She opened the bag and, pulling it out with such sweetness, added: "Here I show you, I thought it might have some importance for you".
I thanked her and I started to watch it. It was the usual postcard Vittorio wrote to Claudia. I read with superficiality what was written on, my attention was directed only and exclusively to possible numbers to be able to play to the lot in the next extraction. I did not find particular numbers, apart from the date, 4 October. 1939 and the post office stamp, Naples, in good evidence. I was perplexed for a moment. Among the thousand thoughts flashing my mind, this seemed to me the most rational: "Perhaps yesterday, having made him say a mass, Vittorio sent Laura to make me play these numbers. Perhaps this is Vittorio's message ".
I asked kindly to Laura the permission to take a picture of the postcard to be able to observe it at home.
Laura nodded, aware of the importance of the thing. We sat at the bar for some time talking about Claudia, Vittorio and the book. I saw she was very interested in this story. Then I added: "Just this morning I decided to write the second book, reporting entirely the story written by Vittorio".
And she, encouraging me, in a subtle and melodious voice: "You are doing well, Angelo, you are doing well. You absolutely must do it, because it's a beautiful story ".
At the end Laura greeted me with a promise: to send me the photo of the ring after her return to Rome.
That day I decided to play the numbers 9 and 39 on the wheel of Naples.
The next day, August 22, looking at the draw, I saw the numbers on the wheel of Naples were very different, but both the 9 and 39 had come out, but on the wheel of Cagliari.
Instinctively, I took the phone and I went to look for the picture of the postcard more carefully, thinking that maybe it was not the message Vittorio wanted to give me, maybe he wanted to make me understand something else.
In fact, on the postcard there was written: "Finally we are ... Affectionately Vittorio".
I know this sentence was addressed to Claudia, to tell her their marriage was close, but inside me I considered the phrase was addressed to me. Laura was chosen by Vittorio to deliver this message to me. With these words, delivered to me immediately after my decision to write entirely his book, Vittorio wanted to let me know he wanted the publication of his book. In fact, he wrote to Claudia hundreds of postcards but this was the last one, there were no more. I wonder then, among the many cards Sabatino still had at Easter, why did he give Laura just this? Could he give another one with a different message, why this one?
This is another mystery surrounding the history.
On the day 24/08/2017 the following numbers were issued to the superenalotto (Italian lottery):
40 year of the marriage of Claudia and Vittorio
45 year in which Vittorio wrote the poem
72 number found on a letter
85 year of birth of Luigi
88 number found on the negative
That night unfortunately I played a two-way system, I realized only a few 3 and some 2.
Other readers of my first book were more fortunate. In fact, I received several messages from people who, hit by history, played the lot.
A reader sent me this message:
"Mr. Grassia, I wanted to thank you, because, reading his book that among other things I liked very much, I also decided to play the lot. Well, June 3, I do not know why, I was reminded of the date of the poem 25/1/45. I played € 2 on the Naples wheel and I won € 9,000.00. May God bless you. "
I replied: "I am very happy you enjoyed the book so much and you won the lot, you are evidently a sensitive person, and the book perhaps rewards the good-hearted ones."
A few days ago another reader wrote to me on 19/08/17 he played the date of the marriage of Claudia and Vittorio 25/1/40 on all the wheels and also he won the tern.
I am very happy for them, but even more so because my book manages to help people with good feelings.
While I’m writing, I get the news on 11/10/2017 in Aversa a 45,000.00 Euros tern has been won playing on the wheel of Naples the numbers 7/10/78.
Well, even these numbers were inside my first book. We do not yet know who the lucky winner is, but I sincerely hope that, to be kissed by luck, he was one of my readers.
Following this series of extraordinary and inexplicable events, the only right and wise thing I could do to pay tribute to these two great men, Luigi and his son Vittorio, was to tell their lives.
I do not know why I was chosen and by whom.
But I have the certainty of having been chosen by someone or something, also because my motto is: "Rien n'est plus beaux, que l'amour"
What follows is the book Vittorio wrote and in a certain sense it has changed my life.
4
LAUDARE DIGNOS, HONESTA
ACTIO EST
SENECA .. 102
To my cousin LUIGI PALLADINO
For you, my cousin, I liked to tell the deeds; if narrations can be called the poor scraps of my inexperienced pen, I dedicate with affection and admiration this my tenuous job, begging you to excuse if unaware of "the beautiful style" I have not been able to illustrate your life as it really was, and in its depth, and in its apex.
Therefore, I beg your pardon and nevertheless I hold on the hope this homage be pleasing to you and it remains as a pledge of my sincere friendship.
Vale Stefania Palladino
Ortobello, 25 May 1906
LUIGI
Born from a wealthy family of the province, Luigi had reached the age of six always enjoying all the satisfactions the splendour can grant to children and, endowed with a sweet and serene nature, he had been filled with kisses and caresses, gifts and surprises; the sun had fallen on the child's days, always illuminating his little head.
But a sudden wind rose to dry up the harvests of wealth, of joy, of the hope of that young life, of that candid youth. Due to financial difficulties, his family began to decay, doing bad business from day to day so that, in two years, he lost all his substance, plunging into a harrowing misery. So Luigi, aged eight, the age in which children enjoy the games more and abandon themselves to the carefree joy of their green years, found himself in the most frightful misery, and he was forced to leave the toys to earn a living.
With the reflection of a man and with the will to work, he went to a coiffeur who, in exchange of his little services, thought of his existence.
From this moment on he began his hard but laborious life, painful but honest, unbearable sometimes but always loyal and reputable.
Do not believe that, having only eight years, he had not understood the full depth of his misfortune, because the smile was banished from his lips, the joy no longer shone in his clear eye and the childish brigades counted one less companion, while the despair took possession of his soul, supported only by a bright dream that came back with his fantasy of a child unaware of the world. He did not know how to set a goal, but he often repeated what he felt impressed in his soul in fiery characters: "when I will be twenty years old! .."
In this period of sorrow he also lost his father, which increased his despair, so he moved to Naples with his family, where a new series of troubles began for him and his family.
Also here he went to a coiffeur but, not being brought for this job, he entered as a garçon in a hotel. Meanwhile the years passed and his early ideas matured, acquired at the school of misfortune. He had heard of "foreign parts", where good positions could be reached with work that would have enabled a comfortable life; he inquired, he made his decisions and bold and confident