially in those hollow depths, is a powerful way to honor Him. It is one way to enter into His Passion.
Maria forgave as Jesus taught in the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant. “From the heart,” without condition, she spoke these words before her death:
Yes, for the love of Jesus I forgive him . . . and I want him to be with me in Paradise.
This kind of forgiveness reverberates inexhaustibly, incalculable degrees beyond those involved in the initial crime, deceit, abuse, or transgression. It gives us the power to reshape the “fires that never go out,” sparked by sin of our own or others, into something creative rather than destructive. Where it seems that vengeance can spread and influence indefinitely, love and mercy have the truly infinite reach, as they are the matter of God’s light. Rewritten is proof of the reverberation of Maria’s own radical act of forgiveness—here we are as audience members to her story, over a century after she offered her unimaginable suffering for the good of he who caused it. We are moved by and benefitting from one child’s yes to God.

The film is contemplative and restrained, earnest and transparent in this vision of forgiveness. Its lack of pretension welcomes viewers to take a seat and participate in this communal meditation on mercy, considering where we might need Maria’s Christ-like resolve in our own lives. One character asks what we “get” if we fail to receive revenge or justice in the face of our pain. The film’s answer? “We get to decide what’s next.” We have the ability to write the story of our own theosis from here on out, with our next decision grounded in the assurance of God’s love. Not a moment goes by where we are abandoned on this journey. We are not bound by the missteps we’ve taken, and the shackles of our guilt and suffering are illusions. As Pope Francis assures us, God never tires of forgiving us—”It’s we who get tired of asking for forgiveness.”
This brief film is a prayer of gratitude to a God who never allows violence, guilt, or pain to have the final word. Rewritten sees God telling Maria’s murderer, “her gift [of forgiveness] is now your gift.” Thanks to filmmakers Billy Barnes and Ira Dewitt, it is our gift, too.
Christ’s mercy restores our dignity individually and as a whole—let us all find ways to participate in that restoration as we approach Lent later this month.
Rewritten: The Story of Maria Goretti is the first installment in the Rewritten short-film anthology, a new Catholic media project that reimagines the lives of saints as modern narratives, highlighting martyrdom, conversion, and holiness in settings familiar to contemporary viewers. The film is now streaming on the SAINT Catholic Lifestyle app following a recent screening at the Vatican and a strong response from online audiences. Watch Rewritten on YouTube here.

Lead Editor Franci Revel Eckensberger holds a Master of Fine Arts in Poetry from Cornell University. With years of experience as a copyeditor for academics, fellow writers, and various small businesses, she takes pride in maintaining clarity, consistency, and beauty in each client’s voice.
Franci finds grace and insight in the Catholic Church’s rich relationship to language and invites that relationship to influence both her literary and editorial work. Saint Cecilia and Catherine of Siena continue to play a vital role in her journey to the faith as an artist. She lives in coastal Delaware with her husband and daughter.
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