Like a flock of lambs, we followed Don Donato into an elementary school not far from the church and just a few doors down from Bar Planet. The wall in the main hallway left no mistake that this was a parochial school.
We entered one of the classrooms, filled with youngsters about six years in age. The children looked at us curiously as we shuffled in. After explaining to them that we were visitors from America, the teacher had them stand beside their desks and demonstrate their fledging English.
In unison, they began to recite the months of the year, then days of the week. It was endearing to hear them count to ten in their sweet young voices, bending the words with strong Italian accents. For their grand finale, they sang a song about summer. We clapped appreciatively, feeling like visiting royalty.
As we walked outside to the back of the school, they crowded around the open window, jostling for a chance to wave goodbye.
As we left, I noticed a string of pictures on the hall wall, each one depicting a month of the year. It was June, of course, that reminded me, in the midst of all this frivolity, why we were here. The wedding was now only two days away.