Elena was much disappointed. She had prayed hard, and felt that a cake should have been sent to Giuseppa. Then suddenly she stopped short in the street. ‘Why,’ she said, ‘perhaps God hasn’t got a ciambella, and I have!’
She went home thoughtfully and opened the drawer and looked a long time at her ciambella. Then she ate her dinner of boiled chicken, and artichokes fried in batter. After dinner Elena took the cake lovingly in her arms and carried it into the street. It was the last time it would be on parade. She passed the groups of children, all munching ciambella, and made her way to Giuseppa’s hut. Giuseppa was outside, feeding the baby from a bowl of bread and milk.
‘Happy Easter!’ cried Elena.
‘Happy Easter!’ replied Giuseppa, her eyes fixed on the cake.
‘I brought my ciambella to eat with you,’ said Elena cautiously, ‘and you may hold it, and, oh, Giuseppa, you may have the egg!’
Giuseppa grew scarlet. ‘I never saw such a beauty,’ she said, ‘and what feathers!’
‘I stuck them into the dough myself;’ said Elena, ‘that is why there are so many.’
‘Do you know,’ said Giuseppa shyly, ‘I prayed for a ciambella.’
‘And you got it!’ cried Elena triumphantly.