The teacher of the "low"
(southern Italy low)
Our mother would have been just so the next morning - a carriage with agriculture - was accompanied by the near Fontana (where it was my sister was born) we biking.
We ended up at a dirt road that was all one square with the square of a small church from which the first starting to feed people, mostly elderly women
took off the handkerchief from his head, fanning herself and wiping the sweat from his face
Our mother said something to one of them - a kind farmer, from the lines are damaged. This had been staring at it and then ....
? ... but she's not the master of low ?..... Yes, it is she! Rina, Gina, come, you come back, is our teacher ...! .. and this is Nina? .... But it is a miss ... .. In a
anything we were surrounded by a group of girls - About forty - which were added many others, curious and noisy - to demand - to know - to remember - to share. ... After so long
When we recover our mother ....
few times I saw his face so bright, where tears and sweat like dew had melted and his eyes - amazing - we just made a gift of his great joy - as if to say: "... you just get your .... It is your ... "No
Mom - that wave of genuine warmth - and deep affection deserved - the fruit of thy God knows how many sacrifices - including people who you knew - poor - who sent their children to school between hope and suffering - that magical moment - Mamma - everything you belonged there and being present for us, that it was a gift - such as privileged witnesses - emotions - gratitude - proud, of course, too - on the great stage of life
The teacher finds it hard to leave and to take leave.
I knew - right away - I was living an added page of De Amicis - you heard it read - Mamma - when I was small enough to just listen. ... And still feel.
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