When the Factories Placed Their Trust in Me
During those early years, I worked tirelessly to prove what I was worth. I knew that trust is not built with fine words. It is built by keeping one's promises, day after day. Little by little, the results became visible. The customers were not the only ones who were satisfied. The Italian factories also began noticing that their ceramic collections were increasingly appreciated in the Benelux. That gave me a profound sense of responsibility.
I was not merely representing a collection of ceramic tiles. I was also representing the name of men and women who had built their companies, often over several generations, with passion, sacrifice, and love. That awareness kept me humble. When I arrived in Italy, I never felt like an outsider. I was welcomed as though I belonged to the family. I had not earned that privilege through impressive speeches. I had earned it by keeping my word, year after year.
I remember being invited into the product development department during one factory visit. Normally, very few outsiders were given access to that part of the company. That was where new collections were born. There were test tiles. New glazes. Colors that had not yet been released. At one point, someone asked me:
"Renato, what would your customers think of this?"
For me, that was a very special moment. Not because my opinion was more important than someone else's, but because they genuinely wanted to know what was happening in Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg. At that moment, I no longer felt like merely a salesperson. I felt that I had truly become a bridge between two worlds. More and more often, I was granted the privilege of seeing new collections before they were presented to the outside world.
Sometimes I was even asked for my opinion. About a different size. A new color. Another way of presenting the products. Of course, not all my suggestions were implemented. That was not necessary. The simple fact that my ideas were heard made me feel that we were building something together. My relationships with the importers also became increasingly close.
They knew I was not the kind of representative who came only to take an order and then disappear. Whenever a problem arose, I never stood on the sidelines. I worked with them to find a solution. Sometimes that meant an extra trip to Italy. At other times, a long telephone conversation. Or hours spent working, thinking, and searching together. I have never believed that problems disappear on their own. We must have the courage to face them.
It is precisely in difficult moments that we truly come to know people. And that is often where the strongest relationships are born. Year after year, my network continued to grow. Italian manufacturers introduced me to their colleagues. One factory invited me to another. Not because I asked, but because trust slowly passes from one person to the next.
To me, that was the finest form of recognition. Not a medal. Not an award. But hearing someone say to a colleague:
"Call Renato. He'll give you an honest opinion."
Words like those cannot be bought. They must be earned. When I look back today at the road I traveled, I understand that those years laid the foundation for everything that would follow. Without that network of human relationships, without that mutual trust, and without those hundreds of conversations, the Glass Pyramid in Lummen would probably never have come into being. Piramedia might never have been born. And Marco and I might never have had the opportunity to build our dream together.
But at the time, all of that still belonged to the future. We simply lived from one appointment to the next. From one factory to another. From one customer to the next. Without realizing that all those small steps together formed a long road. A road that would change our lives forever. Perhaps that is one of life's greatest mysteries. Often, we understand the meaning of our journey only many years later, when we look back.
Then we see that every encounter led somewhere. Every handshake. Every journey. Every opportunity. They all became stones in the foundation upon which the rest of our life was built. That is why I do not look back with pride at the road I traveled. I look back with gratitude. Gratitude for every person who, somewhere along the way, decided to place their trust in me. Each of them helped build my life. And I will always remain profoundly grateful to them.