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Sandra Zanco. The day before I met her I was writing a letter to my grandmother Yolanda, who had died years before. I needed to express my feelings with words, after years without doing so. I was in a park at Venecia, next to a small café, and I can still remember how much I cried. It was the end of summer 2013. Three Argentinian friends invited me to travel through Europe in ‘search of ourselves’. It was our last week in Italy, I had hand washed my clothes in all kind of unimaginable places, but, it was the end of a stage, so I decided for once going to a laundry. I gathered all my clothes and walked under the hot summer, upon arrival I was told the laundry ran out of electricity and they sent me to another. Extremely tired I arrived to a second laundry that resulted to be permanently closed. Someone suggested another laundry far from there. I was about to give up when a bus passed by and without thinking too much I toked it. It left me at the corner of the laundry, almost behind the park where I was writing the day before. The last laundry did worked but I didn't know how to use those machines. A woman in her seventies, with a very sweet look, noticed my desperation and taught me how to use them. I tried to speak with her in Italian and she asked me if I was Spanish, I replied that I was Mexican and her face lit up. -“My sister lives in Mexico, she moved there when we were younger, now she’d made her life there and has a beautiful thirty year old daughter”. The woman told me she had visited her sister, how much she liked Mexico and how much she missed her; but she knew she was fine and had contact with Franciscan priests; whom she actually gave Italian lessons in the Coyoacan zone. There was where I began to put the pieces together and couldn’t believe it. Coincidentally that Spring I was in touch with Franciscans of Coyoacan because a Franciscan cousin asked me to make an internal video for the congregation. I was therefore able to spend more time with them and one afternoon I met their Italian teacher…Sandra Zanco’s sister. There was no doubt; it had to be her as they are the only Franciscans in that zone of the city. We looked at each other for a moment as if she already knew what I was about to tell her. -“My cousin is Franciscan in Coyoacan and I know his Italian teacher”. She was smiling but her eyes were filled with tears. Something magical happened in that moment, it was that…’magic’. She put the dryer machine twice to stay there until my clothes were ready too and then she told me she wanted to invite me for a coffee; precisely outside was the café that one day before I had looked from the park. The café were I wished to have a chocolate cake from but did not dare to buy. Sandra reminded me a lot to my Grandmother Yolanda, we didn’t wanted to separate and it was just my last day in Venice, we made our encounter as long as we could. The main theme: The magic of life. We went back to the laundry for her bike, still with a smile in her face she said we should take a picture right there: -“We have to make sure the laundry appears in the picture, so you can show to my sister”. With tears in her eyes she told me to have a beautiful life and we hugged again. Each one took her way back but we were different, we took in our hearts a piece of the other. It was one of the most wonderful encounters in my life, it teached me that every human being can change our lives and fill us with magic. I was afraid of loneliness then, but with Sandra I realized you are never alone, because even with strangers you can feel a big love as the one you feel with your loved ones.