my miracle story...

Before I was born, doctors told my mother I might come into the world with Down syndrome. With fear but also faith, she turned to the Madonna di Tindari in Sicily — the Black Madonna long known for her miracles. There she made a vow: that her child would be born healthy. Her prayer was answered, and what we didn’t yet know was that this vow would echo forward, shaping my very purpose in life.

From my earliest years, my grandmother, my Nonna, was my guide — teaching me how to cook, how to celebrate, and how to live fully. She was the reason I later began MOMENTI, my food and lifestyle brand, a reflection of the joy, nourishment, and beauty she passed down to me.

When Nonna was in a nursing home with dementia, she continued to manifest moments of teaching. She was in a severe stage, no longer speaking, and spent her days walking endlessly through the halls. One day, after a fall left her needing stitches, the paramedics worried she could never remain still enough. I held her hands, prayed, and spoke softly to her — and in that moment, something sacred passed between us.

To everyone’s surprise, Nonna slowly sat down in the chair beside me. And as she did, she looked at me and, breaking her long silence, spoke in her strong Sicilian dialect: ‘My darling, you must learn.’

Tears ran down my face as I felt both her energy and mine working together — a divine exchange. Her restless body, always moving, became calm, still, at peace. She closed her eyes, almost as if in deep surrender, and allowed the paramedics to stitch her wound with ease. When it was done, she opened her eyes. With my heart racing, I asked her: ‘Nonna… are you telling me I can help people like this?’

She gave me the strongest nod of yes I had ever seen. Then, as if nothing had happened, she stood up and began walking again.

In that moment, I knew: the gift my mother had prayed into being, the vow made to the Madonna, was awakening in me.

For three more years, Nonna continued to guide me through subtle, miraculous moments. And then — as if her spirit knew the exact time — on the very day I was meant to meet with a young woman to begin offering healing with my hands, Nonna passed away. It was the clearest sign: she had prepared me, and she knew I was ready.

What began with my mother’s prayer at the feet of the Madonna di Tindari became a living lineage — through my Nonna’s teachings, through moments of grace, and through the gift of healing that continues to move through me today.

With Love and Gratitude,

Marcella