01

**FRANCESCA **

Mom arranges the collar of the shirt that was once white from the uniform. Even though it's my first day of school, at the Mingotti girls' school, one of the most prestigious in Florence, my dress is not new. Unfortunately, Mom could not afford to buy a new one for me, since she had to spend on school supplies that were not little and much less cheap.

Because she is a literature teacher at this renowned school, I got a full scholarship, now the other expenses we could not escape and she had to pay.

Since my academic life began, I have been to at least ten different schools, all attended by people of a higher social class than ours.

All because my mother is a solo mother, young and beautiful.

She can't spend much time in the same institution, because after a brief time of service is to be asked to ask for the bills so as not to "tarnish" her impeccable resume.

Yes, my mother is an excellent teacher.

She is very dear to the principals and other teachers due to her professionalism, but either the fathers give in on her, or the mothers are jealous because they feel threatened by her presence.

Professor Rosa, or Mom, for me, bravely gave birth to my person when I was only sixteen, which was a scandal at the time. My grandfather, who worked overtime on Earth, kicked her out of the house when he found out about the pregnancy. My grandmother, may God have her, wanted to protect her, but she was submissive and never went against her husband, even if it meant staying away from her beloved and only daughter.

My mother says she still went after my father, a peasant who ignored her and managed to disappear into the world.

But I think it's already clear what happened, right?

He abandoned her to her fate as soon as he knew she was carrying me in her womb. It was then that my mother found herself helpless and pregnant. With nowhere to go, she found shelter in a convent that was part of the parish where my grandmother attended and was friends with the parish priest. There, she was welcomed and was able to prepare herself to be the professional she is today.

She majored in pedagogy and specialized in literature, loving the works of William Shakespeare.

It was thanks to the kindness of the sisters that my mother got her first job as a teacher after I turned three.

I got to know my grandmother who came to see us and bring some things to help us.

All hidden from my grandfather, who couldn't even dream of it, or my grandmother would be punished.

As soon as I turned eight, my beloved grandmother left us and went on to her eternal rest.

Unfortunately, we had to say goodbye from afar, because my grandfather prevented our presence at their house, where the funeral and the last tributes were made. She was much loved by everyone in the community where she lived her whole life, so the place was full during the ceremony.

A year later, my grandfather was gone and even though he was very cruel to my mother, she went to say goodbye to the man she loved despite everything.

My mother has a huge heart and carries no hurt, even with the marks she has on her soul. She is very religious and says that Jesus taught us to always turn the other cheek, as well as to always love our neighbor.

We went to our first one at school and as I have always been bullied for being poor and not having a father, I prefer to arrive at school without the presence of my mother.

I say goodbye to her still a block away from the entrance to the huge building and its gardens, even though she asks to accompany me at least to the gate.

I notice that she is upset, I even see that her eyes fill with tears, but I don't want to give them any more reasons to talk about me.

Don't get me wrong, I love my mother, she is my life example, but in all the schools I went through I suffered too much because of my origin and I do not intend to go through this anytime soon. I need at least a few days of reassurance before they find out I'm there because I'm the teacher's daughter.

It will be the first time I study in an all-girls school and I hope they will be kinder to me. At least here I won't be a "threat," as I've heard in the last two schools I've attended from some girls.

I don't consider myself pretty, but I know that I draw attention wherever I go, even my mother has already guided me about life and how babies are made.

I turned fifteen last month, I have long straight black hair, as well as my eyes. I'm thin, tall and my body is still in formation, so much so that I started menstruating not too long ago and my breasts only pointed out in the last year.

I leave my mother behind and squeeze my steps, scared to death of what awaits me.

I arrive at the gate and make the sign of the Cross.

"Whatever God wills."

As soon as I enter, I pass by the little groups of girls and I realize that they all turn towards me, some giggle, others grimace. I don't know if it's because of my clothes or because I'm an unfamiliar face.

I head straight to the boardroom, where I must pick up my schedule, class, and room. As soon as I approach the secretary's office, Mrs. Ruth, the headmistress, sees me and smiles.

"Girl Francesca, where's your mother?" Soon the class starts and we need to get together before that.

I feel my face burn as I look sideways and say embarrassed:

“She's already coming, I came ahead to find out about my class and locate me.”

“Oh, yes. Come, accompany me.”

I follow the headmistress into her office and she asks me to sit in the chair in front of her.

“Well, your mother must have already told you about the rules of the school, but it never hurts to stress, right? Take the rules here.”

Drag a paper on the table, leaving it in front of me.

“Remember, no boys here, you know that the boys' school is on the other side of the wall, but contact between you is not allowed on the perimeter of this school, except in championships and some religious dates, since we belong to the same parish. Understood?”

“Yes, understood.

“Now here's your class schedule. I'm going to ask you to call a student to show you the school premises.”

The headmistress presses a button on the phone next to her and on speakerphone asks her secretary to call the ninth-grade classroom monitor.

It doesn't take long and we hear knocks at the door. The headmistress asks the person to come in and a girl a little smaller than me, blonde, with long, curly hair, green eyes and freckles is next to me.

"Did you send for me, Headmistress Ruth?"

"Yes, Giovanna, that's Francesca, she's new to school and she's in your class. Could you please show her the main school premises?”

“Sure.

I look at the girl who gives me a smile that seems to be sincere, something I'm not used to getting.

I get up and after we say goodbye to the headmistress and we head down the hallway.

“Hello, I'm Giovanna, the room monitor. Any questions can call me and that you feel welcomed.”

“Thanks, Giovanna. I hope it's a good day here.”

I give a yellow smile.

“As far as I'm concerned, it will be.”

At the time, we didn't know it, but it was the first step in building a great and sincere friendship.