Once upon a time in Vallumora
Warmly written, beautifully read, made with love for the families who keep coming back.
Life lessons through storytelling
Pino and Vito jumped out of the car and ran towards Luca's farm. The tall grass glowed yellow-green under the sun, and somewhere in the distance, the bray of the donkey Berto could be heard. "Why does the donkey shout so loudly?" asked Vito, his eyes wide. Pino chuckled as Luca waved from the barn door. "Come on, I'll show you everything!" shouted Luca. But Jole stood frozen under the old fig tree, staring at the approaching goat. "Dad, what about Jole?" Pino asked.
Maja stood beneath the stars, sketching their sparkle in her notebook, while Pino wrestled with his fear. Gabriel led them deeper into the forest, where the noises grew more mysterious and unfamiliar. Suddenly, a strange sound filled the air, stopping Pino in his tracks.
In the backyard lay a broken swing, and Dundo and Pino were getting ready to fix it. Little Vito sat on the grass, holding a box of screws, while Jole sniffed around, eagerly waiting for his chance to help. "How are we going to fix this, Dad?" Pino asked, as Eva watched and smiled from the window.
When Vito was three years old, he noticed that the Moon had a hole. At least it seemed that way — every night the Moon looked smaller and smaller, as if someone was taking bites out of it. "Mama, the Moon is breaking!" he shouted one night. Mama laughed. "Those are just phases, Vito. The Moon isn't breaking." But Vito wasn't convinced. He packed glue, tape, cloth, and a flashlight into a small backpack. "I'm going to fix the Moon," he declared. His father, sitting in the living room reading the newspaper, lowered his glasses and looked at his son. Most parents would have said, "Don't be silly," or "Go to sleep." But Vito's father wasn't like most parents. "Alright," he said. "But you'll need help. I know someone who tried the same thing once." Vito looked at him with wide eyes. "Who?" "Me. When I was your age, I wanted to fix something that couldn't be fixed. Come, I'll tell you what happened..."
In the narrowest street of the old town stood a bakery that never had more than one customer a day. Every morning, an elderly woman named Maria would knead the dough, braid a perfectly shaped bun, and place it in the window where the cat Loli often slept. Then she would sit and wait. The customer was always the same—an old man with a blue hat who would arrive exactly at 7:15, leave a coin, take the bun, and leave without a word. People thought Maria was crazy. 'Why doesn't she bake more? Why doesn't she sell to others? Her buns are the best in town!' But Maria would just wave her hand and say, 'I don't bake for everyone. I bake for the one who needs it.' One morning, the old man with the blue hat didn't come. 7:15. 7:30. 8:00. The bun sat on the window, cooling. For the first time in thirty years, Maria began to cry in her bakery. Then there was a knock at the door from someone she had never seen before...
On the terrace of the family house, under the light of the setting sun, Grandpa Otto gathers his grandchildren around him. His hands, strong and skillful, have shaped thousands of wooden creations, but now they hold only a cup of tea. "I want to tell you a story about a teacher," he begins, and Pino leans forward, his eyes filled with curiosity. Hana sits quietly, while Jole lies beside the children, occasionally lifting his head as if he's following the story too.
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