La Famiglia (The Family)

“…Though she may forget you, I will not forget. See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me” (Isaiah 49:15-16).

They stood on the same shoreline 100 years apart. Hardly noticeable these two women were both small in stature; but big on dreams. One bound for the oldest resort on earth a short boat ride away; the other sailing to the New World on a month-long voyage. The woman in 2010 departs from Naples, accompanied by her husband, for Capri from the dock where, in 1910, a mere teenager traveled solo to meet her future mate. One is seeking to connect with her past while the other is leaving hers behind. She was a fragile, sweet, thirteen-year-old Italian immigrant in 1910 whose story time almost forgot. As of late, my questioning is bringing her back to life for she was my great-grandmother.

Returning from Italy seven weeks ago has caused a surge in my family history research. While Jon and I were traveling visions of my mother’s family danced in my imagination. Everyone knew my great-grandmother came from Italy; her broken English accent was a sure giveaway. She never spoke of what her life was like there, and I can’t ask her now. She passed away in 1987. So my ancestral excavation takes place through other living family members who share bits and pieces of her saga. Learning how my family lived and what they sacrificed has changed me. Our Italian vacation has transformed me profoundly; it’s become a spiritual journey.

It’s the little things that have affected me the most. Like discovering my great, great-grandfather traveled in a horse-drawn cart from the south of Rome to the tip of the Austrian border selling his homegrown fruits, vegetables, and assorted meats and cheeses. Many were the same routes I traversed in an air conditioned bus with plenty of amenities. It baffles me that he rode through Italy’s mountainous terrain in all kinds of weather to support his family. Eventually, he saved up enough money to travel to Argentina, Brazil and America in search of a better life for them all. These were facts my mother never knew!

Perusing the notes I’m compiling on my Italian relatives, I am overcome with emotion at times. How different my life would have been had they stayed in Italy or if they settled in Brazil or Argentina as other family members did. But God’s grace and mercy carried them safely to America where a world of unlimited possibilities awaited. Their willingness to risk everything in a new land opened the door to so many blessings for the rest of us. As I contemplate their sacrifice and hardship I feel so spoiled; so undeserving of all that I have. It’s changed my heart forever. I am complaining less about how stressful my life is and speaking forth more grateful praises.

Discovering the intricacies of those who paved the way before me has drawn me closer to them. This, too, is how my relationship with Jesus has been growing. As I unearth the treasures buried in His Holy Word, I realize the price He paid for my freedom and the privilege of eternal life I’ve been given. He washed away my filthy sins and opened the door into heaven for me. I am welcomed into His family, one whose members are as precious to me as my own flesh and blood relatives. How tragic and hopeless my life would be if I had chosen to stay in my sinful state; refusing to leave it all behind.

The beauty of belonging to God’s household is that He never forgets us. Human relationships are wonderful, but time erodes their memory. Yet God is always faithful; forever longing to spend time with us and never too busy for those who love Him. Just as the choices my ancestors made directly impacted my life for good, my prayer is that my decision to follow Jesus will bring blessing to others in my circle. Hoping to meet you at the family reunion God’s planning for His children! “…Though she may forget you, I will not forget. See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me” (Isaiah 49:15-16).

Your fellow sojourner,

Mary