Gugada Giel

HOW I FOUND OUT ABOUT GUGADA GIEL

Maybe the story of Gugada Giel* has been written down somewhere before. Maybe not. I, for one, never have seen it on a page. I will try to copy it down for you, though, if you will overlook, or enjoy, a certain quirk.
You see, I was born in Brooklyn, America, and I speak only English. But I heard the story about this little Italian boy from my mother's lips, and some of the words she used were in Italian. How to spell those words onto a page, I do not know! So, I will just try to write them the way they sounded. When you see an odd word here and there just imagine how it must have sounded when my mother told this story; and got me to eat my hot cereal on cold mornings with it; and got me to fall asleep on rainy evenings with it.
Maybe then you could imagine how the story sounded when my mother was a little girl hearing it from the lips of her mother. She told it all in Italian.

*The name Gugada Giel is pronounced as though it was all one word. It sounds something like "lookathewheel." My mother says it is some sort of a nickname and has no idea what it means. The very sound of it has always evoked for me, however, the texture of melted mozzarella cheese. This association has glued Gugada Giel forever, in my mind, with the pizza which figures so prominently in this story.

Translate plain English into the mother tongue using the Alta Vista translator.

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