From the time Antonella was small, I bought her the most beautiful dresses in the shop windows. It didn't matter that she sat in her stroller; her father and I took her for walks along the lovely seafront promenade in Reggio Calabria with such joy. But we knew she needed to be around other children. We looked for a kindergarten willing to accept her, limitations and all. I was fortunate in my search. The staff was sensitive and well-trained, able to include her in every activity. Whenever a problem arose, they consulted me, and together we found a way forward.
I remember her first carnival so clearly. When games happened at a table, Antonella stayed in her stroller, but when they moved to the floor or around the room, the teachers placed her on her hands and knees, and she joined the other children freely. That's how she took part in everything. For that first carnival, the teachers and I decided together to buy her a tiger mask. On her hands and knees, Antonella could follow the other masked children as they performed for all the parents. In the years that followed, she always wore the mask of a four-legged animal. I remember how beautiful she was, smiling in her jaguar costume and her pink panther dress.
Meanwhile, her physical therapy continued, and over time it paid off. Antonella learned to stand for a few minutes, even supported by the hands of children her own age. And what a joy it was when we could finally buy the costume she dreamed of: the fairy dress.
Today, Antonella is a grown woman who has achieved most of the goals she set for herself. It is still a pleasure to take her for walks along that same beautiful promenade. She is beautiful, warm, serene. Though she no longer sits in her umbrella stroller—now she travels in a lightweight wheelchair.
