Growing up in the most beautiful part of Italy after World War Two. Being prepared for work at a tender age. Having to do things at the age of four for my baby brother was the first duty I was taught. How the jobs I had to do became constantly more and more. Even if some of them were pleasant duties, it did hinder me from playing. At the age of seven, I was led away from home to earn my living. I ended up with a strange family and had to work from five in the mornings till late at night. Working on farms with animals was a seven-day-a-week job. I didn't even get the whole Sunday to myself. The animals had to be fed and led to the fountain even on Sundays. For the rest of the day on a Sunday, I could do as I liked, except that I had to go to church in a village where I didn't know anybody. Working with animals was a nice, eventful experience that I am pleased to have had. For the Christmas and New Year's festivities, I was allowed to go home to be united with my brothers and meet my friends. I was allowed to go to school whenever the farmer permitted me to go. As no one intervened at my constant absenteeism from school, I assumed that it was normal to work instead of going to school, if the boss so decided. Once I left school, I worked on the building industry in various jobs that I didn't really like. I couldn't find an apprenticeship employment for the trade I would have liked. At fourteen, I left Italy, ended up trying my luck abroad.
