Chapter 26 Cristina - Quiet Strength Behind Our Dream
When I think back today on those early years in the Glass Pyramid, I see above all the two young people who gave our project its special energy. I see Marco. And I see Cristina. Both had only recently completed their studies. They were young. Eager to learn. Full of enthusiasm. And above all, they were not afraid to think big. That was precisely what gave our project its unique strength. I brought more than twenty years of experience in the worlds of coffee and ceramics. I knew the factories. I knew the importers. I knew the architects. I knew where the real problems lay. But Marco and Cristina possessed something that cannot be bought anywhere. A fresh perspective. To them, no limitation was self-evident. Whenever I said something would be difficult, they simply asked, “Why?” That one question often forced me to think again. Perhaps something seemed difficult only because we had always done it the same way.
Very soon, the Pyramid became much more than an office. During the day, we received customers from Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg. Italian manufacturers came to present their latest collections. Architects wanted to discover new ways to present their projects. And in the evening… a second workday often began. After the last visitors had left, we frequently continued working for hours. Marco sat behind his computer, searching for ways to make our ideas technically possible. Cristina prepared the documents, handled communication, and made sure everything was organized with care. And me? I filled page after page with sketches drawn from my practical experience. We exchanged ideas. We debated. Sometimes we disagreed. But we always shared the same goal. To build something that could truly make a difference. Our roles were different. That was precisely why we complemented one another so well. During that period, other people joined us, bringing the technical knowledge we lacked.
I still remember how important those first programmers were. We had ideas. Hundreds of ideas. But ideas alone are not enough to build software. We needed people capable of transforming our dream into lines of computer code. That was not always simple. I would explain a problem based on my experience in the ceramic world. Marco would then try to translate it into computer logic. Cristina made sure our ideas were clearly documented and communicated. Then the programmer had to understand exactly what we wanted to achieve and how it could be accomplished technically. That led to long conversations. And almost as often, a great deal of laughter. In reality, we were speaking three different languages. The language of practical experience. The language of entrepreneurship. And the language of software development. Little by little, we learned to understand one another. That was precisely when something truly special began to take shape.
Not merely a new computer program. But a tool born from the real problems people encountered in their daily work. That always remained our starting point. We did not want to develop software because computers had suddenly become fashionable. We wanted to develop it because technology could genuinely help people. An architect had to be able to design a project more quickly. A dealer had to be able to prepare a quote more easily. A customer had to be able to see a floor or bathroom before the first tile had even been ordered. That was our dream. Today, all of this seems almost self-evident. But at the time, many people looked at us in amazement. Some thought our ideas were far too ambitious. Others simply did not believe the industry would ever work that way. But that did not discourage us. Quite the opposite. It made us even more determined. We did not believe in change merely for the sake of change. We believed in improvement.
And that was what made the difference. When I think back today on those evenings in the Pyramid, I see three people sitting around a table. Not a large company. Not an army of employees. Not endless financial resources. Simply a father. A son. And a young woman. Three people convinced that the future could be built differently. That image still touches me today. Not because everything ultimately unfolded exactly as we hoped. But because it was genuine. We were not working for glory. We were not seeking recognition. We worked because we sincerely believed we could leave behind something that would help other people move forward. Perhaps that is the most beautiful memory I carried with me from those years. Not the computers. Not the software. But the enthusiasm. The enthusiasm with which each new day began. And with which, without even realizing it, we built together a dream that would prove far greater than anything we could imagine at the time.
Cristina during the Piramedia years—a dear friend of Marco and a quiet force behind our dream.
In every company, some people are noticed immediately. They are the ones who speak the most. Who stand at the forefront. Who constantly propose new ideas. But there are also people without whom a company could never truly grow. People who never seek the spotlight, but who, quietly, day after day, make sure that everything continues to function. For Piramedia, Cristina was one of those people. I still remember very clearly the first time I heard about her. I was at home, laid low by severe back pain. Marco told me about one of his fellow students, with whom he had formed a strong friendship during their studies in business and communication. He spoke about her with great respect. Not only because she was particularly capable, but above all because she was dependable. That word remained in my mind. Dependable. Later, I had the opportunity to get to know her personally.
My first impression never changed. No grand words. No need to put herself forward. Simply a calm young woman who listened carefully before she spoke. That was a quality I especially appreciated. When Marco and I decided to create Piramedia in the Glass Pyramid in Lummen, we wanted to build far more than a company. We wanted to form a team. A group of people who complemented one another. From the very first day, Cristina naturally found her place within that team. Every company needs people who can dream. But it needs just as much the people who know how to transform those dreams into reality. While Marco and I often discussed dozens of ideas at once, Cristina remained remarkably calm. She listened. She took notes. She did not ask many questions. But they were almost always the right ones. And very often, those simple questions brought us straight back to reality. “Who is going to handle this?”
Cristina was a dear friend to Marco and a calm, dependable presence within Piramedia. She did not need to be in the foreground to matter. While ideas flew rapidly around the room, she remained attentive to people and to what genuinely needed to be completed. That combination of gentleness and discipline made her presence invaluable.
After Marco’s death, she did not disappear from my life. Our bond changed, but it did not break. Over the years, I came to regard her as a daughter of the heart. I do not write that as a polite compliment. Some bonds are not determined at birth; they arise because someone stays when life becomes difficult. Cristina is one of those people.