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Katie Broyles
My Italian Family

     My family went back to Lenola this summer for another visit. Not much had changed since we’d been there last four years ago, and that was so comforting in this ever-changing, fast-paced world. It was nice to go back to somewhere that that values history and tradition.  Our short visit included the usual stops: the family cemetery guided in Italian by cousin Salvatore, a hike around and up to the top of Lenola where the famous church "Il Santuario della Madonna del Colle" is situated, a tour of the family lands and homes, a stop at the local Labbadia Grocery Store, and of course several large and long meals with so much food and hearty laughter that all seemed as it should be as the world stopped for a moment for us to experience this.  

     I will always hold in my mind a vivid picture of my great aunt Assunta cooking fresh pasta over a wood-burning fire, shouting at me to come stir and taste a strand of it, gesturing to all of the spices, vegetables and other delicious ingredients she mixes with her pasta to make an incredibly mouth-watering dish.  I think the fact that it was made with such love and with such good intentions made the food even more delicious and unforgettable.

     This visit was special for all of us because my uncle and his new bride were making their first visit to the village, and it was heart-warming to see those familiar bonds being formed for the first time.  As we prepared to leave the next day, we were loaded up with fresh fruits and vegetables grown on our family’s land, given bottles of thick and hearty olive oil and sent off with genuine hugs and promises to return and see one another some day soon.  As I looked into the eyes of my smallest cousins and hugged them, I felt a sense of joy and relief that my family will live on and on, and that the cycle will never end.  In a world so torn apart by divorce, war, betrayal, estrangement and uncertainty, it is such a wonderful thing to have this feeling of belonging, acceptance and deeply respected roots that you know will never diminish or change, no matter how far away you are.

     Check out a small Italian village, I urge you.  Chances are, you will find the same kind of love and tradition that I have found in Lenola, that which has been vibrantly celebrated for hundreds of years.  And even if you are not related to any of the people you find in the villages, I know that you will feel just as welcome and inspired as I was.  There’s something that draws you in, gives your soul a hearty helping of peace and completion, and lets you go gently back in the world, somehow a more fulfilled human being.


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