Rina Zante

I placed our lunch on the tray and left the kitchen for our room. Mammà laid asleep on the bed, a light snores filling the room. A little sad smile sat on my lips. Watching her this way broke my heart. She was exhausted, having worked her butt off today.

I tapped her. "Mammà."

The snoring came to a stop as she stirred. "Hmm?"

Slowly, her eyes let open.

"The food is here."

"Grazie a dio."

I set the tray on the floor as she rose. Her loud yawn erupted and I glanced up to see her stretching. That was right: she was tired.

Mammà had done quite...