She was thin, thin thin, any knees and angles, pure Bones said his grandmother, as she tried to remember his childhood, his mother claimed that she had been a happy child, but is that even a child could not recall ever being a child, to his route every days with her mother to her grandmother, her world, her paradise, her imagination, the sweet old lady labored breathing and the sweet old lady, the other, he could not see but knew from afar, for its aroma, for sounds.
loved to get there and hear that laugh of cute little old lady with no teeth and white hair and he loved going into the kitchen of the grandmother to help her frying bananas dulce de leche and eat, be sheltered by those tetotas grandmother where She felt loved.
His two loves, the only certain that it has had all his life and the only known non-shared, were She loves to only.
traveled crestfallen from the day walking along the curb road to grandmother's house, the Mamavieja, he found a coin from that wonderful day is not raised his eyes from the ground by the way, if it happened once could happen again, it was not a currency was a watch and share a week with her sister.
wondering and wondering if your old ladies once was happy and they told him, my daughter smiled continuously, you rocked in the hammock on my lap and scream of happiness, is not you remember?
And no, I could not remember, then produced the magic .- Doña said the sweet blind girl ... ma'am, we tell stories to the child to be happy again, .- Who starts? .- You, Aunt, you begin, tell me about Maria Bonita Maria La Fea, I really like this, .- Let's see .. Start your my girl, I have a hundred ten years and my mind fails me a bit ...
- Haha my tiaaaaaaaaaaaaa you say to that is I who tell stories, should be the reverse, my girl .- No really, I am old lady so you do not see him laughing and grandmother in the window of the kitchen, preparing huge pots of sweet cherries, laughed too, between the three knew the trick, they said they had and She told them, the amused, made her feel like the luckiest girl world blind aunt had a saddle, as she called it and so precarious leaning against the wall in his old back rest and closed my eyes ...
of the mouth of the girl stories began to flow a little girl named Maria la Fea, a cousin named Maria Bonita, where Maria's ugly power struggles consistency and always went above Maria's Bonita, She was known Maria la Fea, She embellished her stories about when breathing under water and was a thousand treasures and a silver comb to comb the strands of white hair of old ladies.
At that time I was happy and did not know they were nostalgic evening he spent with his two old ladies, the house with internal courtyard where you breathe the guava syrup dripping from the tree in the courtyard of Ramón Esteban, the delicious smell of freshly baked arepas with his grandmother fed all his progeny and their offspring, as she said laughing .
That
cutest smile, his pride, saying of his seventy-four years and have all your teeth, She saw normal, which was so wise no great feat, as normal as the other old lady I had not even one in his bare gums.
early morning the neighbors came for coffee one by one, when she stayed to sleep at home with their old ladies loved those mornings, began giving the good morning without even the dawn of the sun, the aroma of coffee reached Mamavieja the noses of the entire block and encounter was mandatory, the awakened with laughter, she asked him to She , who had dreamed Mamavieja .- I do not remember, I think I did not dream anything, .- It is because even at night my girl, go back to sleep, dreams are
important ...
But I could not, she loved listening to stories of those who met there, how he hid from the dictatorship of how that old lady he called Mamavieja, fight barehanded with a general, national security, full of fear and love for his son because he was so taken prisoner and habina , General prevented him from seeing ... and how all his strength faltered when he could finally see him bloodied and tortured and his mother can not stand pain and fainting .. a son, two sons .. three sons and the son ... submitted by democratic ideas, how much history, the head of She , how much wisdom of years and then the way back home ..
One block, two or five had not, they knew by heart ... provided by the edge of the sidewalk, always with his head down ... Always thinking because I had to, leave behind their old ladies, if you leave behind the smiles and fantasy, not listening for a long time, stories of when she was happy ....
Original Story of Aphrodite.
photos, some taken from the net ...!