Last night my Mom was making small maccheroni and orecchiette pasta for the Sunday lunch. Once again, I was close to the wooden countertop, enchanted, admiringing her precise simple gestures as I did when I was a child. I was glad my thought took strength from the fact that, even though years have passed since those precious moments of my childhood, her gestures to make pasta still had a good rhythm. Call it determination. Now, her delicate and fragile hands tell more about a life of dedication to her family and work with pupils at school.

Time passes quickly, but she still loves cooking and preparing delicious dishes for her family.