We wish we could find the right words to tell the story well—the profound beauty of the bond between two sisters. That natural affection, that sense of unity that makes them complete each other, protect each other, help each other, and bring out the best in one another. Growing up together, sharing the beautiful and the ugly things, learning to see the world through each other's eyes, maturing, facing life's challenges. That solidarity. That complicity.
Vittoria is thirteen years old: dark hair, sweet eyes, a ready smile. When it came time to choose a topic for her eighth-grade thesis, she drew on her own experience as a sister.
"The Plus-Able" is the title of her work. It centers on an apparent paradox: how disability can transform into plus-ability.
Without stating it directly, Vittoria's thesis is a graceful expression of gratitude and love for her older sister, Maria Futura—a sixteen-year-old with complex disabilities.
In her introduction, Vittoria writes with clarity and force: "Plus-Able and not Dis-Able, because the prefix 'dis' in medical language already expresses something defective, anomalous, altered… as if indicating a state of inferiority that I do not accept." She continues: "It's true that someone with a disability requires more time, more attention, more care, more physical effort… but it's equally true that someone with a disability brings greater satisfaction when they reach a goal."
How true and beautiful these words are. We suspect many readers of Ombre e Luci will see themselves in this simple starting point.
From there, Vittoria lists historical figures, artists, athletes, and musicians who accomplished extraordinary things (the "plus") despite their disabilities and anomalies: Leopardi, Roosevelt, Frida Kahlo, Van Gogh, Ray Charles, King Louis XIV, Bebe Vio. Vittoria walks us through history, showing how these figures transformed "dis" into "plus"—disability not as handicap or difficulty, but as resource and specialty, making their achievements all the more remarkable.
But it is her dedication that captures our attention: "To my sister Maria Futura… For her gentleness, strength, and charm." It reads almost like a wish, perhaps a recognition—that Maria Futura might one day be counted among those who have transformed "dis" into "plus." So deep is Vittoria's gratitude for her. We asked her a few questions.
What is your relationship with Maria Futura like?
"I have fun. She makes me laugh because she's funny and outgoing."
Vittoria and Maria Futura attended the same elementary school and the same secondary school here in Rome.
It's true that someone with a disability requires more time, more attention… but it's equally true that they bring greater satisfaction when they reach a goal
They took their eighth-grade exams together and have now started high school together, each with her own anxieties and challenges.
What was it like sharing a school?
"I was never asked to help her. We did some things together—art, music—but mostly we each had our own school life. The teachers preferred to keep us separate. We'd run into each other sometimes, but Maria Futura would get shy. She'd be annoyed if I was with her. Some of the eighth-graders were asked to be part of an Integrated Theater project with Maria Futura and other students with disabilities—there was a performance at the end of the year. But the teachers decided not to include me. That was right. She needs her own space and her own independence."
Wise words from someone who thinks with maturity, who understands with calm clarity the limits, resources, and capacities of a sister who is special.
What do you like about Maria Futura?
"She's cuddly and always happy. But sometimes she plays tricks on me, and we fight when she won't let me do something or when I mess things up. She's too neat!"
Like many younger sisters, Vittoria has benefited from Maria Futura's openness. Maria Futura has often led the way—to new friendships, new connections.
"Maria Futura is very outgoing. She makes friends right away. Even when we were little, she helped me with that. I'd send her ahead to make friends with new people first."
These are the stories of sisterhood: moments, dynamics, small oddities, sometimes struggles. Experiences that, when held and guided by a family that knows how to welcome them, to give them weight and meaning, become enriching for everyone.
Vittoria, what do you want to do after high school?
"I'd like to be a doctor." Perhaps Maria Futura's journey has shaped that choice. In any case, growing up alongside a "plus-able" sister could help make her a doctor who is sensitive and attentive.
Thank you, Vittoria. In this thesis that introduced you at your eighth-grade exams, we parents find proof that living with a "plus-able" brother or sister is an added resource—a "plus," exactly—that can bear great fruit in life and make it emotionally richer. Your words give courage and hope.
Tommaso and Monica Bertolini
