“Gratitude is the first step to kindness, because the inevitable result is, despite your efforts – happiness.” ANTONIO DI DIO continues his Short History of Kindness series. This column sprung from a book of Italian poems.  

In 1997 I saw The Castle and, notwithstanding its reputation as fiction, I’m certain it was a documentary about my big, goofy, relentlessly joyful dad. 

There’s a scene in which Daryl Kerrigan asks his wife Sue: “What are these, love?” in wonderment at the marvel before him. 

“Chops.” she smiles proudly, and reminds him that they have them often.

“Yeah, but what you’ve done with them!” He is overjoyed at this wonder of the world. 

Every night of my childhood, dad would marvel at what delight mum had created. 

“Pasta”, she’d say, and could not help smiling at this silly, happy man.

“Luigi, we have it every night”. 

“Ah, but what you’ve done here – its-a beautiful!” 

He was so excited, how could we not be, too? Even on days we had no work, no money, no home, he would be filled with joy at the wonders his wife and life gave him.

Today I found in my briefcase a book of Italian poems purchased at the wonderful Lifeline markets at Fyshwick ages ago. 

Cool – it’s got an English translation for the tricky bits! Cooler – the translation is by ANU’s RF Brissenden, Michael’s dad, and Mr Page, head of English at Narrabundah. Even cooler – it’s published in Canberra, Australia! 

Arts lovers, I needed to sit down and rest, like a Bronte heroine about to get the knock back from Hugh Grant on account of he’ll get disowned by his aunt if he picks up her hanky.

But more amazing – page one features a bio of the poet, Salvatore Quasimodo. Lovely! I’m called “Antonio” for a ridiculous Sicilian reason, but my older siblings, and the oldest male cousins on one side, are all called Salvatore too, like my nonno. 

Among my first cousins are six Emanuellas, six Marias and six Giovanni-Battistas. This particular Salvatore was born in 1901 and raised in Gela, our village of illiterate Salvatores and Marias! 

He would have perhaps known mum and dad (born in the 1920s) and surely known so many of my family! Wow, now I need a lie down – this is more emotional that Mr Darcy finding out about your sister running off with Wickham!

I love literature and closeness to greatness. I love that Peter Carey, on his way to the Booker Prize, was a hippie in nearby Bellingen when I was at school, or that Kenneally’s daughter knew my mate when I was at uni. 

Well, this Quasimodo was extraordinary – in 1959 he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature! That’s right, a guy from my impoverished little town famed for olive oil, poverty and crime was a god in my pantheon and, until this afternoon, I had never heard of him. 

All those years at the Gela primary school conjugating verbs and we were taught that the coolest people from our town were some famed criminals and a guy who played on the wing for Palermo… and this was never mentioned!

Anyway, what was my first reaction? It was some dumb negative thought – how can they build statues to people who shot and killed other people and my town never even mentioned a Nobel Prize winner? 

Luckily, I put a stop to myself quickly. The genius was born in a nearby village and lived mostly in Rome and Naples, and has been feted plenty. And me – I’ve had a wonderful beautiful day out of it – not to mention some cracking fine poetry to read.

Too often in our world we are given a moment, a story, a scene, and event – and we filter it through the negative. If tomorrow morning hunger was abolished, I’m sure some of our media outlets would call it a crisis and some individuals would need a support group. 

Dad dragged us back and forth to this wonderful land and saw every day of his working awful jobs as a privilege and every meal he was given as a feast. 

Gratitude is the first step to kindness, because the inevitable result is, despite your efforts – happiness. 

If I fail to make my case for why looking at the world openly and gratefully is the greatest gift, let me add the indisputable argument of our great Australian legal mind that it’s the Vibe, it’s Mabo, it’s just… you know… the Vibe. 

Huge thanks to everyone and everything. If some misanthrope tells you the world is without hope, tell ’im he’s dreaming.

Antonio Di Dio is a local GP, medical leader and nerd. There is more of his Kindness on citynews.com.au