The Historic Monks’ Fountain of Orria
The women of the neighborhood gathered around me, sharing stories and moments from their lives. After a day in the fields, they often waited their turn to fill their jugs and jars, chatting and socializing.
The women of the neighborhood gathered around me, sharing stories and moments from their lives. After a day in the fields, they often waited their turn to fill their jugs and jars, chatting and socializing.
In the past, I was a pilgrimage destination for the faithful from neighboring countries, who came in large numbers to venerate the miraculous image of the Madonna. I remember how each of them walked around me twelve times, praying and singing, waiting patiently in line to enter.
We tell our story in silence. Behind closed doors lies nostalgia for times gone by, but behind every door there is often a world of emotions, a reminder of the warmth of memories that stand the test of time.