The passing of dear auntie Ninette inspires reflection and tribute. Born in 1936, auntie Ninette was the eldest of nine siblings. As it happens, she had to grow up more quickly and somewhat forfeited her childhood to substitute her parents.

Auntie Ninette was a wonderful aunt, sister and person. She had her flaws, like we all do, but her family and friends could always count on her to give good advice or to provide support and comfort during tough times.

Auntie Ninette put others before herself, or at least she made them feel like she put them first. She was empathetic and selfless. She loved meeting new people, so she always sought ways to get directly involved in the local community. She taught Catechism to her hometown children and youth for many years. She was also an active member of Assoċjazzjoni Publju ta’ Malta, an organisation that promotes devotion towards St Publius.

Auntie Ninette loved music and singing. She formed part of the Floriana parish choir and of the Malta Choral Society. I have a vivid memory of her learning the notes and practising her vocals while preparing breakfast or lunch. She would keep practising at any time of the day. She took her rehearsals very seriously. Her focus and commitment were simply inspiring.

Being a person of faith, she put full trust in God and submitted her life to his will.

However, she had also found a helpful way to deal with life’s ebbs and flows through poetry.

She carefully crafted verses evoking images of her parents, her brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces, her hometown and patron saint (St Publius), her faith, religious celebrations, as well as historic events.

Antonia Chetcuti is the name given to auntie Ninette upon birth. I believe she preferred the French version of her name, and so do I.

She was devoted to St Anthony of Padoa and visited his shrine more than once. She shared St Anthony’s stories with us and let us know why he’s celebrated as a teacher and preacher.

As I reflect, I feel compelled to pay tribute to dear auntie Ninette’s legacy.

I thus end my piece of writing with the first stanza of her poem (written in Maltese) dedicated to her namesake:

Lill-qaddis tal-mirakli,

Sant’Antnin ta’ Padova.

Tassew ninsab ferħana, Antonio kbir qaddis, Li kif sirt nisranija, Tawni ismek l-għażiż.

(To St Anthony of Padoa,

The saint of miracles.

I’m so happy

St Anthony the Great

That on my baptism

I was given your name.)