Nenè grew slowly and was rather pale, “like all children without their mothers,” gna’ Lidda would say sorrowfully. And little by little he began to toddle, down a short stretch of road, with his grandmother close behind who watched carefully, and as soon as she saw him beginning to tire she would bend down and with an outstretched arm swoop him onto her shoulders. And Nenè, so as not to weigh her down—he already understood quite a bit—would wrap his arms around her neck. As he grew, he was even able to walk the entire way to Buscardo. And it was only then that gna’ Lidda began to breathe a bit easier. Fewer responsibilities, fewer worries. They would get up early, close the door behind them, and with a loaf of bread along with two heads of lettuce in their basket they could get by till evening. At supper, gna’ Lidda made the little one, whose health was delicate, eat an egg or a bit of pastina so as not to let him go to bed on an empty stomach. She herself ate soup only on Sundays, though at times during the night she felt weak from hunger.

In a letter, her son informed her that he had married a woman from Patti who worked in La Mèrica as a presser. Gna’ Lidda wasn’t at all pleased by the news; now with a new family, he would no longer think about the old woman. Patience. At least the little one was still with her and once grown would be there to look after her. And sighing, she dictated to the cook: “… and bless your new wife as well. But do not forget about your mother, who is poor.”

What was done was done, and it was pointless to torment him with reproaches. Returning home, she called to Nenè with more than her usual tenderness. He was all that was left to her. Her daughter-in-law was dead; her son in La Mèrica, no hope of ever seeing him again….

Who knows if this time he might send her something now that she had practically asked him for it!? And she waited with more urgency than usual for the end of the month, it was the month of the dead, for his reply. Christmas was coming. In five Christmases he had never sent a thing. But this time, what if? He had married and said he was earning well. And while she washed, she repeated to Nenè, who was crouched on a large rock playing with stones from the river bed: “We’re going to have a big celebration at Christmas. Papa is going to send you something nice.”