I often recall the sacrifices and trials I endured to raise my son. Would I say I have regret? I really cannot because this is how it happened. I know that if I’d had a father, my life might have taken a different course. I probably would not have been drawn into that relationship, but then I would not have Davide. In turn, my son would not be here to await the arrival of his own child, who will be born soon. So now I have a legacy as well. And although it happened in my elder years, I eventually did find love again and married a man who is a treasure. What I know is that God makes stories. In his genius and mercy, he takes our triumphs and our failures and weaves beautiful tapestries that are full of irony. The reverse of the fabric may look messy with its tangled threads—the events of our lives—and maybe this is the side we dwell on when we doubt. But the right side of the tapestry displays a magnificent story, and this is the side that God sees.