Today, Sunday 17 May, marks the anniversary of the birth of Norma Cossetto, martyr of the foibe. The images we have of her are linked to violence, suffering, death. On her birthday, however, I remember her with the smile of someone waiting for a special day. Nothing can erase the barbarity of the abuse she suffered, yet I think of all the friends and family who enjoyed her smile in those few photos we have of her. Looking for happiness in tragedy is not wrong, just go back to the spring of '43 and think of her cycling from one town to another looking for documents for her thesis. She certainly wasn't carefree; she would have had the speaker's words in her head, she would have thought about how to structure the logical thread of the speech, how to set up the draft. This is why, faced with a certain type of end, our worries seem so useless. However, they keep our mind busy, they give us a sense of time; overcoming them gives us the measure of it. This is why on her hundredth birthday I remember her like this: with a smile that speaks of thoughts, doubts, life, so sweetly human and hidden from tragedy.

Andrea Altin, 
grandson of Istrian exiles