At an arts (and garlic) festival this fall, a woman stopped to ask me if I’d read The Shoemaker’s Wife. No I hadn’t, but I wrote down the title. Then she elaborated, telling me that she is Italian and that she especially loved the book because in it the author used the immigration story of her own ancestors from the mountains of Northern Italy to the United States as the basis for it. Well! my ancestors immigrated from the mountains of Northern Italy too! So I couldn’t wait to get the book, and when I did, I had such fun immersed in the glorious story. I even cooked polenta one night to eat while reading it. I recommend this book; one doesn’t learn a lot about shoemaking from it, but a lot about human nature and one family’s journey that represents so many others.