power of words to express, especially now that the moon
is shedding its magic silver over all. There are hours in the day when
everything is so filled and covered with light and when the silence is
so impressive that at moments the light seems to be gone letting the
silence blaze forth in the wonderful harmony of nature."

Enzo Valentini loved nature, loved his native land, and loved his
mother. She understood him and knew that because of his love for her
he was willing to die for Italy and the mothers of Italy. Shortly
before his death he wrote her this beautiful letter:--

"Little mother, in a very few days I am leaving for the front lines.
For your dear sake I am writing this farewell which you will read only
if I am killed. Let it be my good-by to father, to my brothers, and to
all those in the world who cared for me.

"My heart in its love and gratitude to you has always brought its
holiest thoughts to you; and now it is to you that I make known my last
wishes.

"Many have loved me. To each of them give some little thing of mine in
remembrance of me, after you have laid aside all those that you care
for most. I wish that all who have loved me should possess something
of the friend that is gone to rise like a flame above the clouds, above
the flesh, into the sun, into the very soul of the universe.

"Try, if you can, not to weep for me too much. Believe that even
though I do not come back to you, I am not dead. My body, the less
important part of me, suffers and dies; but not I myself--I, the soul,
cannot die, because I come from God and must return to God. I was made
for happiness and through suffering I must return to the everlasting
happiness. If I have been for a short time a prisoner in the body, I
am not the less eternal. My death is freedom, the beginning of the
real life, the return to the Infinite.

"Therefore do not mourn for me. If you consider the immortal beauty of
the ideals for which my soul is willingly sacrificing my body, you will
not mourn. But if your mother heart must weep, let the tears flow; a
mother's tears are forever sacred. God will take account of them; they
will be the stars of a crown.

"Be strong, little mother. From the great beyond, your son says
farewell to you, to father, to brothers, to all who have loved
him--your son, who has given his body in the fight against those who
would put out the light of the world."

So read the "little mother" of Enzo Valenti