Once upon a time there was a village woman called Ciunna, who lived at the top of the Borgo, the old town. She wore corn leaves in her hair and her parnanza, her apron, tied with vinci, thin, flexible willow twigs.
Poor thing, she had a glass eye. The villagers said she wore a pair of little boots that clattered on the cobblestones of the Borgo like roof tiles. And she had a ruined hand, covered in scars, because she had been bitten by the pig. So much for her husband, who was a shoemaker by trade.
Ciunna dressed in shabby clothes, yet when she walked along the Borgo she looked like a fairy. Sparrows flew around her and landed on the tuft of leaves in her hair, where they always found a grain or two; then they hopped down onto her chest and rummaged about, finding more grains.
And Ciunna was happy, and forgot all about the shoemaker.