his headaches had grown more frequent as the doctor said they would. When the medication didn’t stop them, sleep was the only thing that seemed to help, but that meant he stayed in bed until they subsided.
At his last checkup three months ago, the doctor had brought up the operation to remove it. But Dino fought the very thought of one, even if it would make him feel better.
Now Luca was frightened, too, because the neurosurgeon told him the tumor was in a dangerous place. Removing it wasn’t without risk. But Luca knew it had to be done so his son could be relieved of pain.
His operation had been scheduled for December 21, less than a month away now. Dr. Meuller, the Swiss-born doctor from Zurich who was doing some voluntary work in Africa, would fly in to the hospital in Padova to perform the surgery. Luca had arranged his business affairs so he’d be free during that time.
Luca and his mother had done everything to reassure Dino they’d be there for him during the surgery, but whenever it was mentioned, he would run to his room and sob. He wanted his mother, and no one could replace her. It broke his heart that Dino dreaded it so much.
Something out of the ordinary had to happen to help his son. Luca wished to heaven he knew what it was...
* * *
Another Monday.
Gabi Parisi left the house in Limena and drove the four miles under an overcast sky to the office of the Start with a Wish foundation in Padova, Italy. In the fifty-six-degree temperature, she didn’t need a coat to wear over her long-sleeved blue sweater and black wool skirt.
After the weekend, Mondays meant tons of mail. So many letters came in from children needing help. Some required money for medical procedures or operations that parents or guardians couldn’t provide. Others were dying and the family or caregivers wanted to grant them their greatest wish, which was beyond their means.
Edda Romano, Gabi’s boss, was a famous philanthropist who had been giving away her money for worthy causes ever since her husband’s untimely death. Being the heiress of the Romano manufacturing fortune had allowed her to establish the foundation that would continue to give happiness to children for generations. There was no one Gabi admired more than Edda. She felt it a privilege to work for this remarkable seventy-five-year-old woman who was truly selfless.
Gabi maneuvered through the heavy traffic and drove around the back of the building to the private parking area. After touching up her lipstick, she ran a brush through tousled ash-blond hair and got out of the car. To her surprise she was met with several wolf whistles coming from some workmen doing renovations on the building to the west.
Men.
Her divorce two years ago had put her off getting involved again. She’d moved back home with her widowed mother, who still worked part-time at the hospital as a pediatric nurse.
Gabi had gotten her college degree in accounting and had worked in a bank. She’d even fallen in love and had married the bank manager, having faith in a wonderful future. But a miscarriage soon after their marriage had been devastating. And then she’d learned her husband had been having an affair.
In less than a year of being married, it was over and she’d filed for divorce. Once again she’d started looking for another job.
When the position with Edda had opened up, Gabi had grabbed at it, sensing it would be a healing kind of work. Edda’s whole purpose was to make children happy. Still mourning the baby she’d lost at five weeks, Gabi could pour out her love on other people’s children.
The foundation business filled three floors of the neoclassic building, depending on the department where you were assigned. To Gabi’s mind, she had the best position. She, along with four other women, had the exciting opportunity of opening and reading the letters. When they’d made their group decision about each child’s letter, they took it to Edda in the suite next door to make the final decisions about what to do.
Once Gabi had gone inside the rear entrance and had grabbed a cup of coffee in the open reception room, she walked upstairs to the conference room on the second floor to get started for the day. She and her coworkers sat around a big oval table. Three of them were married, one was single and Gabi was divorced.
Stefania, the woman Edda had put in charge of their group, received the mail from the mail room and passed around the new letters that came in every day. Gabi marveled that so many children needed special help and praised Edda for the service she rendered on a continual basis. Such goodness put her in the category of a saint.
“Buongiorno,” she said to Angelina and Clara, who’d already arrived. In a minute Stefania came in with Luisa, the one who still wasn’t married and had become a good friend of Gabi’s. They smiled at each other before Luisa sat down next to her. “How was your weekend?” she whispered to her friend.
“I spent it with my cousin. We did a lot of early Christmas shopping. What about you, Gabi?”
“My mother and I drove to Venice for the fun of it.” Gabi had done a little sketching.
“How wonderful!”
Pretty soon everyone had settled down. Stefania opened the mailbag and distributed a bundle to each of them. Gabi opened her envelopes and pulled out the letters. Then they each took a turn to read a letter. In the afternoon they would form a consensus of what to turn over to Edda for final consideration. All the letters came from children who were deserving of blessings.
Just before lunch Gabi picked up her last letter. Most of them had been written in cursive by an adult. This one had been printed by a youngster and there was no greeting.
“My name is Dino Berettini.” She didn’t know of another Berettini except the international Berettini plastics conglomerate near Venice. The billion-dollar business helped keep the country afloat financially.
“I am seven years old. Every night I tell God I am afraid to have an operation because my mamma died and won’t be with me. But if it will take away my headaches and make my papà happy again, I will do it. He is never happy and I love him more than anyone in the entire world.”
The words make my papà happy again swam before Gabi’s eyes. They took her back to her childhood when at the age of seven, her adored father was dying. She’d gone to the priest after Mass and begged him to ask God to make him better. The priest smiled kindly and told her she should ask God herself.
Hurt that he hadn’t said he would do it, she still went home and said her prayers, begging God to save her papà. Within two days he rallied and got better. In Gabi’s mind a miracle had happened.
Touched by the sweet, prayer-like missive from this boy, she was moved to tears.
“Gabi?”
She looked up. Everyone was staring at her, so she read them the letter.
“What else does the letter say?” Stefania asked her.
“There isn’t anything else. This child wrote what was in his heart. Obviously an adult had to address the envelope and mail it to us, but I’m convinced no one helped him with the wording.”
“I agree. Read it to us again.”
Gabi looked at Stefania. “I don’t think I can without breaking down.”
“I’ll
