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“May God bless you and give you what you need because what you want will get you in trouble.”
This was the worst aspect of being old: There was no one left to call when Matelda needed answers.
“As sacraments go, weddings are the worst when it comes to stress. I’ve officiated, I don’t know, about a hundred of them, and they are generally tense situations. Two families—one side wears tuxedos and holds a gas can, the other wears a frilly gown and holds a match.”
When you’re serious about love, you’ve got to be just as serious in your commitment to work at it. No running away. No moving out. No disappearing. It wouldn’t help anyway. You can’t outrun your pain because it can be as stubborn as love.”
“When you find your purpose in life, it changes you. You see things differently. More clearly. You love more and better. You solve problems and are able to help others solve theirs because you stand in strength. You live in the whole world, not in your small corner of it. You serve.”
like any other reasonable working man in Great Britain, he observed the fixed class system and had his opinions. You either served or were being served, not much in between.
“Gentleman, it may appear, in the situation that we’re in, that we are helpless. But I assure you, God is listening.” Antica leaned in to hear the message. Piccolo Mattiuzzi put his hands on his father’s shoulders. Savattini pulled a cigarette out of his case. He looked to the altar and sheepishly returned it to the case. He, too, listened to the priest.
Fracassi continued. “He will not forsake you. He will not abandon you. But you must pray. God knows your heart. Saint Bernard of Clairvaux was the wise doctor of the faith. He encouraged us to reflect on the past. Make peace with it. You cannot control the evil done to you. You cannot turn back and right the good left undone. You cannot make up for the time wasted. But you can earn your salvation. Open your heart to His love. All is forgiven. We find strength in our confession. And we need it, gentlemen. We need it.”
Matelda had lived a rich life that should not be lost or forgotten. Her life was the treasure—all she had learned and experienced—not the objects of beauty she had collected.
“It’s harder for me to breathe. I can’t walk. Sometimes I can hear my heartbeat in my ear, and I know that’s not good.
“When you see an old lady who’s on the wrong side of a good mood, now you know why. She has a past that you can’t understand because you didn’t live it. As she ages, her feet hurt, her back aches, her knees click, she cooks, she cleans, she worries, she waits, and then she gets sick and dies. Be kind, Anina. Someday you’ll be the old lady.”
“You would think so, after all they had been through,” Olimpio agreed. “But the first thing that leaves in success is the memory of what it felt like to be poor. We shed that insecurity like an old pair of shoes the moment there’s money in the bank. We slip into fine leather and forget how badly our feet used to hurt.”
want you to realize that this whole thing is just a grand adventure. A fine show. The trick is to play in it and look at it at the same time. . . . The more kinds of people you see, the more things you do, and the more things that happen to you, the richer you are. Even if they’re not pleasant things. That’s living .
Emos moved the bookmark so he would not forget the passage from Edna Ferber’s novel So Big. He had not been present for Speranza’s final breath and last words, but at least he had the comfort of knowing the words his friend had been reading when the moment came. It was then that Emos knelt before Speranza’s body and called on God in His heaven to welcome the good man home.
“Your mother was right. A little time is a big gift. All my life I worried about death. Not my own, but, you know, the kids, my parents. Friends. There’s no way to prepare for death unless you’re the one dying.”
There are many gifts a friend brings to a woman’s life. History. Empathy. Honesty. Lucky was the woman who kept a childhood friend because that friend remembered what you looked like, who you were, and your people. Lucky was the woman who had a friend from the age of ten, when girls were brave, gutsy, and full of questions and had the time and pep to seek the answers. That friend knew who you really were. That friend had seen your soul.
Who waits around for a compliment? Ask for it. Then take it. And when you do, you realize you knew the truth all along and you didn’t need anybody else’s opinion in the first place. No one has to tell you that you did a good job.”
“Listen to me. Love yourself. That’s the greatest adventure. When you love yourself, you want to find your purpose, something only you can do in the way only you can do it. Make things. Create. And if a man comes along—and believe me, he will—the relationship is already off to a good start because both of you love the same person. You. Lucky him.”
Her conscience felt buoyant in her body. For any evil she had done, she had asked for forgiveness. She had not wasted time. Women rarely did. They squeezed each moment out of the day serving others. But the good left undone? Had she been enough? Done enough? No answer came, but it wasn’t her problem anymore. Her final desire was to leave this world in a state of grace. His will be done would be her redemption. The only thing left for her soul to do was the business of her salvation.
MANIFESTO DE LA FAMIGLIA Family. We are the barnyard, the circus and the stage, the forum, the playing field and the track. We are the structure, the architecture, and the stronghold. We are the comfort, the solace, and the dream. Our connection is our sustenance and hope. If the survival of the family is left to whim or chance, consider it neglect and the family dies at the root. We must put the family above work, play, and ambition. There must be a plan to grow and prosper. Life is less without family, it becomes a series of events, a bore, a litany of miseries and a slog toward loneliness.
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