One year ago, the flood hit the village changing my life, and everyone else's. We commemorated the day by closing all businesses in the town from 11-6, which, as I arrived off the train, squinting into the sun and looking at mud boots, sand bags and white flowers scattered through the empty streets to honor the day, it really hit me. I headed to the old town, where everyone had gathered after the procession of the Madonna of Soviore, one of the most revered religious symbols in Liguria, was carried down from it's sanctuary over the village for a rare procession through town. Quietly looking at pictures, sitting in the Church and praying, lighting a candle for a loved one, sharing a glass of wine in the all too familiar plastic cup surrounded by uniformed volunteer workers, people observed the importance and significance of this in their own personal ways.
The loss the town felt - and still feels - was staggering. But today, in the piazza again under a tent, eating along side on paper plates as a community, I was again reminded of how far we have come, and that miracles come true.
Especially in Monterosso.