nonna's storiesWith love,

Rosa

Dear Rosa,

When I was five years old, there was no grass in our yard only cement. My neighbor’s house had a yard that was all grass, and in the grass there grew the prettiest yellow flowers. They were called dandelions. I wanted to pick them but my friend said not to. If I picked them, she said, I would pee my pants. So I did not pick them. Then we moved to another house where there was a lot of grass and dandelions too. I picked the dandelions and I did not pee my pants. My friend was wrong.

Love, Nonna

June 7th, 1993

1

Dear Rosie,

One time when I was nine years old, my mother sent me to the store to buy something. She told me to hurry because she needed it right away.

I walked to the store as fast as I could. When I got there, I had to wait a long time because there were other customers ahead of me. After I bought what my mother wanted, I started to walk home very fast. I saw from a block away that my mother was waiting for me on the porch.

Just as I was walking past my friend’s house, her mother’s geese came walking onto the road in front of me with their necks stretched out as if they wanted to bite me! they made a lot of noise, onk, onk, onk! I was very scared and stopped walking and just stood there with my heart beating very fast. My mother yelled, “Gilda, what are you doing? Hurry up!” I said “I can’t, Ma. The geese won’t let me through. So my mother walked off the porch, came down the road to the geese, waved her arms at them and said, “Shoo, shoo, shoo,” and the geese got very scared and went back into their yard. I was so happy that my mother rescued me from those mean geese. She was so brave, don’t you think so?

Love, Nonna

June 14th, 1993

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Dear Rosa,

When I was nine years old, my family moved to a little house which had a big front yard and a bigger back yard, full of grass and trees and some flowers. My father wanted me to be happy in our new home, so he made a swing for me in our back yard. I loved it. It went so high when I sat on it and pumped with my legs. One day, two girls, who were sisters, came over to play. I did not know them. They said they lived in the house with the geese in the yard. Their names were Evelyn and Margaret and they were very nice. Evelyn asked to get on my swing. I said “All right you sit on the swing and I will stand on it and pump.” So we did.

We were having fun until all of a sudden, the rope to the swing broke! The swing dropped to the ground. I was not hurt, but Evelyn was crying because her foot was stuck under the swing. She went home with her sister Margaret, and I could hear her crying all the way home.

The next day, I walked past her house and I saw that her foot was wrapped up in a white bandage. Then her foot got better and she was fine. I was happy about that, but she never played on my swing again and I was sorry about that. Isn’t it too bad that accidents happen?

Love, Nonna

July 2nd, 1993

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When I was seven years old my sisters taught me how to play jacks. Then I played jacks by myself over and over.

One day, Olga Antonik, who was my sister Margie’s friend, came over, but Margie wasn’t home so Olga and I played jacks. We played on the counter in my father’s empty store, and there were just the two of us in there. We played for a long time and I liked it so much. Olga said it was so nice because we didn’t fight over the game. Playing is fun when there’s no fighting, don’t you think so? Love, Nonna

August 17th, 1993

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Dear Rosie,

I have a scar on my right wrist. I got it when I was five years old. It happened on a nice summer day. I had gone to my friends’ yard to play. They had funny nick names--Lalla, Geeta, Baby, CooCoo, and Weeco. Their real names were Helen, Margaret, Marie, August, and Dominic. They had five older brothers and sisters who also had funny nick names.

On this nice summer day, Weeco and CooCoo were arguing with one another because Weeco, who was 2 years old, wanted to go with CooCoo who was four years old. CooCoo was going to his friend’s yard to play and he did not want Weeco to go with him, so he went out of his yard and closed the gate. Weeco was so angry, he took his bottle--a baby bottle with a nipple--and threw it as hard as he could on the ground. The bottle was made of glass and it broke into many pieces. One piece hit me on my wrist and blood came out. I ran home. My father was sitting in front of his store.

He stopped the bleeding. He put iodine on my wrist and then he put a bandage on it. I loved my father for making it better since that day all my life I have had a scar the shape of a quarter moon or crescent moon on my wrist. All because CooCoo wouldn’t let his brother Weeco go with him. But I wasn’t mad at CooCoo or Weeco. Things just happen. Love, Nonna

Sunday, October 10th, 1993

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Dear Rosie,

When I was little, before I started school, my mother took me downtown with her very often. I remember the first time she took me to the department store. It was the tallest building in Aliquippa, five stories high.

My mother took me to the back of the store where a lot of people were waiting near a wide door. When the door opened, people came out of a very little room and my mother and I and the toerh people who were waiting got into the little room. Then someone closed a steel gate to the room. I started to cry and cry. I thought I was in jail. My mother said, “What’s the matter, Gilda?” I cried harder. The other people said, “Don’t cry, little girl, everything is all right.” I sobbed. Then the room started to move. I bellowed. My mother said, “Gilda, stop it!” Then the room stopped moving, the doors opened and everyone got out. As we walked to the shoe department, my mother looked down at me and said, “Why were you crying?” “Because I thought we were in jail.” My mother smiled at me and squeezed my hand. And then she bought me a pair of brown sandals.

Love, Nonna

November 22nd, 1993

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Dear Rosie,

I told you how I got the scar on my wrist. Now I will tell you how I got the scar on my knee.

One winter day, I was coming home from school. There was a big hill to go down when I left the school. I was running to catch up with my friends who were half way down the hill already because they had been first in line. The hill was covered with snow and ice and I fell as I was running. My knee hurt and when I looked at it, there was a lot of blood. I put a handkerchief around it and walked home. When I got home, I told my father what happened. He put peroxide on it to clean out the ashes. Then he put iodine on it and oh my it burned. Then he put a big white bandage on it and every day after that it got a little bit better but I still have a scar.

Love, Nonna

January 5th, 1994

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Dear Rosie,

One day when I was in third grade a girl in my class whose name was Dorothy said to me “Gilda, I am going to beat you up after school today.” I got scared and I said, “Why?” She said, “Just because, that’s why.” I felt terrible. I had never done anything mean to her. All day in school I kept thinking about Dorothy, how strong she looked, and how it would hurt when she beat me up, and I kept hoping she was just kidding.

At dismissal time, I was in the beginning of the line near the door. I stole a look at her where she was standing in the middle of the line. She was grinning with her eyes shining and her mouth was moving without making a sound. I could tell she was saying, “I’m going to beat you up.” When the teacher opened the door for us to leave, I walked as fast as I could out of the school and then I ran as fast as I could. I looked over my shoulder and there she was, coming after me. I ran even faster. Then I heard Dorothy laughing. I looked back and she was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, holding her stomach and laughing. I walked the rest of the way home and kept wondering why she stopped chasing me. I finally decided she just thought it was freat fun to scare me. It wasn’t great fun for me. She really did scare me.

Love Nonna

P.S. Please give the enclosed coupon to your mother. Thanks.

January 20th, 1994

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Dear Rosie,

Many times, when I was little, my mother would buy clothes for me from a catalogue. One day, she opened the big Sears-Roebick Catalogue and she said, “Gilda, I am going to buy this coat for you.” I looked at the picture of the coat and I said, “On, no! I don’t like that coat.” She asked why. I told her becuase it looked like a coat a boy would wear. She said, “No, no, no, you’re wrong, it’s a beautiful coat for a little girl.” And she ordered it. When it came, it was just as it looked in the catalogue, and I didn’t like it at all. I told my mother I wasn’t going to wear it. My mother said, “Yes, you will.” And she made me wear it. I was very unhappy. My sister Ann said, “Gilda, go to Dorothy’s house and tell her to give you my cigarette butt.” I went to Dorothy’s house wearing my new coat. When Dorothy saw me she said, “Gilda, what a beautiful coat!” I said, “I hate it. Annie wants her cigarette butt.” So she gave me the butt and I took it home to Annie.

The next day I went to school. Miss McCafferty, my fourth grade teacher, said “Gilda, what a beauti-ful coat!” I said “I think it’s ugly.” She said, “No, no, no, it’s beautiful.”

When I grew a little more, and that coat did not fit me, I was very happy.

But I think if I would find a coat like that today, navy blue, gold navy buttons, and a navy insig-nia sewn on the front, I would think it was beautiful, and if I were lucky enough, that it was my size, I would always wear it when the weather was cold and be very happy. If you ever see one, please let me know.

Love, Nonna

Sunday July 10th, 1994

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Dear Rosa, When I was seven years old I lived next door to a little boy named Sonny and I was invited to his birthday party. I did not have a good time and I will tell you why.

One of his presents was two pairs of boxing gloves. He was four years old and didn’t seem to care about the boxing gloves. But his cousin Anita Ruscitti did! She was nine years old and she put one pair on her hands and she said, “Here Gilda, you put on the other pair,” and I did. Then she started to punch me with those gloves on, in my face and over my body. I tried to cover myself with my hands and my arms so she couldn’t hurt me but I did not punch her back because I was so busy trying to keep her from hurting me. After a long time, a grown up said, “That’s enough, Anita. You and Gilda take those gloves off.” And we did.

I thought Anita was mean to punch me. And we could have had so much fun if we had played catching ball, or having a running race, or playing jump rope. Then we could have been good friends. But I never wanted to play with her again. And I never did. Too bad for her. Love, Nonna

November 6th, 1994

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Dear Rosa,

Where I lived, when I was a little girl like you, most of the people were Italian. My mother and father came to this country from Italy, so they were Italian.

The thing all the Italian families did on Christmas was to have a big, wonderful dinner full of good things that we didn’t have to eat the rest of the year.

Two of my favorite foods were artichokes and tangerines. How I loved to eat the artichoke on my plate--a whole one for myself--leaf by leaf and then the bigge st treat was what we called the heart of the artichoke. Oh, was it ever good!

Then for dessert I ate a tangerine. First of all, the smell that came our of it when I first peeled mine was so flavorful. I loved the sweet, burning spray of it on my eyes, mouth, and nose. When I put the slices in my mouth, I thought there was nothing in the world that tasted so good. Every time I smell a tangerine, it makes me think of Christmas. Sometimes, after dinner I would go out and play in the snow, but mostly I stayed in our very warm house and had fun singing and playing games with my sisters and brothers.

I love you, Nonna

P.S. Thank you for the card you sent to help me remember what I wrote about to you on all the other cards.

Wednesday, December 21st, 1994

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Dear Rosa, When I was nine years old I did some-thing that made my mother and father very sad and very worried. This is what I did:

On a school day, the teachers took us to the movie theater in Aliquippa to see the movie “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs”. We went on the bus. I loved the movie. When it was all over and time to get on the bus again, I thought, “Gee, this is very close to where I used to live. I would like to see my old friends again, especially Lala.” So when I walked out of the theater, without saying anything to my teacher or classmates, I walked to my old nieghborhood. I went to Lala’s house and played with her and saw all her sisters and brothers. She had then of them. Then I saw my brother Paul and he came and took me home. At home my mother and father were crying because they thought something ter-rible had happened to me. They had called the teacher, the principle, and the police and nobody knew where I was. The next day the principle, Mrs. Tchippert, came into my class and said “Where is the bad girl who did not get on the bus after the movies?” I put my hand up and she scolded me and told the class what I had done and she told me never to do it again. And I never did. Love, Nonna

August 15th, 1995

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Dear Rosa,

I want to tell you about my first day at New Sheffield School. Until I was nine and a half years old, I went to Jones School. Then my family moved to a new place across town. The morning after we moved into our house in the new neigh-borhood, my mother woke meup to go to my new school. When I left the house, I really did not know exactly where the school was. I saw another girl walking and I asked her where it was. She was very nice and she said, “Walk with me, I’m going to school too.” Her name was Ruth Ann. She was a very lovely person. When we got to school, the principal, Mrs. Tschippert, sent me to the 3rd Grade room. Miss De Hart, the teacher, was just getting ready to give a spelling test. I thought it was very easy because I knew all the words from my old school. But I missed one word. The teacher pronounced Mount Fuji, but she said just to write the word Fuji. The class had been study-ing about Japan, and Mount Fuji is a volcano there. After the teacher repeated it I wrote on my paper FUDGE because thats what it sounded like to me. But the teacher didn’t count that one. She said to the class, holding up my paper, “Look, our new student, Gilda, got all the words right.” I was proud but at the same time I was embarrassed.

Love, Nonna

August 28th, 1995

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Dear Rosie,

When Unlce Tommy went to Kindergarden, he learned so many things, and he liked it very much. He learned songs, and he learned stories, and when he came home he would sing the songs for me and tell me the stories.

Another thing he learned to do was to keep his finger nails clean. The second day of kindergarden he asked me to please clean his finger nails for him because it was hard for him to do it by himself. I did it for him and he watched and made sure I got every little bit of dirt out. Then, the next day and the day after that and the day after that and everyday, he asked me to clean his nails. I did it bit I wondered why he wanted his fingernails so absolutely clean all the time. Finally I asked him, “Tom, why do you want your finger nails so perfectly clean all the time?” He said, “”Because, in Kindergarden, the kid with the cleanest finger nails gets to lead the line to the bathroom.”

And he was very proud that the teacher chose him very often to do that. And I was very proud to have a little boy with perfectly clean finger nails.

Love, Nonna

January 19th, 1996

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Dear Rosa, My brother bought me a bicycle when I was young, but much bigger than you are now. I watched him take the bike out of it’s box on the driveway. It was a beautiful 26 inch two wheeler with twin head-lights, a horn, and a luggage rack. I got on it and took a ride right away, but it started to rain and I put the bike on the porch where the rain could not touch it. Then I went inside and started to read. When I finished reading, I went out on the proch to look at my bike. It wasn’t there! I looked out on the street and there was my big sister riding my bike! When she came up there driveway I saw it was all wet because of the rain and I was really, really, really angry. I took my bike from my sister, got a big rag, and dried the twin head lights, the horn box, the luggage rack, all of the metal, and each spoke on eachwhell and the spaces between the wheels. I made it look beautiful again. Then I told my sister she could never ride my bike again. I was very mean about it and it made her unhappy. I wish I had not been so mean. I should have said to my sister, “Please don’t ever ride my bike in the rain and now you must dry it, if you ever want to ride it again.” Or I could have said, “Anne, you got my bike all wet. Will you fry it please and make it look shiny again?” Or I could have said, “If this were your bike, would you ride it in the rain?”--all in a very nice voice. I would have had to count to ten first before I could say it in a nice voice. Do you have any ideas on what I could have said? in a nice voice?

Much love, Nonna

January 26th, 1996

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Dear Rosa, I will tell you about how I learned to ride a two wheel bike. I went to see my friend Nancy Lee on day during the summer vacation. I was so surprised when I saw a brand new bike by her kitchen door. It was her birthday present. She and I took turns pedal-ing it while it stood on its stand. We did this for a long time and practiced putting the break on to stop the back wheel. Then Nancy said, “Let’s try to ride it around the house.” So I held the bike from the back while Nancy tried to keep from falling. Then it was my turn and she did the same for me. After a while her mother called her in for lunch, but Nancy told me I could keep riding it. So I did. I was very careful not to let that beautiful new bike fall. All the while, Danny Araovich, whose mother’s anem as Dorothy (my sister’s friend) was watching me from the street. When Nancy came back outside, Danny told her, “Nancy, Gilda banged your bike into the tree and she put a lot of dents and scratches on it.” Now you know, Rosa, from what I have told you that that was a great big lie. I said, “Nancy, don’t believe him. I did not band your bike into the tree. You are a big liar, Danny Mraovich.” But Danny kept repeating his lie over and over and laughing while he said it because I was getting so upset. Nancy looked at her bike and saw it was just at beautiful as ever, so she ignored Danny and began to ride her bike again with my help. Now don’t you think that Danny was an awful trouble maker? That was his idea of a joke and it wasn’t funny to me.

Love, Nonna

January 30th, 1996

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Dear Rosa,

One Easter I went to see my friend Nancy Lee. She got so many toys for Easter. we had a very happy time playing with her new toys. When it was time for Nancy to have dinner with her family, I put my coat on to go home and Nancy’s mother gave me a wonderful surprise--an Easter basket filled with candy. When I got home and my mother saw how nice Nancy’s mom was to me, she fillled a bowl with black olives and told me to take it to Nancy’s folks.

When Nancy’s mother uncovered the bowl she said, “What are these Gilda?” I said, “Olives.” She thought olives were always green. When I returned home, dinner was ready and we all ate together.Then I ate a lot of candy out of my Easter basket. I hope Nancy’s family liked the black olives as much as I liked the Easter candy.

Love, Nonna

April 2nd, 1996

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Dear Rosa,

My mother loved toys even though she was grown up. Her favorite kinds were wind up toy dogs that would move across the floor and make puppy-like noises. Their mouths open up and out would come, “yipe, yipe, yipe” in a high screechy voice. My mother laughed and laughed until the toy stopped moving. Then she would wind it up again, and laugh again.

She once bought a toy that was a little yellow plastic bird. She put a little water into it and then she blew into it. The toy bird chirped and chirped just like a real canary. And again my mother laughed and laughed.

Someday I’m going to find a toy like that bird and when you come to see me I will make it chirp and chirp for you. And you and I will laugh together, O.K.?

Do you have any toys that make big people laugh? Does your brother? Tell me about them.

Love, Nonna

April 9th, 1996

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Dear Rosa, One day my motehr to me to the five and ten cent store. While she was shopping for what she needed, I saaw a pair of roller skates. I asked her to buy them for me. She said no, that I couldn’t have them. I asked her again and again and each time the answer was no. I sat down on the floor of the store and cried and cried that I wanted those skates. She paid no attention to me. When she finished paying for what she needed, she said, “Come on, Gilda. We’re going home now.” I was very unhappy as we walked up the hill to go home, but when I got home my friend LaLa called me over to play hopscotch. I loved that game. Each time I played it, I became better at it and it made me feel so good to play it well. Another game I played and liked very much was jump rope and the more I played it the better I became at it also. when I wasn’t playing those two games, I played jacks or I just played with my baby doll whose name was Sally. (Her name was Sally because the first book I learned to read in first grade was abou t a girl named Sally.) Sometimes I played London Bridge is Falling Down with other kids. It was fun.

You can see there were many ways to have fun even if I didn’t have those skates. Love, Nonna

June 18th, 1996

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Dear Rosa,

When I was little I lived on a big hill in Aliquippa. My friends liked to slide down the hill and I went with them sometimes. This is what I would do: I took a piece of cardboard from a cardboard box and sat down on it at the top of the path that people walked on to go downtown. The path was dirt. There was no grass on it because people walked on it all the time. Somebody gave me a push and the cardboard moved just like a sled, faster and faster as I slid downhill. The ride made alot of dust. It was a long walk to go back up the hill and do it over agin but I didn’t mind because it was so much fun. I also took turns giving somebody else a push.

When I went home I had a lot of dust on me and so did all the other kids. One time when we got home, the fireman were in the street. They had turned on the fire hydrant and we all had fun running through the water. It was fun and it washed off all the dust.

Love, Nonna

June 29th 1996

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Dear Rosa,

When I was in second grade, a student teacher came to stay with our class to learn how to teach. Our regualr teacher, Miss Cammpbell, let her take care of the reading group I was in.

One day, in our reading group, it was my turn to read out loud. When I came to a word I had never seen before, I stopped. She said, “Well, sound it out.” So I looked at it ver hard. It was spelled o-v-e-n. In my mind I first sounded it out as oven and that did not sound right. Meanwhile, the student teacher kept saying impatiently, “Try it, Gilda.” I just sat there, silent. I was so afraid if I said it wrong, everyone would laugh at me and she would think I was stupid.

She got so angry at me for not trying, her face turned red. But I wouldn’t budge. Then she turned to the group and said, “What is this everybody?” and they shouted out oven. I still didn’t know what it meant and she explained it was the part of the stove you put the bread in to bake. “Oh,” I thought, “that’s what we call ‘forno’ at home.” But I didn’t tell the teacher that. I was happy when that teacher left to go back to college.

I’m sure if Miss Campbell had been with our reading group that day, she would have hugged me and said “Whisper it in my ear,” and then said, “good try, Gilda,” if it was wrong and then asked the group to say it.

Today, if I say a word wrong, it doesn’t bother me because I found out the best thing is to laugh at myself and then everyone will laugh with me not at me.

Love, Nonna

September 18th, 1996

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Dear Rosa,

I was just thinking about learning the play the piano. I’m taking lessons now even though I’m 71 years old. I just love it when I’ve learned to play a new song, but it takes practice every day to learn. When I was in fourth grade, I started to take piano lessons from the music teacher in school, Mrs. McWilliams. At first it was so easy, I didnot have to practice and Mrs. McWilliams always said, “very good.” Then, after two months, she gave me the song Jingle Bells to learn. It wasn’t so easy anymore and I thought I wasn’t smart enough to learn it.

Mrs. McWilliams was puzzled that I didn’t play it well and she assigned it to me again. I tried doing it and it still didn’t come easy. At my next lesson, Mrs. McWilliams said there were other children in school who wanted to take lessons, and if I wasn’t going to practice, then she would start teaching one of them instead of me. So I stopped going to piana lessons because I really thought I was too dumb to learn the piano.

I realize now that if I had known how to practice I could have done it. Now when I come to a hard part, I practice just that one part over and over and over and over again until I get it. Too bad it took me so long to find that out. Oh well.

Love Nonna

P.S. The dogs on the card must think this is a very sad story, right?

March 3rd, 1997

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Dear Rosa,

When I was ten years old, my father (who was Emily’s Nonno) planted a huge vegtable garden. He did not have a job and he wanted to grow enough food to feed his family. There was a farmer at the top of the hill who let his cow roam. That was fine when the cow ate the grass in the meadows, and the fruit under the trees in the old orchard that nobody seemed to own. But one day, she discovered my father’s vegtable gar-den and ate everything happily until my father saw her and forced her to leave. But she came back and did more damage.

So my father went up to the farm to talk to the farmer. The farmer said he was sorry about all the vegtables she had eaten, but she was used the roaming free and he could not keep watch over her; he was to busy.

One morning I got up and went out to the kitchen porch and to my great surprise there was a cow tied to the porch post and my father was milking her. My mother poured the milk from the pail into a cup for me. I drank it. Later that day, the farmer came down to get his cow. My father wouldn’t let him have it. So the farmer went into the town to complain to the justice of peace (we called him the “squire”). My father went to the squire to tell his side of the story. The squire said my father was right and that the farmer had to pay my father 6 (in today’s money that would be worth 60) for all the vegtables the cow had eaten before he could get his cow back.

March 29th, 1996

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So, the farmer paid my father the six dollars, my father gave the farmer back his cow, my family got to eat all the fresh vegtables we could eat all summer long, because the farmer somehow kept his cow away from my father’s garden. I wonder how the farmer did that after-all? And my mother canned all the vegtables we couldn’t eat and we ate them in the winter.

Love Nonna

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Dear Rosa,

When your mother, Emily, was two and a half years old, she loved to watch me make cake. One after noon, when the baby (Gina) was taking a nap, I started to make a Devils Food Cake, which is a chocolate cake. Emily got very happy when she saw what I was going to do and she quickly pulled a chair over to the sink. She tood on it to be able to watch me. The recipe called for but-termild which I did not have. As a substitute I measured 1 cup of regular milk and started to add 1 tablespooon of vinegar to it. Emily cried out very loud, “NO MOMMY, NO!”

She had always seen me washing windows and washing the floor with water and vinegar. To her vinegar was for cleaning the house and it should not be put into cake. I assured her it was allright and the cake would be good to eat. Then the recipe called for baking soda and ùhen I started to add it to the flour, she yelled again, “NO MOMMY, NO!!” She knew I used baking soda for skin burns and she did not want to have medicine in the cake. Again I reassured her the cake would be good to eat. she trusted me and when the cake was ready to eat, she was not afraid to eat it and enjoyed it as much as she enjoyed all the cakes I made. She was right to warn me because she was sure I was making a mistake based on what she knew about vinegar and baking soda.

May 12th, 2000

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She learned something that day, that vinegar and baking soda can be used for many different things, and to trust her mother. I wonder if Emily remember that day.

Love from you Nonna.

Nonna & Rosa