I read somewhere that life is made of small insignificant happiness, like small flowers in a field. I think it’s a thought that really sticks.
So I think of Vilma and Paolo, how they appreciate and deal with the small things of life with simplicity and with a smile on their faces. I think of how carefree they are even though life throws them rocks. I think of Vilma, how lovely she is, and Paolo, of how such a funny guy he is. And they are like that… beautiful, happy and in love. And life just gave them the greatest happiness: a family of their own.