A True Story That Happened in Italy in 2020

I mentioned that yesterday my friend and I exchange stories about our trips abroad. The one that flowed into my memory I’d not thought of in years. It happened near Venice. I was so glad to tell it and in doing so, re-lived it a bit.

In the early 80s my husband and I took our first trip abroad. We went with a tour group and visited quite a few countries, thinking that if we never were able to return we’d have memories of Europe for a life time.

We’d toured Venice, had a boat ride on the canal, crossed the bridge of sighs and been in the museum on our free day in Venice. Lovely day. Couldn’t believe we were there.

We met our group at dusk and returned to the modest hotel provided by the tour in a small town outside of Venice. We were on our own for dinner that night, and walked outside finding ourselves in a blue collar press on the sidewalk, people returning home with lunchboxes, etc. We entered a small restaurant with pictures of pizza and Italian dishes we recognized in the window. Kermit asked of the hostess if anyone spoke English and she replied she did and one waitress did. As we were guided to a back of the room half circular seat and its table, we noted that when seated we’d be facing the entire narrow restaurant When seated, we saw that it looked as like we were the only non-residential people in the restaurant. And, that people were taking note of us.

We ordered from our English speaking waitress. Siting there looking forward we watched a long set of tables being joined for we imagined a party of many people. There was no table between ours and theirs but plenty of room so we didn’t feel crowded when all the guests arrived, not at all.

It became obvious that it was a birthday party for a darling girl, we’d guessed her to be 12 or thirteen. She had long pigtails and flowers had been placed in each plait and she wore a flower wreath on her head. We were facing her, as she sat on the opposite side of the long table from us. Our pasta arrived and we watched this beautiful child on her day, obviously feeling beautiful and loved. You know the way very young girls who are about to blossom into womanhood wear the knowledge that this way of feeling is what is ahead when she will be a woman, and we can see she loves the idea of being and feeling lovely and admired. That’s what I saw and whispered to Kermit and he agreed.

Papa was in charge, clearly. He ordered the wine and food. During the meal any child who had problem consulted Papa. He instigated conversation, but of course we didn’t know what he said. They were at the end of their meal, gifts had been opened but no cake had emerged. Kermit and I were simply overwhelmed with the joy and love we had witnessed when Kermit commented that he’d really like to give the birthday girl a gift but he didn’t want to insult the family in any way. We seen them look at us and members of the party facing us had nodded in a friendly way to me, to Kermit.

Then Kermit said as a child he’d really valued gifts of coins and bills from other countries, kept them for years. But how to offer that? Then he said, I’ll need to get approval from Papa. He called the attention of the waitress and explained his idea to her and she agreed to speak to the Papa. We watched her speaking to him as Champagne was served to the birthday party guests. Papa looked at us, and nodded that it would be ok. I’m sure by then Kermit had upped the money gift quite a bit over time, I never knew how much he offered. Papa came to the table with gifts of champagne for each of us. The waitress translated that Kermit wanted to be sure that Papa would approve the gift. Mama came. Some of the children of elementary school ages came and slid in the curved seat beside us.

The little girl nearest me pushed up beside my body and repeatedly put her hands up to touch and pat my face. Kermit and Papa and Mama and I were trying to talk. I said, “Tre bambinos” to Mama and finally she understood what I meant to say, and repeated in very loud voice pointing to us…as she held up three fingers…that we had three children… A toast was offered to us and our children, then we all took sips from our glasses. Papa called the birthday girl to our table. Kermit gave her the gift and the waitress translated. Smiles, Kisses. Toasts again.

Then the birthday cake was delivered to the other table and served but the first serving after the birthday girl’s was to us. Honestly I thought that this must be the way royalty was treated and perhaps too that royalty perhaps felt overly appreciated but very loved in such moments.

As I’d said starting the story, we were at the back at the restaurant and so had been on display throughout the meal and some of the other customers had raised their wine glasses to us and to the family during the earlier interactions. We finished our cake and rose to leave. As we walked to the door, I kid you not, all the seated customers applauded us.

Then the younger children of the birthday girl’s family, ran behind us and followed us to the hotel.

When in the coming years we spoke of that night to each other, we still felt the love bestirred that night.

After telling this to Terri yesterday it occurred to me that somewhere there is a fully grown woman perhaps still in that modest community who could be telling her friend the same story about her birthday when she was a child.

Last updated August 23, 2020