MICHELE MENDAGLIO

 My grandfather, Michele Mendaglio, died many years ago, but like so many other wonderful people who lived in our town, he also deserves to be remembered for his integrity and his amazing kindness.

Michele was born in Capistrano around 1900. His father was Filippo Mendaglio and his mother was Concetta Lo Moro. He had three siblings: Domenico, Nicolina, and Teresa. He married another capistranese, Palma Tucci, who was known and appreciated as a strong and courageous women who was totally committed to her family.

Michele was a very religious, hard-working and very kind man. He was an amazing example toward his children and grandchildren to whom he taught love toward God and love toward their neighbour.

As a child, when I would go for confession, the priest, Don Nicolino Manfrida, would at times conclude by saying to me, " Just be like your grandfather."

I knew that my grandfather was a very good man, but I did not have a clear idea of how good he really was until my uncle told me a story that took place many years ago.

My grandfather owned a big farm located on the side and at the bottom of a valley near our town. He and my grandmother, through much hard work, transformed the land into a garden of Eden. On the farm one could find, not only olive groves and luscious vineyards, but also many fruit trees. At the bottom of the valley, near the river, they had a vegetable garden where they grew all sorts of vegetables.

It was a time of want and many people went hungry, but not the Mendaglio family. They were definitely not rich, but they always had plenty to feed their five children with. This was not the case for some other people in town who struggled to feed their large families. One of these poor people one night decided to go to my grandparents’ land and steal vegetable from their garden.

I do  not know how many times he went back to take vegetables, but my uncle told me that finally two of my uncles became very angry and one night, without telling my grandfather, they went to the vegetable garden, hid somewhere and waited patiently for the thief to arrive. The oldest uncle had a hunting rifle with him.

I do not know how long they waited but, finally, the thief appeared and started collecting vegetables and placed them in a sack. My uncles waited until the sack was full or mostly full and then they came out of hiding, pointed the rifle at the startled thief and asked him to put the vegetables down, if he cared for his life. The terrified man did so immediately and begged them not to shoot. He then, surprisingly, proceeded to beg them not to tell their father about his deed.

My uncles let the man go and then went home proud of their accomplishment and eager to share the story with their father, expecting much praise. But my grandfather did not praise them; in fact he rebuked them for what they had done and added, " Don't you understand that if the man went to steal it's because his children are hungry and that he is simply trying to feed them?" He then asked them to give him the sack .

My shocked uncles gave him the sack and watched him leave the house with it. My grandfather went to the thief's house and gave him the vegetables. My uncles were left in disbelief  by their father’s reaction. They never forgot the event.

My aunt Maria recently told me that when workers were doing government work just past his farm. Every day,  just before they would leave to go home, he would place prickly pears in the river to cool them down and then, as the workers passed by on their way home, he would open the delicious, cold fruit with his knife and would give them to them to be refreshed.

These and other stories made me understand why the priest would tell me to be like my grandfather. He was  the closest thing to a saint.

Even  many years after his death people in town who remembered him would tell me that my grandfather, "was a saint." His children and daughters in law say the same thing to this day.

My grandfather was not  a nobleman, but he had a noble heart. He was not highly educated, but he offered others that which education can never give: a very, loving heart.

My grandfather was loved by his wife and was adored by his children. I, his grandson, adore his as well. I had the honor of being  around him and of being taught by him the first ten years of my life. I treasure my memories with him but, most of all, I treasure his example.

In the early sixties my grandfather was taken away from us by cancer in his spine. He suffered much, but even in his great suffering my grandfather dealt with it all with dignity and much courage.

This was my grandfather; a very special, honest, and very kind man who must not be forgotten and who's example deserves to be followed by all.

Michele's grandson