Italy is luxury in simplicity, a set of warm emotions, mysterious charm and elegance.

Narrow streets with the breath of art, people enjoying a cup of cappuccino in a cafe, random passers-by…

Mr. Leo crossed the street and entered the small restaurant. Taking his seat by the window, he took off his overcoat and rolled up the sleeves of a light grey sweater. The waiter came in and unwittingly spilled wine on the guest’s sweater.

“Sir, give me your sweater and I’ll bring you a similar but better one”.

Mr. Leo agreed, pulled off his sweater and handed it to the boy.

Next day the boy  handed him two bags: an old sweater, perfectly laundered, and another new one. Same colour, but with amazing soft yarn.

“Sir, my grandfather has been knitting for many years, he has the best materials in the whole country”.

Mr. Leo asked the boy to order a few more sweaters. Sweaters of a mysterious grandfather from Italy served Mr. Leo faithfully. He wore them for many years and adored it.

A few years later, Mr. Leo died. The daughter of Mr. Leo kept a sweater of that very shade of grey as a keepsake from her father. And she decided to find the boy and his grandfather.

She went to Italy and met the boy in the same restaurant.

There were three people in the restaurant: the girl, boy and grandfather. The last toast was for the moon, which shone brightly in the window during that warm evening.

That evening Loonari was born…