The Old Aunty’s Kerchief And the Power of Love

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My Italian Home

I can picture her still so old and frail, hobbling up the steep hill leaning on her pair of homemade walking sticks.”What do you have there,Zia (Aunty)?” my husband asked, pointing to the open-mesh bag on her kerchief-covered head.I just gaped, wondering how many other nasty things she’d carried on that seldom-washed, dirty kerchief!

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