MyhusbandandIweretravelinginItaly,withtwosmallbabies.OnedaywetookthebabiesalongtogotoAssis.Themorningwaswonderful—feelinglikehappypilgrims,wereadeachotherstoriesofSt.Franciswhilethebabiescooedandgurgledaswedroveupthewindingstreets.Butbytheendofaveryhotday,walkinguphillanddownhillinthe90-degreeItaliansun,thetwokidswerecryingnonstop.Onewasthrowingup;theotherhaddiarrhea.Wewereallirritableandexhausted,andwehadathree-hourtripaheadofustogetbacktoFlorence,wherewewerestaying.
SomewhereontheplainsofPerugiawestoppedatalittletrattoriatohavedinner.Embarrassedatourbedraggledstateandoursmelly,noisychildren,wesheepishlytriedtosneakintothediningroom,hopingwecouldsilencethechildrenlongenoughtoorderbeforetheythrewusout.Theproprietortookonelookatus,muttered,“Youwait—a—here,”andwentbacktothekitchen.Wethoughtperhapsweshouldleaverightthen,butbeforewecoulddecidewhattodo,hereappearedwithhiswifeandteenagedaughter.Beamingastheycrossedthediningroom,thetwowomenthrewouttheirarms,cried,“Oh,babies!”andtookthechildrenfromourarms,motioningustositataquietcornertable.
Forthedurationofalongandhospitabledinner,theywalkedthebabiesbackandforthinthebackofthediningroom,cooing,laughingandsingingthemtosleepingentle,musicalItalian.Theproprietoreveninsistedwestayandhaveanextraglassofwineafterthebabieswereasleep!AnyparentwhohasreachedtheendofhisorherropewithaninfantwillappreciatethatGodhadindeedsentusangelsthatday.
