This is a true story narrated, by the most part, from Carla’s perspective, because she was my aunt, and I’d known her all of my life. She was the eighth of the ten surviving children of my mother’s parents, and she was different. First: along with their great love and knowledge of the Catholic Faith, my grandparents bestowed a greater-than-average degree of good looks on their children… all of them, that is, except for Carla. In other families, she would probably not have stood out, but next to her siblings, you definitely noticed that her face was over-long, her nose a bit large, her hair sparse and stringy and her lips definitely too thin. Second: Carla loved to study. Now, her siblings were not slouches: they were all smart and did very well in school, but Carla’s life, her passion, was study.

I remember when I was a kid and visited my grandparents, that zia Carla was always in her study, her eyes fixed on some textbook or other, and it was difficult to tear her away from the occupation that consumed all her attention even to eat. She was no fun at all for us nephews and nieces, and we even tended to forget that she was part of the family. That is, we tended to forget studious zia Carla until… until the year when she turned 39. Of course, we all knew that zia Carla never had a date, did not care for beau’s, and you could not get her mind onto daily events because it was always on weighty matters. We used to whisper, between the proud and the embarrassed, that she was a philosopher. Horror!

So, what happened when she turned 39? I remember it vividly. It was summer, and our family had made the trek up north to spend summer vacation in Nonno’s cabin. Before heading to the little village where the cabin was, we stopped in Lecco, where Nonno’s family lived. There also, zia Carla taught philosophy at the one and only high school, which served not only Lecco, but the entire district. That’s why just about everyone in town knew her. So, as we got off the train from Rome, every family member, every friend, every acquaintance that we met in the streets was eager to tell us the extraordinary, unbelievable news: “Carla is engaged!” We kids looked at each other thinking: “Right!!!!” But there was more! Not only was Carla engaged, but her fiance’ was the youngest, most handsome professor at the high school: 28-year-old Ezio! Practically the whole town was scratching their heads: What possessed the young professor, who was breaking every student’s heart, to set his eyes on Carla? We were all mystified, but we liked the young fiance’. He liked kids, he could talk to them and make them laugh: His choice of bride was a mystery.

Fast forward a few years. They had a daughter. Carla won a professorship in, you guessed it, Moral Philosophy, at the Catholic University of Milan. He won a professorship in Ancient Christian Literature at the state University of Turin. They lived in Lecco, between the two cities, in a small apartment, and commuted three days a week during school terms. Both attended daily Mass and as we, nephews and nieces, grew older, we began to understand what (or should I say “Who”) had joined together these two unlikely souls.

We could always find zia Carla and zio Ezio at home on weekends, sitting together in their study: talking about God, helping each other with their studies and their writings. Or maybe he would be reading to her in his beautiful voice and his perfect pronunciation, while she knitted and commented here and there. They never tired of talking with each other or being with each other, they were truly united in mind, heart and soul. Then Carla, whose health was never strong, began to lose her sight, and at the “young” age of 78 decided to retire. Ezio retired soon after, to be with her. The two continued studying, writing “erudite” books, helping each other in research, in editing and in critiquing. Finally, Carla was blind. Her last book was published after her blindness made it impossible for her to read or write. But Ezio could still do both. He became her eyes, her secretary, her editor, her nurse, only leaving her side to attend daily Mass. Relatives and friends noticed that he was becoming thinner, but he scoffed: “You worry for nothing.” In August 2009 Carla died; she was 88. His task in life accomplished, Ezio finally agreed to go to the hospital for tests, and his stomach cancer was discovered. Three month later he joined his beloved spouse, he was 77. They had been married 49 years.

A former colleague of Ezio, a professor at the University of Turin, made the trip for the funeral and after Mass, she stood up and said: “Professor Gallicet had one love in his life: his Carla. After God, she was the center of his life. He did everything in relation to her, thought only of her welfare.” Of course, those of us who at first could not understand what possessed a young man to propose to an “old” spinster had realized this truth a long time before. Ezio truly loved Carla as Jesus loved His Bride. God had indeed prepared these two for each other from all eternity. They had prepared for marriage with prayer and patience (she was in no hurry), always asking God to guide their steps, their lives, their choices. God, faithful to His promises, did a splendid job…with a sense of humor. He does so delight in confounding the proud and the unbeliever! And so he did with Carla and Ezio, one of the most unlikely, but greatest love stories I ever saw.