There is but one road leading to the isolated town, our summer village. A place little touched by time, by technology’s progress, or by the frenetic pace of getting ahead. Thirteen years had passed since our last visit. And though fewer and older, the inhabitants somehow seem to remain much the same.
Many of old and wrinkled pass on, while the rest continue aging. Changed, yet always seeming the same. With the same lines of suffering and hardship. The same bleak look of hopelessness. A hopelessness one doesn’t expect to find in 21st century Italy or Europe.
Beyond forgotten?
Time passes slowly here. They while the day away in simple tasks. A bowl of pasta. A little weeding in the garden. A chat with neighbors. But mostly they just sit and wait. For what, even they don’t seem to know.
It’s gradually dying off, slowly becoming a ghost town. And there, at the top of the hill sits Hubby’s ancestral home, our summer home. God’s gift that we use for outreach. We go, and we keep going, out of love for this abandoned people, in such an abandoned area.
- Only one road goes in because the other has never been repaired after the landslide over a decade ago.
- There is almost no work — NO WORK in giant letters.
- And agriculture, their traditional livelihood, has been greatly hindered because of insane natural park laws.
- They have only one doctor for the 500-600 people.
- The nearest hospital is 45 minutes away, down the steep and winding mountain road.
- Few shops, and only the tiniest of grocery stores.
- There is one tiny Bible-believing church in our town, and only a handful of others scattered through the area.
- And for the most part they feel abandoned, hopeless, and beyond forgotten.
But not beyond hope
We go because we love it there and to offer hope. To show them that they are neither forgotten nor abandoned. That there are others who think of them. And we go to offer friendship, encouragement, and the hope that things can change. But we go mostly to tell them that God will never forget them, and to show the great love he has for them.
We go because the almost haunting beauty of the place has captured our hearts. But the people have totally claimed them!
Update: Since publication, the other road (of the only 2) going to the village has been partially repaired and reopened. But the last stretch, from the nearest town, still needs repair. We drive on it, but it is clearly marked proceed at your own risk. Obviously, the village remains sadly forgotten.
Images ©SignoraSheila / SignorMario.
Signora Sheila 
Such a moving post about forgotten people— remembered by you. God bless you.
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For a moment I was reminded of a community in the Mitford series by Jan Karon.
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I had never heard of the Mitford series, Cynthia. So I Googled it, and it looks great! I’m going to check the books out. I can see where there could definitely be some resemblance.
From the brief peek I took on Amazon, it reminded me of one of my favorite series, the Miss Read books. Delightful tales of an unmarried English school teacher in a small village school, mostly recounting village and country life of the 1950s and 1960s. I think you’d like them.
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I will have to check them out! Thanks, Sheila.
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Thanks Cynthia. Our hearts are irrevocably tied to the place and to the people. Our prayer is that through us it would invade other hearts too and that they would keep it prayer! God has not forgotten it, and never will!
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It was good to see your name again. I’m hoping to return to my blog soon. Mom has needed much care with the dimintia. Thanks for following.
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I hope you can return to your blog again soon. It would be great! But I understand. Dementia is hard. I will keep you in my prayers.
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My Moms home with her Lord now. It’s where she wanted to be for many years. Thanks for your encouraging words. I do hope to return soon.
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My condolences for your loss. Parting is always hard, but I rejoice with you that she is Home where she longed to be. My prayers will be with you, and I do look forward to seeing you more on here!
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Thank you for your prayers and encouraging words. I’m so thankful for the brothers and sisters in Christ. You all have been an important part of this journey. God bless you.
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Sheila, You are both reflecting the love of Jesus when you visit these precious people. Thank you for your heart of service. May the Lord give you His perfect wisdom as you minister to this village. Karen
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Thanks, Karen. That is our prayer. That they may see the love of Jesus. The Lord is definitely at work, and little by little we see this more and more. But we do need his wisdom.
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Sounds like my village of Tret, although we only have fewer than 200 residents. On the good side, I have been a senior advocate there for 15 years.
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That is tiny, Allen! Forgive my ignorance, but what exactly is a senior advocate and what do you do? I’ve never heard that term before.
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I work to protect the rights and well being of seniors, help provided medical advice and assure they are not taken advantage of my local government authorities.
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Great! That is so needed. How did you get involved in that?
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I am an attorney and I speak fluent Italian and German and both local dialects – Nonese and Tirolean (we are on the border between Trento and Bolzano provinces.) I served as porta voce for our village as we are one of three frazioni of Fondo, I have also held office here in the U.S. so I know how to work with government people in getting things done. Above all, I just like to help when needed.
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Wonderful, Allen! I think every area of Italy could use someone like you. Keep up the good work!!
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Grazie!
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Showing hospitality, in your home could go a long way, accompanied by much prayer.
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Thanks, Ruth! Yes that is something we do when we are down there, and it helps a lot. We also call on people, and as many of them are elderly and lonely they really appreciate it. Thanks for the reminder to do it more, and for your prayers!
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