Sublime paradox
As if hypnotized, let me drive to my 'place' - one of the few free points from the floor. A feast worthy of a king in modest table covers. Smells like palm oil. The black-eyed beans. Tropical fruit. The coconut water. And, above all, love.
- "Do you like manga? I look around me. Two unforgettable dark eyes stare at me with tenderness.
- "I love it. Is the sun and the summer. What is your name? "
- "Clotilde. I am 14 years old. My parents died when he was very tiny. Mary met me on the street. It was then that I came to live with her. Come, I'll show you my room. "
Clotilde's room is no more than a small bed. At the same time displaying their ' traveling doll ' ("you know, she traveled to Rio!"), Explains to me that divides the room with seven sisters and brothers. Between four and 20 years, faces and have totally different personalities. Sandra, for example. With its mature 15 years, would be a lawyer. Pedro. Without hesitation, announces that he wants to be a sailor. To "embrace the globe." Fabio. Violet eyes and long golden hair, dreams of becoming the new Caetano. As he drink his coconut water, takes a few chords on the guitar. And sings. His velvet voice spreads happiness.
Inspired by the music, I turn to the courtyard. Lying on a hammock, Maria stops to embrace the seductive light of the sun Bahia. With her eyes sparkling with affection, the children quietly contemplate.
- "Are all your children?"
- "Yes. But only the older two are biological. "
- "How? Adopted six? And he can take care of everyone? Alone? "
- "I can do it. I saved them from poverty in the city. Loneliness, orphanhood, thirst for love. Bad companies, crime, I don't no. In Salvador you see everything. Shots, bandits, knives, blood. Life can be very ugly. Live here in peace. "
I still do not understand. How does a lady of 52 years old can educate eight children without assistance? My skepticism is to be perceptive. With a smile disentangle, notes:
- "Sometimes it is not easy, no. But everything in life becomes meaningful when we act with love. Humans are all my brothers. Whenever I help one, my heart takes a wing. My children give me so much, girl. They are my courage, intelligence, sensitivity. They are who I am. "
What a mirror of altruism! Yes these are words of gold. Pronounced in a remote village in the middle of nowhere. Water insists rolling down my face. But the worst is the voice of tears. A hen clucks suddenly. I am forever grateful to her.
Back in Salvador, I think in this chameleon country. Here you find the story of an exemplary life. I am Mary and eight children. I watch a show of samba. I'm color, joy. I hear gunshots I see blood and face injuries. Am violence, instability. So is Brazil, a sublime paradox. As aptly summarizes Gilberto Gil, this musical genius in "The Human Race":
"The human race is the burning wound / A beauty, a rot / The eternal fire and the death / Death and Resurrection."
* Name of Mary and the children are fictitious.