It was Easter. I remember how you counted down the days until you’d board the plane. For about a month before the trip, you’d greet everyone—friends and strangers alike—with the same announcement: “Hi, I’m going to Florence”, every single day.
One of my favorite moments happened on a narrow street, just before we reached the square of Santa Maria Novella. On your left, you spotted a gelateria and asked for the first ice cream of the day, just as we’d promised you: “two gelatos a day.”
You asked the man behind the counter, repeating the phrase your mom had taught you: “Un gelato fragola per favore”, and I decided to keep you company by getting lemon. Halfway through, I offered you a taste of mine. I gave you a small bite. You tried it, and your eyes went wide.
See, I’ve taught you well too.
😄
“Lemon with mint,” I thought to myself. Unforgettable.
“Dad, can I have the lemon?” you asked.
“Yes, my love, of course you can.” And you devoured it.
“Dad? Can I have another lemon gelato, please?” you asked.
If you’re going to be spoiled a little, let it be on vacation, I thought. “Yes, of course you can, but this is the last one for today.”
We sat on a bench in the square while a group of street musicians played. You finished your gelato, then started feeding the pigeons with a cookie.
“Thank you, Dad! For sharing your gelato with me. You made me so happy!” you said with the biggest smile.
Then we danced to the music and sat down on the stones of the square.
I don’t know if it was the vacation atmosphere, the beautiful Florence, or simply your wide, honest smile.
I don’t know if it was just a small expression of gratitude from a four-year-old, but it was one of the most beautiful moments I’ve ever shared with you.
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