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I grew up in a small Italian town at the foot of the Alps. We didn’t have television, computers, or any other type of home entertainment. During the long winter evenings we listened to stories. My grandmother could tell fantastic tales of fairies and monsters. Often cousins and other neighborhood kids will gather in our kitchen to listen to Grandma spin her magic.
There were a few occasions when she would be up until late to finish a chore, and I would ask my grandfather to tell me a bedtime story. My grandfather’s stories were ‘real life’ ones. According to him, of course. Back then I never doubted him and as I grew older and reflected on it, I began to think that indeed they were true slices of his life and that at some level they were meant to teach me something. That inspired me to blog about it at first, and finally I decided to share some of his and my stories with you. I hope we don't disappoint you.
Customer Review:
By KayLibon February 25, 2015
Want
to weep a while, laugh a bit, then cry a little more? I have the
prescription for you: read a minimum of 4 tales from Stories My
Grandfather Told Me and buy a new box of tissues in the morning. This is
a different view of Italy with austere black & white photographs
illustrating the setting & characters. I found myself becoming
immersed in the times and tales of generations past. I grieved the loss
of my grandmother, aunts, uncles, & parents each with their vivid
tales of their glory days. This book holds memories that must be taken
out, held, & examined regularly to maintain their integrity. I'd
recommend this trip down the author's memory lane to remind us all to
value the elders in your life. Value the tales your grandfather may tell
you.
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