One of my most cherished memories of Mariangela goes back to my first camp: Alfedena, 1982. I was fifteen, barely knew the other young people there, and knew almost nothing about Maria, the child I was helping to care for alongside Anne. Those first few days, I struggled to understand what I was supposed to be doing. Then one afternoon—I'm not sure if it was chance or something else—I ended up with a kitchen shift alongside Mariangela. And I was even more awkward than usual.
Out of nowhere, she asked me to make coffee. I had no idea how. She smiled, teased me a little, and began to explain: "Fill the water halfway up the valve, and the coffee grounds to the top—but don't press them down." And just like that, the coffee was ready and perfect. More than that, I had found a task I could actually do. Everything became easier after that moment.
That day, Mariangela didn't just teach me how to make coffee. She welcomed me. She spent time with me. She shared something with me. She gave me work that I was capable of doing. Those are the lessons that stay in your heart forever. Thank you, Mariangela.
Giusy Nocca, 2014
