Every building in Montevideo was created with great care. Offices rivaled cathedrals in their architecture. The houses were not the hastily built shacks I was used to; they were painted in bright teals and pinks, lined up tightly next to each other. I was amazed. Montevideo bustled unlike any city I had ever seen. The sounds of people speaking Spanish could be heard as we traversed the streets, making me thankful for the nomadic gauchos that had periodically traveled through my village from Argentina. My stomach gurgled violently as the scent of wood-fired meats floated through the air, mixed with the fresh saltiness of the sea.

José drove our little cart down toward the docks. Pulling to a halt in front of a pink house, he looked up. “This must be it.” We went up to the door, but it opened before we knocked. A miniature Anzani stood in front of us. “You’re the Garibaldis!” the boy exclaimed.

“Indeed, we are, and who might you be?” José asked.

“Tomaso Anzani.” The little boy stared up at us. “You look dirty. Did you have a rough journey? Did you fight bandits?”

“Tomaso, stop asking so many questions and let our guests in!” Anzani came up to the doorway with another small child in his arms. He tousled his son’s hair before sending him away.

“That would be my eldest. This little one is Antony, and around here somewhere is Cesare.” He waved a hand in the air. “He likes to find a cubby to curl up in with a book. We’ll find him again when he’s hungry. Speaking of hunger, you must be famished. Come with me.”

He led us through their parlor, filled with overstuffed furniture and children’s toys, to the kitchen. We sat down at a large wooden table just before Anzani started pulling out every bit of food from their cupboards. “I am sorry it’s not much, Luisa has yet to get back from the market.” Soon the table was covered with various fruits, cheeses, and sweetmeats. It was more food than I had seen in months.

“I’ve taken the liberty of securing a new home for you. It’s down the street. I know the owner. He just needs to meet you and have you sign some agreements. It won’t be much, a bit smaller than this.”

I gasped. “That would be lovely. Thank you. Thank you so much.” Tears of gratitude stung my eyes. I was not used to such kindness. As I sat at the table listening to José and Anzani talk as if they were old friends, the realization that this was the right decision spread through me. Here, we had a future. We could dare to have the life we had only dreamed about in the rugged wilderness of Brazil.

“Tell me about the Italians,” José said, not hiding the smile that grew on his face.