missing a few hours to close of polling. Right now I feel I share with you what he sent me a dear friend and that bring to mind intensity of the importance of these two days, beyond the results we all seek with bated breath.
" There are people who died to give us the right to vote. I, too, when it became known that we would go to the elections, I decided that I would not have voted. Then, however, always prevails the idea that voting is a right, earned a high price for many, including, for many, even people that are very dear to us. My grandmother, for example, and laborer involved in labor struggles during the Fascist period, many nights spent in the cell's command of the police officers, many nights spent even by my grandfather, because when she crossed her arms in the camps, went to take him (not adhered to the strike) and did spend a few days in jail because of his wife's battles. On the fountain in the country hung in Galazzi Seventh injunction not to go to fetch water (which she certainly did not have the faucet in the house) from the public fountain (Obviously a fountain fascist). That grandmother always told me that although he had married and had two children (and much loved, I can testify), the best day of his life was when he went to vote for the first time in 1946 for the republic, the second best day was when I went to the polls for parliamentary elections in 1948. They were sleepless nights, those finally happy nights.
is why, when it comes to vote, I always end up going there, not without a certain emotion.
And I want to vote because my vote is "useful" to govern . "
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