Stories for Little Italians

I’m Benita, a mother of three, a secondary school teacher, and the founder of Due Baci Publishing.

I was born and raised in Australia, but Italy has always held a sacred place in my heart. I have Italian roots on both my maternal and paternal sides. My maternal grandmother was from Calabria. She and my Nonno met in Asti, Piemonte, in the north of Italy, which is where my mother and her siblings were born. My dad’s parents are from a small town in Abruzzo called Ripa Teatina, a beautiful hilltop village with a population of around 4,000 people.

Every day, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the sacrifices my grandparents made so that we could live the life we live today. I never take their courage for granted. To leave their families, their friends, their homes, everything they had ever known, and cross oceans in the hope of a better life is the ultimate act of bravery. I admire them deeply. They are my constant source of inspiration. Whenever doubt creeps in and I am faced with taking a leap of faith, I think of them. I remind myself that they would want us to live fully and richly, without “should’ve,” “would’ve,” or “could’ve.” I am grateful beyond measure for the life they made possible for us.

Italian culture lives in every aspect of my life. In the way we greet each other with due baci. In the food that gathers everyone around the table. In the language that lingers in small, ordinary moments. My roots are Italian, and although I did not grow up in Italy itself, I was raised wrapped in its traditions and its deep devotion to family.

Today, I create bilingual children’s books and resources designed to help families preserve their culture in simple, meaningful ways. Through stories, tiny language moments, and everyday rituals, I hope to support parents who want their children to know where they come from and to feel proud of it.

My roots are more than heritage. They are belonging. They are the smell of the caffettiera on the stove, the sound of animated conversations around the table, the way love is expressed through food, long embraces, and time spent together. They remind me that culture is not something we perform; it is something we live. It lives in the lullabies, the sayings passed down through generations, and the recipes we carry in our hearts.

Culture, in my life, means identity. It means connection across generations. It means ensuring that what was given to me does not stop with me. It is not about perfection or fluency; it is about presence. It is about weaving language and tradition into the everyday so our children grow up knowing exactly who they are and where they belong.

Because preserving culture does not require grand gestures. It lives in the tiny moments. And those moments matter deeply.