“To stay quiet, to try not to have too much, and not to pretend to understand the world.”
Leonilde Lurati is born in 1922 in the village of Canobbio, near Lugano. The youngest of ten children, she grows up in a difficult time: “there was poverty,” she says. Yet the memories remain joyful: “We had many friends, I had a beautiful childhood.” The children play in the streets, are content with little, and even a simple outing to the station to watch the tram pass becomes an event. Very early, however, work is necessary. Leonilde Lurati becomes a shop assistant in Lugano, a job she loves deeply but which is short-lived. She nevertheless continues working as a general helper for the shop owner, with whom she keeps in touch until the 2020 pandemic.
It is in the streets of her village that Leonilde Lurati meets Alfredo, her future husband. They marry, work hard, and raise a family of four children. In 1952, they renovate an old barn in the heart of the village to make it their family home. Everyone takes part in the work, even the children, who help set up the vineyard and vegetable garden that Leonilde Lurati takes care of for many years. Her husband becomes the communal bailiff in Canobbio, and she also works for the municipality: she cleans the premises, accompanies children to the school dentist, and engages in village life. She keeps a painful memory of the loss of her husband in 1997, after 54 years of marriage, and of that of her youngest daughter, who dies at the age of 63.
Very involved in parish life, Leonilde Lurati takes part in eighteen pilgrimages to Lourdes, first as a pilgrim, then with the group of the sick. She also looks after the small chapel of Our Lady of Lourdes, which she decorates with flowers, a symbol of her passion. Flowers accompany her almost her entire life, until 2020, when her hands become too painful to continue: in paper, fabric, plastic or wire, she crafts them for weddings, communions, village festivals or for the celebration of the Immaculate Conception. “She saw a flower and was able to reproduce it,” her daughter says.
Her home, in the heart of the renovated village, is filled with flowers and photographs: memories of celebrations, travels and shared moments. At 101 years old, her children take turns caring for her, one week each. The house is adapted to her needs, but for Leonilde Lurati going out becomes almost impossible because of the stairs: this, as well as her severe hearing problem, keeps her away from her beloved village and from the important social relationships she maintained there. At more than 100 years old, despite the difficulties of age and the pain in her hands and knees, Leonilde Lurati lives at home autonomously and keeps her lucidity and wisdom: “For me, I have everything. I cannot do more than what I do; so everything I can still do makes me happy. With my life, I am content.”