Alice Agius does not like to hang around with old people but would rather have a chat with eight-year-old Sera Bonanno.
I look forward to their visit from the moment I open my eyes in the morning
And even though the two met only four weeks ago, 83-year-old Ms Agius loves her young companion as if she was her own grandchild. The girl feels as if she has found a “new grandma”.
Young Sera is one of about 20 children who, this summer, “adopted” an elderly person at the Żejtun home for the elderly.
The bond between the elderly residents and their “adopters” is a strong one.
“I never feel like going back home when our visiting hours are over. I’d rather keep chatting with Ms Agius or read another Kunċett u Marinton story,” the young girl says.
The two spend most of their time reading indoors because Ms Agius feels like she has been “everywhere” during the past eight decades and it is now time for her to take a break and relax.
The two lean back giggling and Ms Agius squeezes the girl’s cheeks, warning her to keep laughing and avoid getting wrinkles. She hugs the young girl, exclaiming: “I have grown to love her so much”.
The idea of kids “adopting” the elderly was the brainchild of deputy mayor Joan Agius who had launched a pilot project in 2007.
Last year, some 20 children from St Thomas More College in Żejtun had initially enrolled in the project but only seven made it through six months.
Maryanne Mula was heartbroken when her adopter suddenly stopped visiting her.
“I used to wait eagerly for her, however, I soon realised I would not see her again. But this year I have been blessed with these two angels,” she says, hugging her two tiny adopters.
Red-faced, Steska Aquilina, seven, tries to hide behind Ms Mula as her classmate, Michele Portelli, who had until then been bouncing around the room, stands still and smiles shyly.
Ms Mula, 66 “and a half”, she insists, lets out a giggle.
“They’ve gone quiet now but they fill the room – and my life – with laughter.
“I come from a big family, so whenever they come over I feel like a little kid again,surrounded by my siblings,” she says.
Ms Mula adds that the kids inject her evenings with enthusiasm, which had faded away as the years rolled by.
“With their simple ways, children teach you to be generous; they’ve got a heart of gold. Our relationship is a give-and-take one: they give me company and I tell them stories of the good old days.
“And, believe me, they learn to appreciate every little thing they have. We used to make do with the little we had: I remember we had only two smart dresses – one for Christmas, and one for the village feast. I never ate a whole apple on my own and always had to share it with my siblings...” her voice trails off.
Ms Mula, a former Għargħur councillor, was an active woman until her health and sight deteriorated and she had to start using a walking-aid.
Steska and Michele often read out stories to their “adopted granny” and explain what is going on as they watch some TV programme. They also accompany her on short walks to the garden at the home in Żejtun.
“I look forward to their visit from the moment I open my eyes in the morning and they have never let me down,” she smiles.