<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329</id><updated>2009-03-01T04:59:39.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dialogue angle</title><subtitle type='html'>THE DEVOUT MARGHERITA ANTONIAZZI 
Costageminiana (Bardi-Parma-Italy)

9th March 1502       21st May 1565

Contemplative, and devoted to good deeds, she dedicated her life and her good works, to the glorification of God, and, to the service of the poor and the humble.

“ Venerated by the common people as a saint, who attributated to her miracles and favours granted, she was sought after by the mighty as an advisor, and she left behind her a fragrance of heroic sainthood”</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-1124532073687355022</id><published>2009-03-01T04:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T04:59:39.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>P</title><content type='html'>K&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-1124532073687355022?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/1124532073687355022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=1124532073687355022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/1124532073687355022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/1124532073687355022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2009/03/p.html' title='P'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-1738471676353145982</id><published>2008-05-30T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T09:57:03.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Once upon a time</title><content type='html'>Well then, I refer to the begining of the fifties, teachers couldn’t afford the luxury of a car, but when the person in charge of assigning places in schools arrived at my name, and even though the post assigned to me was in one of the most far away places in the lower reaches of the Apennine Mountain in the county of Parma, I remembered the words of my father, and I immediately accepted the post.  My mother wanted to accompany me to see the place “where I was to end up” and so a few days before the begining of the school year, we decided to leave.  After a long journey from Parma by bus, to get to the Council Town Bardi, we found ourselves sitting on a mule which took a small dirt track that would take us to my posting.  I can’t explain how much I trembled on that mule, who slowly but surely, trotted on the edge of the dirt track which hung over the River Ceno’s Valley.  Afterwards the mule’s owner explained to me that it was a habit of mules to stay on the edge of roads and that I should stay calm!! Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-1738471676353145982?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/1738471676353145982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=1738471676353145982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/1738471676353145982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/1738471676353145982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2008/05/once-upon-time.html' title='Once upon a time'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-6203482075636026354</id><published>2008-04-24T09:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T10:00:04.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ONCE UPON A TIME</title><content type='html'>I had just received my diploma, a girl of 18 years old, when my father said to me with decision and authority: “Now you have your diploma you must get stuck in and find a job as a teacher and you will go wherever they send you!!!  You know what hard work I had to do to send you to school, now I have to do the same for the others.”  He wanted to say without any qualms “You had the benefits, your  the eldest of  4 children, therefore you have to colaborate with me in sending the other 3 children to school”.  Poor father, he received a small monthly salary, our mother did what she could to feed us every day because it was war-time and food, including bread was rationed,  and he was a proud man and wanted us all to get a good education and guess what he succeeded!  After the last diploma was acquired he breathed a sigh of relief.  Ah finally I can die in peace!.  Thank you Dad, with your sacrifice I had in this life wonderful experiences (to be continued in the next issue as it is my intention to go deeper into this arguement and explain what happened to me when I obeyed my father by going to “wherever they send you”).  Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-6203482075636026354?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/6203482075636026354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=6203482075636026354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/6203482075636026354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/6203482075636026354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2008/04/once-upon-time.html' title='ONCE UPON A TIME'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-791679838924048617</id><published>2008-04-24T09:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T09:58:48.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>COMPASSION</title><content type='html'>One evening , during the stay in hospital of my gravely sick mother, after a long day of assisting and caring for her, I went home tired and exhausted.  I had stayed a little longer with my mother that evening  and I had just managed to catch the last bus at 11pm.  I was alone on the bus, but after a few stops two young men got on: they came upto me and asked for my purse.  With courtesy I refused to give it to them. So then they insulted me and threatened to hit me if I screamed for help.  In my mind I called out for the help of my Custodian Angel and very calmly told them of the pain I was suffering because my mother was about to leave me and this life and asked them if they had a mother...  They didn’t answer but very slowly they went away; they had participated with passion in my suffering and became good.   Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-791679838924048617?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/791679838924048617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=791679838924048617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/791679838924048617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/791679838924048617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2008/04/compassion.html' title='COMPASSION'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-1743018748946954854</id><published>2008-03-21T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T11:00:14.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Act of Providence</title><content type='html'>I’d like to tell you about an experience I had that made me reflect and left lots of joy in my heart.  One evening I had strong chestpains: I was taken urgently to hospital, had a big scare but it was nothing serious.  After a few days in hospital an acquaintance and neighbouring hospital bed patient came to visit me.  She sat down on my bed and started to talk about her painful life and her poor sick heart.  Her words and tears flowed out like a stream; that evening she wanted to expel and free herself of all her pain.  In the end with a sigh she said: ”I feel better now, and finally I can fall asleep...”  She sat sat on her own bed at peace, then looking at me sweetly she said: “I would be pleased to offer you  a coffee but...”  She turned her head and started her voyage in the land of dreams free and happy... A doubt arose in my mind... “That my bad turn was only an excuse to support without knowing it a mysterious act of Providence?”  Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-1743018748946954854?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/1743018748946954854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=1743018748946954854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/1743018748946954854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/1743018748946954854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2008/03/act-of-providence.html' title='An Act of Providence'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-1284789947369033591</id><published>2008-03-21T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T10:59:21.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Providence</title><content type='html'>We all generally know of if  when used in the form “Divine Providence” but it could also be used to mean a mysterious and favourable occurrance or coincidence in occasion of giving help and support to others during our daily lives.  It is something that is in our sub-conscious and makes us do things for the good of others, or things to help others who are in a precarious situation.  For example does it ever occur to you that a moment after thinking about someone the telephone or door bell rings, and it is just that person you were thinking of in need of your help?  We can say that man possess a surprising potential which favours living together in the human world, and which we should coltivate and learn about more.  Meanwhile, it would be enough just to stay calm and listen within oneself and to who speaks to our hearts. Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-1284789947369033591?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/1284789947369033591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=1284789947369033591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/1284789947369033591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/1284789947369033591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2008/03/providence.html' title='Providence'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-763896537639229368</id><published>2008-02-08T10:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T10:12:28.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Nativity Scene and the Little Girl</title><content type='html'>Have you ever watched a child whilst they looked upon the Nativity Scene? I have a six year old grandaughter and on Christmas Day, trying not to be noticed , I observed her whilst she looked at the Nativity Scene.  She was calm and ready to expreme all that she had in her heart and I took all this in.  Straight away she gave a general look at the whole scene, then she concentrated her attention on the stable and with her finger she touched Mary’s head, and said smiling: “There you are, you have arrived, and He is already born: Are you happy now? And you Joseph, go on and get some wood for the fire, otherwise it will go out...” All of a sudden the atmosphere change, her tone of voice became emotional and beseeching “...Shelter me, shelter me, give me hospitality, please I beg you, I’m so tired...Help me...”.  She had picked up a hen and she moved it around, desperately trying to find a safe refuge for it to rest in.  The drama of the human events of Joseph and Mary refused in a moment of need, for the love of a little girl, was transferred in that little world  making her participate in and aware of their problems. In this way children are often “teachers of  life” for us adults.  Baby Jesus protect all the World’s Children!!  Mimma   (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-763896537639229368?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/763896537639229368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=763896537639229368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/763896537639229368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/763896537639229368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2008/02/nativity-scene-and-little-girl.html' title='The Nativity Scene and the Little Girl'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-4345300134366896270</id><published>2008-01-29T23:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T23:56:59.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FRIENDSHIP</title><content type='html'>There is an old saying:”who finds a friend finds a treasure”.  If during a lifetime you  find some friends, but with the passing of time occasionally you discover that they are almost never the much desired “treasure”.  I think I am able to say that friendship is more than a simple affectionate tie between blood relations.  Friendship is the strongest form of Brotherhood: a friend never leaves you alone, he is deeply rooted inside of you because he finds in you something similar to his own nature and this makes him happy because he knows he can rely on you for anything, in any moment of his life.  Once I was deeply touched the first time, when at the end of the Focolari Movement’s convention the participants hugged each other saying: “I’m ready to give my life for you”.  It seems absurd to say such a phrase, but if someone says this why not believe it?  Most certainly he found in him a true friend!  I wish you all a happy start to the new year and I remind you of the Friend-Treasure that 2000 years ago offered his life for all Humanity.  Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-4345300134366896270?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/4345300134366896270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=4345300134366896270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/4345300134366896270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/4345300134366896270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2008/01/friendship.html' title='FRIENDSHIP'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-7700379354590034324</id><published>2008-01-11T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T00:01:18.205-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joy</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago we made some reflections upon the old man and the new man.  Wherefore the new man is the young man, who won over the old man because he renwed and  purified himself: he  is the man who has an inner joy.  He has a very strong reality, is courageous, and doesn’t fear neither man or suffering: he is above all of  this, of every pain because in their place he puts compassion and forgiveness.  So you could say that joy isn’t something but  Someone; joy is someone at peace with themselves and others and comunicates the force with which they do lovely and good things at all ages.  So we often see old suffering people who are young because they are joyful and young people who are old because they haven’t got joy in their hearts.  Even Jesus on the Cross, in spite of his suffering and martyrdom, had joy in his heart because he said to thief: “Today you will enter heaven with me”.  We wish everyone will have lots of joy in their hearts. Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-7700379354590034324?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/7700379354590034324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=7700379354590034324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/7700379354590034324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/7700379354590034324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2008/01/joy.html' title='Joy'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-1734529574542398002</id><published>2008-01-10T23:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T00:00:36.498-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Miracle of...life</title><content type='html'>Last week some young women came to Caberra to pray in the Church of the Annunciation.   We evoked the story of the “Devota” together, then their attention went upon the Thanksgiving Medals (for miracles received) hanging on the wall  in the St John’s Chapel.  Once there were many more of them; but with the passing of  the centuries they have gone missing.  Margherita left a sign of her goodness, of her unconditional love, and of her compassion.  The essence of the Thanksgiving Medals is the recognition of a gift received, a reminder of the mysterious way  a prayer recited in solitude and desperation is heard and gathered up by God.  Who donates a Thanksgiving Medal has received a miracle or has been graced by God in the intent and in the facts.  One of our young visitors is expecting a baby; she asked for the miracle that perpetuates in time from when the World was Created: the miracle of life.  Our most joyful regards to all expectant mothers and we thank them for being faithful collaborators of God in keeping safe the gift of life.  Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-1734529574542398002?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/1734529574542398002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=1734529574542398002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/1734529574542398002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/1734529574542398002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2008/01/miracle-oflife.html' title='The Miracle of...life'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-5639099407842091676</id><published>2008-01-10T23:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T00:02:02.616-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Waiting</title><content type='html'>We are living the days waiting for Christmas. It should be a peaceful and joyful waiting with a look within ours souls and towards heaven. But instead, if we go to a big shopping centre we come out feeling dazed and confused...in them you remain shocked by a huge mass of people who continue to fill shopping baskets and trolleys with anything that glitters. Then at home we realise that a lot of the things we bought are useless and clutters up our homes. So where is the poverty that we all hear about? Roberto Benigni preaching The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri, becomes topical because he blends in with the audience, especially with those who suffer, and he evokes sensations, eternal values and gives a message of honesty and wisdom which touches you deeply. The most urgent need to deal with is our spiritual need not the material need: the need which doesn’t make you see the hungry, or the homeless and who experiments with Dante:...”come sa di sale lo pane altrui e come è duro calle lo scendere e salir per l’altrui scale” (roughly translated means “How good tasting is the bread of others and how hard it is to go up and down the stairs for others.” ) Best Wishes for Christmas to all foreigners. Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-5639099407842091676?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/5639099407842091676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=5639099407842091676' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/5639099407842091676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/5639099407842091676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2008/01/waiting.html' title='The Waiting'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-2230715386857020909</id><published>2007-12-17T00:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T00:12:12.552-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Every New Day…</title><content type='html'>A few years ago I met a hunter, who had attached to his belt, upon a considerable stomach, a lovely row of small birds.  One next to the other, hanging upside down by their little claws, their heads swaying, their beaks open and their little black eyes glasslike without life.- Look, aren’t they lovely?-the Hunter said to me- It was true: they made a colourful garland on a dark background, with their small red, yellow and white patches of colour: a martyrdom of sparrows and robin red breasts!- And tonight- the Hunter continued amused – Come, come along ... their will be ‘Polenta’ and roast birds for supper- He pointed out the happy conclusion of his day!  I remember a few verses of a poem by Bonhoeffer: “Every new day there is a new begining in our lives, every day is all tied up and finished!! I salute you affectionately. Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-2230715386857020909?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/2230715386857020909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=2230715386857020909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/2230715386857020909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/2230715386857020909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2007/12/every-new-day.html' title='Every New Day…'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-4843040261999401139</id><published>2007-12-04T10:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T00:14:00.262-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Humilty</title><content type='html'>To better ourselves, in whatever stage in our lives (obviously as adults) I feel that it is necessary to take a break and examine the progress of us becoming Real Women or Real Men. The Old Man and the New Man figures are always present within us. The New Man is or always should be in constant conflict with the inner Old Man to discover who we really are. Actually, it is essential to look within oneself and listen to oneself to be able to figure out the good or bad sides of our character, and make the New Man within us emerge, renewed and clean. But this transformation is only possible when I free myself from my pride and practice with patients Humility. Because only by using Humility lightened up by Grace can you arrive at the Truth. Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-4843040261999401139?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/4843040261999401139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=4843040261999401139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/4843040261999401139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/4843040261999401139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2007/12/humilty.html' title='Humilty'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-8201317864426382542</id><published>2007-11-25T23:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T23:51:53.639-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty will save the world</title><content type='html'>...and we all want to this to be true, but do we collaborate so that this will happen? If we want this great event to be realized, I think that all of us need to do their part. The world is not simply a “globe” within which there is a mass of agitated people. The world is each one of us with their own interior beauty, for this reason, young or old that we are, we need to dip into this beauty which has as a base love and spread it to everyone so that this joy can be celebrated with children, the sick, the poor, friends, relatives, neighbours and strangers...It is the Beauty of God and the splendor of the whole creation that will save the world. Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-8201317864426382542?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/8201317864426382542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=8201317864426382542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/8201317864426382542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/8201317864426382542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2007/11/beauty-will-save-world.html' title='Beauty will save the world'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-8590540215825937150</id><published>2007-11-15T05:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T05:02:25.943-08:00</updated><title type='text'>REMEMBRANCE OF THE DECEASED</title><content type='html'>In the month of November we all feel motivated  to go to the cemetery to honour our dead. Everybody goes, or almost, those that practice our faith and those that don’t. Huge plant pots filled with chrysanthemums and other flowers emerge from the white tomb stone. One has the impression that there is a competition for who puts the biggest plant of flowers... It true, that in the end the cemetery looks like a garden! Pity that only a week ago that same cemetery looked rather sad with those faded, scentless fake flowers! I imagine the souls of our dead watching the scene in silence and full of  love in eternity, with their mysterious wisdom they fix their eyes filled with light in ours filled with tears. Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-8590540215825937150?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/8590540215825937150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=8590540215825937150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/8590540215825937150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/8590540215825937150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2007/11/remembrance-of-deceased.html' title='REMEMBRANCE OF THE DECEASED'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-7434793615293239427</id><published>2007-11-07T23:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T00:10:42.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tenderness of God</title><content type='html'>Tenderness is one of the most beautiful emotions that anyone in the world could ever hope for. If you watch a child cry, a lamb bleat, a defenceless old man thet looks upon you with tenderness you can't help but be moved and can't help but fell the desire to caress, comfort and give, to make them feel, alive, your unconditional love? And if you do these things you can't help but feel repaid by a deep joy and peace never found before? Even though, being very imperfect people, we are able to give tenderness to others, how much more God is able to give each of us for having loved our neighbours like ourselves! Well, there are instants in life when you truely realize the tenderness of God upon you. If you are innocent like a child and Keep an intorior listening attitude, you will feel an endless tenderness deep in your heart which makes you say: Thankyou...Thankyou...And then you rejoice for this gift of love, for this state of grace that you hope will continue forever. Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-7434793615293239427?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/7434793615293239427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=7434793615293239427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/7434793615293239427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/7434793615293239427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2007/11/tenderness-of-god.html' title='The Tenderness of God'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901718821296876329.post-7380061599019421068</id><published>2007-10-29T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T00:12:05.307-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Spirit of God</title><content type='html'>If you are at peace with yourself and Nature, you discover things, situations, secrets that you never thought you would discover. It’s the Spirit of God that enters you and lights up what once was dark. It’s as if God was to tell you: “If you are calm, serene and at peace with yourself, in spite of the bad moods of our times, I will give you something that you could not have in any other way, the enjoyment of a great happiness. It was at this time, as I roamed alone in this peace of mind, that I saw the beauty of the places in which Margherita once lived and tasted the charm of where she came from. Mimma (translate by Diliana)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7901718821296876329-7380061599019421068?l=dialogueangle.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/feeds/7380061599019421068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7901718821296876329&amp;postID=7380061599019421068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/7380061599019421068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7901718821296876329/posts/default/7380061599019421068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dialogueangle.blogspot.com/2007/10/prova.html' title='The Spirit of God'/><author><name>mauro</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07897322979834527418'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>