It had rained in Pinzolo, little after midday of Sunday 13 November. But then, the time was getting better.. We were in so much "nephews" to pay homage thankful and affectionate to this incomparable figure of woman, that has known how to give her heart to everybody,to her family and also to the ignore frequenters of the mountain, from the main exponents of the mountaineering to the less experienced "weekwnd‚s tourists. We can therefore remit her to call motherly the names of the, children,the nephews,and of the so much friends the prefix: "el me..." "la me...." (which means, my dearest...).Also the undersigned remembers touched each arrival up there at the hut, , and the inevitable embrace of the Maria: "El me Silvano." (means: my dearest Silvano)"My dear singers of the SOSAT CHOR ": they were her favorite. And they had the exclusive for the commemoration of the end of July of the fallen of the mountain.In the last years she had to listen to the songs of the chor, only through a transceiver form the hut, beeing unable to be up there. And we have imagined her listen to, by now between the scenes of heaven, but beside to the "Mr. of the tops" and to the "Mrs. of the snows," the low song of her singers, with the last homage in the church of Pinzolo. To Mamma Maria is suitable the biblical title of "strong woman": title to reserve to whoever lives with the others and for the others. Hiding her sorrows -and she really had some heavy - , forgetting her breathlessness.She was always available to urgent demands, but also to applications that could seem futile and pretentious. With never denial hurry, trying to arrive before .
Sometimes, not abdicating to sever calls.
She run the hut for over 40 years, with her husband and the children at the very beginning, then with the son Adolfo and then again with the daughter Nella.
What is very important is that although the capacity of the hut has been increased, the old stoned-cube is always awaiting us in a familiar style.
The small and unique church, digged up inside the rock, international monument to all those who died in the mountains ....became "her" church, her chapel. She used to light a small candle to every tombstone in the chapel the night before the Commemoration Mass. And from the hut you could saw the slim light coming from the chapel.
In tears she has recomposed the body of Your Grace Giuseppe Bonomini, national appointee for all the alpine chapels, unexpectedly died a few steps from the chapel.
As much she knew how to encourage, with a smile and a stroke full of hope not suitable, who on the mountain had stayed injured , happy then to ermbrace that presented itself patched. She was sometimes very disappointed for all what offended an ecology of the mountain, in front of the sheds garbage or to ill- mannered behaviour.But she knew above all how to encourage the reserved with maternal wisdom, typical of the humble and experienced people of the life. I personally do,regret her so much. Also because certain confidences of her, of pain and worry, she had delivered them in heart of a friend and priest. Up there, on those benches, behind to the shelter, to the presence of the Val Nardis , while on the distant horizon, the frozen peaks of the Care‚ Alto and of the Presanella seemed enormous , hocked to support a sky full of stars;, the good and humble Maria confided her sorrows. But, also after moments so human, the conclusion was that of a woman of big faith: "..... what God wants!"
That's why, while I am writing, I feel some tears but I am not ashamed.

Silvano Candotti