Page 30 - A Life - my Live - my path

Herding goats and sheep in Italy

Getting back to my mission, in a village of some 400 souls,
we often helped each other out.
Near our house, next to the fountain, lived a family with a
son of about 10 years old. I had to escort him to the
20
meadow chosen by his parents, he with his goats and sheep,
and I with mine. As usual, we had a little bag in which our
mothers put a piece of cheese and a piece of bread so that,
like the grown-ups, we could eat around 9 o'clock in the
morning, as we were leaving early to avoid the heat.

Anecdote: cheese and bread
This story is reminiscent of Gavroche in Victor Hugo's "Les
Misérables".
At parties, during conversations, I sometimes had to
explain in a little more detail my roots, and my early
childhood in particular. Some people would immediately
look at me with compassion, almost pity.
On purpose, I took on the 'role' in the manner of commedia
dell'arte and explained to them:
You know, when you come from a small village in Abruzzo,
when you're 5 years old and you don't have enough to eat

every day, you have a hard time. Simply put, when I was 5
years old and I went to look after the goats and sheep and
at 9 o'clock we had to eat, the boy I was with would take
bread and cheese out of his bag, while I often had just a
piece of bread.

20 His name was Primo
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