Angelina B. was born on September 30 at 7:05pm at San Marino’s State Hospital and, just days later, has already penned her first letter: a public thank-you to the Obstetrics and Gynaecology department, where “everyone treated me like a princess.” The signature is hers; the hand behind it, in all likelihood, belongs to mum and dad.
The story begins before her debut. “I’d been told, while I was still in the tummy, that life would be a beautiful thing,” Angelina writes. With one caveat: the world doesn’t always go the way it should, “because of nasty, bad people who only think about themselves.”
Then came the proof. The first thing she “saw and experienced” was San Marino’s hospital, and the verdict came swiftly: “I have to say that, so far, I’m liking this world.”
In the letter, the credit goes to a precise address. “They helped me be born, they cuddled me, cared for me, checked on me,” the newborn lists, and her mother received the same treatment. She praises the staff for “the passion and dedication they put into their work” and, above all, “their kindness”: “I’ll never stop thanking them all.”
Institutions usually receive letters of complaint. Angelina does the opposite, and she does so in a Republic where every birth carries weight: according to the Bulletin of the National Statistics Office, 66 births were recorded in the first half of 2026, sixteen fewer than in the same period of 2025.
The closing line comes from someone who’s already got the hang of it: “Thank you and a kiss to the whole department! I love you all!” Signed: “Your Angelina B.”
