Mariolina Salvatori | Stories of Miracles

From Maria Famá,
Italian (Sicilian) American Poet

on Apr 16, 2016

THE BLACK MADONNA OF TINDARI The Black Madonna of Tindari in Sicily took gentle vengeance on a woman who came on a pilgrimage, her baby in her arms. On climbing the shrine’s wind swept cliff, the woman exclaimed “I traveled so far to see somebody blacker than me!” In an instant, her child disappeared transported to a spot of dry sand below in the midst of the Mediterranean Sea the woman screamed, a boat was sent to rescue her child she realized that The Black Madonna of Tindari taught that racism is a sin. – Maria Famá

From Maria Terrone,
American Poet and Writer

on Apr 14, 2016

Faith In the church vestibule I passthe monitor that registers the bodiesof the faithful as grayflickers, a second of ashon a screen, and heave against the doors.At 3 p.m. no one else is here but saints,corporeal in their sandals and robes,carrying staffs, books, painted bouquets,their kind faces crackingas if they too knowhow it feels to come apart. Wedged into the fingers of St. Judeis a hand-printed prayer, a paper budcurled so tight, I feel its pleafor a miracle tug the back of my throat:cure the cancer, kick the habit–the ineffablelonging of a stranger’s words aliveon my own tongue. Days later, the hand holds insteada shriveling rose stem.Petals lie scattered aboutlike small, white-robed monks,backs arched to heaven,faces pressing stone. – Maria Terronewww.mariaterrone.com

Lettuce Crop

on Apr 4, 2016

We give you thanks for having given us this crop of lettuce Tiversio Reyes y Familia Varrio los le Chujeros Celaya Guanajuato 1956

From Maria Famá,
Italian (Sicilian) American Poet

on Mar 20, 2016

Dear Mariolina, Al Tacconelli urged me to write to you about my father’s experience of a holy card during WWII on the frontline in France. My father’s name was Rosario and he was devoted to La Madonna del Rosario, sometimes called La Madonna di Pompeii. In 1939, my father left Sicily for the USA when his father called his sons to America where he’d become a citizen. My grandmother and aunt remained in Sicily all through the war. Still learning English, my father was drafted into the army and was in the Normandy invasion. My father had met my mother, Francesca Guaetta, when he was taken to visit other paesani here in Philadelphia, They married in 1948. My mother, still a teenager in high school, wrote to my father all through the war as did her own mother, Domenica Bongiovanni Guaetta. In September 1944, my father’s onomastico on October 7 was approaching and my...

From Al Tacconelli,
Italian American Poet and Painter

on Mar 19, 2016

The role of immaginette in my life began when I was young. I remember seeing holy cards tucked on picture frames––pictures of angels stomping on the fiery heads of sinners, Saint Rita receiving the stigmata, Asian babies being baptized by angels and missionary nuns, and all the others which I’ve forgotten. These holy cards have been lost over time, but I still have three cards; the one just mentioned about Asian babies, and Our Lady of Mount Carmel, Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception––printed 1911 in Italy. These managed to survive. I have them tucked in a special book beside my bed. I feel comforted knowing they were handled by my mother and grandmother. In the movie Moon Struck there is a great line––an Italian American character says to an American man; “I know what I come from.” These words ring true for me in the decades since childhood. Many times I saw Nonna kneeing at the...

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