The Wine Cellar
by
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My name is, F_R_A_N_C_I_N_E G_I_G_L_I_A_M_O_, and tonight, I want to announce to the world that I am going to squeeze the grapes and help my father make the wine. And for supper, my mama is cooking the family pasta, fagiole (pasta with beans)...My father's name is Vincenzo (Ce Ce) and my mother's name is Rose. Well, that is what I really wanted to do, but I didn't...and we are Italian. Day dreaming was an occasional pastime of mine.
It is now 1997 and I finally decided to sit myself down and write this book. My life wasn't at all different from any other young girl, born and raised by an immigrant Italian family. This is why it is very important to me to tell my story.
I was raised with the fear of God instilled in me and brought up to respect the family and never bring attention of any negative kind to the family. Making the wine with my father was only the beginning of a long miraculous journey into womanhood. My love/hate relationship with my father dominated me, psychologically every day of my life. Only to realize that this man became my unconditional idol, as you will surely see once you examine the stages of my life.
The tragic loss of my strict religious parents eventually becomes an inspirational prophecy to all parents and siblings. Family traditions and ridiculous superstitions became an asset to me. I learned how to use them in everyday life. Unfortunately, it did take me half of my life to do so.
Every one busily shuffled to their seats, Mrs. Tracy introduced herself to the class as our fifth grade teacher. Mrs. Tracy was short, chunky, as I would put it and had strands of whiskers on her upper lip. Otherwise she looked okay.
'Good morning children,', she said with a smile, 'My name is Mrs. Tracy.' We all said good morning back to her. Everyone sat and waited for her to start the day.
'What I would like you all to do is sit quietly for a moment and soon I will be calling on some of you to introduce yourselves to me and the class. When I call on you I would like for you tell us your name and also what your father does for a living.'
'Yeah, right, you nosy bitch.', I mumbled to myself. She immediately pointed to a young boy who sat in front and keenly asked him is name and of course what Pop did for a living. I didn’t understand such questioning and sure as hell was not going to ask.
The boy stood up and said that his name was David Katz and he said that his father was a dentist. He said, 'My dad is the best dentist and we also have air conditioning.' He sat down feeling very proud and kind of sure of himself. Even more sure of himself when Mrs. Tracy told him that it was very good that his father was a dentist. She spoke beautifully to him and thanked him.
She then pointed to a tall, thin, neat looking girl and asked her to please stand and tell the class her name and of course what her father did for a living.
'My name is Laura Levine and my dad is an architect. He builds large buildings and makes a lot of money.' 'Hmmm', sighed Mrs. Tracy, 'That is wonderful, my dear. Thank you and have a seat.'
At this moment my legs started to shake, and I felt my legs were rubber. Her hand proceeded to move in slow motion. ‘Oh Shit, I’m next. What am I going to say? My dad is a gardener or should I say landscaper, and we come from a big family and we don't have that much money? I felt shy, belittled, and very frightened. While I daydreamed, she called on a boy named Kevin Quinn. Kevin was an immaculate looking boy, well dressed and sort of cute, I thought.
Kevin told us his name and said his dad was a doctor and his family had a maid. ‘Do you believe it? Bragging was so natural to these kids. Mrs. Tracy was in ecstasy. 'Thank you Kevin', she said, 'Oh by the way where does he practice?
This is going along just wonderfully, I thought, just great. Great for the rich kids they had felt like celebrities and good old Tracy was responsible for it. ‘Oh, God. She's looking in my direction. If I don't look at her maybe she won't notice me.
She then pointed to a small thin boy, with olive skin, dressed as I would say regular. He stood up and had not a worry in the world and said, 'My papa is a truck driver and he takes me for rides in his truck. And my name is Antonio Lopez.' 'Thank you, have a seat ' Tracy replied.
All of a sudden like a lightening bolt her short fat arm pointed in my direction. That's it, I’m a finished deal. She only acknowledged rich kids, she will never like me. After she pointed to me, she had to quiet the class down, after all they were all still gazing at Antonio Lopez.
'Nice to meet you young lady', she said. 'Yeah, sure, she already hates me, I know it. I felt numb and I felt I was not there. Why should I have such degraded feelings about myself and my family. I could not completely understand this. I was looking forward to school that day, but now, I hated all those show offs and especially, my teacher. She was partial.
After I picked up the pencil I dropped on the floor, I quickly stood up, feeling all disheveled and red eared, I turned to her and said my name is Francine Gigliamo and my...., my...father is a gardener. My ears were burning and my head was pounding. You could hear the quiet in the room.
I really screwed up, I made a complete fool of myself. Everyone looked at me and stood still. Maybe they actually felt sorry for me, but I never found out if they did. 'Oh, Before you take your seat Miss Gigliamo, are you Italian? Another question, she had to do that. I wanted to ask her a question...Do you shave?
Most of the kids in my fifth grade class did come from well to do families and dressed beautifully. Mrs. Tracy had derived some class from these classy rich students. She loved it and ate it all up. I would say that in today's times some of the children in my fifth grade class were considered minorities, me included. What is a minority? Where did that word come from? Francine did not feel like a person that day, it stayed with her for a very long time.
(81 pages)
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About the Book
This heartwarming inspirational memoir is the story of a young girl, Francine Gilliamo. She was born and raised in Queens, New York to Italian immigrant parents.
Her quest in life was to abide by her strict moral and religious upbringing her father demands from her. She is totally consumed with trying to do the proper things and yet inadvertently slips away from time to time into a more liberal and enchanting life. The fear of God is overwhelming to her, as she struggles very hard not to commit a sin.
Her cravings are tremendous for there is a strong appetite to become recognized as an individual and also needing the respect from others. Being of Italian descent was shameful for her as a child. This inadequacy caused her to be very shy and limited especially in the presence of her peers. Her first encounter with this bigotry was felt on her first day of fifth grade in 1954. Francine assisted her father in the making of the wine. This was the evening prior to her first day of school. Her hands were stained with purple tint. This was noticed by her schoolmates. When they asked her why her hands were of this color, she told them she made wine with her father. She was tormented and teased. They actually asked her if she used her dirty Italian feet in the process. This was only the beginning of a long painful and yet miraculous journey into life for Francine. This child was able to turn harsh situations into an asset for her. There was a constant ache inside of her soul, but it very rarely showed. Francine was torn between her strict moral father and her own free will. At times she felt she had a two sided brain. The predicaments she encounters are astounding and how she conducts herself is genuinely moving. She has expressed great honesty in this writing and most of all much sincerity. At times the reader will shed a tear and feel upset for this girl, but ironically this child's life blossoms into a reality of nothing but love, devotion and especially pride.
The death of her parents is a tragedy for Francine, but this tragedy becomes a sincere inspirational prophecy for life itself. What she was taught and how she accepted this learning eventually is applied to her adult life in the rearing of her two sons. It is done with eloquence and pride. Eventually, the Italian develops into a sense of dignity. Francine feels forgiveness for her childhood and learned that this rearing gave her encouragement and enlightenment to raise her family with grace.
Daydreaming was a common occurrence and she especially loved the memories of the Diner in Queens. Sins were forgiven there. You could confess your sins and never receive penance. The church dances were considered a ticket to heaven and the people of the church were your vehicles. Seeing her mother grow sick and old alters Francine somewhat, for she at times becomes cold and distant to her husband Michael. She fears growing old and knows she will one day be aged. Francine defies her menopause with false and ruthless analogies. Not me, I'm not in menopause! As a child there was very little time for psychological comfort. Negativity and problems were never discussed in the presence of the children. Children should be children, no need to subject them to adult problems. This in itself speaks for itself. Behave and show respect! This was the bible in her home.
The Wine Cellar is a compassionate story of a young girl who strives for peace, love, respect, not only for herself but for others as well.
About the Author
Angela Fede has been an aspiring writer most of her life. Since childhood she has shared her talent with her family and friends. At present, she feels a strong desire to tell her story to the public. This is a fictional memoir, based on true life. Being raised by Italian immigrant parents taught her the art of loving in a special unconditional manner. Her fears and needs are all bound into one gutsy, witty, sincere tale. She was always questions by her two sons 'Ma, how was it in your days?' The boys would listen with amazement and derived positive energy afterward. This story is a ripened epic of a woman who has the need to share her life with an audience who will be able to relate and understand parts of their lives with hers. Angela Fede resides on Long Island, New York, with her husband, Robert. Her two sons are now married and live nearby. Writing this book is the beginning of an inspirational crusade for Angela Fede. She wants to share her ethnic religious rearing to the world, for she feels she has benefited immensely. Her childhood taught her to survive in life, for she learned to become a positive provider not only to her family but to many as well. She especially feels the parents of the nineties can benefit by reading her book.