riadna es una mujer maravillosa y la amo; ella ha sido un valioso e imprescindible sostén en mi existencia. Voy a hablarle un poco de ella. Una mañana, como muchas, ella intentaba concentrarse en su maquillaje, al frente de la peinadora de nuestra recámara. Esa mañana tenía más actividades que de costumbre. Se cepilló su cabello negro, que lleva cortado a la moda, a la altura del mentón. ¿Ya la ha visto? Es una mujer esbelta, hermosa, de piel canela, en la que relumbran aún los destellos de la juventud. A través de sus ojos oscuros se percibe el alma de una persona bondadosa. Nos casamos hace veinticinco años; ella es diez años más joven que yo; sin embargo, ha madurado lo suficiente como para que podamos vivir una vida de amor y de armonía.
Debo expresarle que antes de ella hubo un matrimonio, del cual tengo una hija. En un inicio ella tuvo grandes reservas para aceptarme, pero las vencí con amor y dedicación. Los días más felices de mi vida fueron cuando nacieron mis hijos; pero el día clave en la existencia de ella, así me lo ha dicho muchas veces, fue la tarde en que la llamaron del hospital para decirle que yo había sido internado en cuidados intensivos con un infarto al miocardio.
Es que después de esa fecha, nuestra vida ha dado un giro completo, al mudarnos al campo para apoyar el nuevo tipo de vida que yo debía emprender para mi rehabilitación.
Cuando terminaron las transacciones que dieron fin al emporio Erasmo Rodríguez, S. A., las que encabezó magistralmente Ariadna, se mudó conmigo a la nueva casa construida en parte según las especificaciones que ella propuso, lo que la ayudó a superar rápidamente el trauma que constituyó su abrupto corte con la vida social de la capital
Al principio pensó en el cambio como un proceso muy difícil, pero enseguida se vio inmersa en la serie de proyectos, que sustituyeron lo que, al principio, se entendió que iba a ser un reposado retiro para mí. A medida que se iba enterando de las calamidades y necesidades de los lugareños, de las historias, cada una más preocupante que la otra, de los hogares abandonados por las madres que buscaban una salida falsa a su miseria, de los niños y las niñas creciendo entre el conformismo y la ignorancia, a quienes ella llamaba “los ángeles del olvido”, Ariadna entendió que yo sólo jamás podría siquiera modificar un poco tales destinos. Fue así como, menos de un mes después de su arribo al lugar, ya se consideraba como la madrina de los niños más necesitados.
Al enfrentarse al dolor de esos infantes su temperamento cambió; ella, amante de la moda y del glamour, dejó de interesarse en trivialidades. Debía admitirlo: cuando la invité a regresar al campo de manera permanente, nunca imaginó cuánto iba a cambiarle la vida con ese viaje. Anticipó, eso sí, una especie de sopor del que saldríamos de vez en cuando con algunos viajes a la capital. Pero esa idea cambió en cuanto se vio en la nueva casa. Hubo también algunos días en los cuales se sintió celosa por mi múltiples ocupaciones, y se quejaba diciendo que yo no seguía las recomendaciones del médico, pero muy pronto ella también tuvo llenas sus horas libres en distintas labores sociales.
Una noche, le comenté que me sentía muy feliz. Me había arriesgado a transitar por caminos nuevos, en terrenos hasta cierto punto desconocidos, y ahora ostentaba una nueva filosofía, todo lo que la vida me había dado, era nada más que un préstamo. Esa noche, en la recámara, le abrí mi corazón, para explicarle cómo entendía lo que se me presentaba por delante ahí en el campo:
Ariadna is a wonderful woman and I love her; she has been a valuable and indispensable support in my life. Let me talk you about her. One morning, as many others, she was applying her makeup, in front of our bedroom dresser. That morning she had more chores to do than usual. She brushed her black hair, fashionable hairstyles up to her chin. Did you know her? She is slim, beautiful, brownish skin, still showing sparks of young age. Her dark eyes reflects a soul of a gentle person. We were married twenty-five years ago; she is ten years younger than me; however, she has matured well enough so that we can live a life of love and harmony.
I have been previously married and a daughter was born of this marriage. At the beginning she was not totally convinced to accept our relationship, but I clarified her doubts with Love and dedication. The happiest days of my life were those when my children were born; but the most dramatic day in her life, as she had told me many times, was that evening when she received a call from the hospital announcing her that I had been admitted to the intensive care unit because of a heart attack.
After that event, our life had changed completely when we moved to the countryside to start a new lifestyle that I felt necessary for my recovery.
When the business transactions that put an end to the ERASMO RODRÍGUEZ, S. A. ´s emporium were finished, masterfully conducted by Ariadna, she moved with me to the new house built according to her own specifications, and this helped her very much to overcome quickly the trauma caused by her sudden change of lifestyle.
At the beginning, she considered the change as a very difficult process, but immediately she was involved in many projects that replaced what she had believed at first would be a peaceful retirement. As she was learning about the locals plights and needs, the stories, each one more worrisome than the other, about the homes abandoned by mothers who were looking for a false solution to their misery, about the children growing up between conformism and ignorance, whom she called “the angels of oblivion”, Ariadna understood that I alone could never change the fate of those people. That is how, in less than a month after her arrival, she considered herself as the godmother of the poorest children.
When she faced the pain of those kids her temperament changed; she -a fashion and glamour lover- was no longer interested about trivialities. I must admit that when I invited her to come back to the countryside permanently, she never imagined how much this move could change her life. She anticipated, however, that we would make occasional trips to the city. But the idea changed as soon as she moved to the new house. There were also some days in which she felt jealous because of my multiple occupations, and she complained that I did not follow the doctor´s orders, but soon, she was also so busy with various social activities that she had no more free time..
One night, I told her I was very happy. I had risked taking new horizons somehow unknown, and now I have a new philosophy, which was that all life had given me was only a loan. That night, in the bedroom, I opened my heart to explained her what I felt called to do in the countryside:
Dec 5
Dec. 5/2013:
-Now that I have time to read and meditate I had learned that the self-esteem, solidarity with others, commitment to a more just society, and looking for and meet the mission that everyone has to do, are the pillars to a happy life. Do you realize how far this was from my priorities until this moment? And I found everything I was looking for here ..
At that time, Ariadna still does not understand the magnitude of the challenge, so she remained in silent while I kept talking:
-I have reached an internal peace -unknown to me until now- and I feel a deep transformation that I had never felt before, instead I found it when I faced death.
Then she took my hands and told me:
-You´re right, honey, I had not clear objectives either. Now that the kids have made their lives far from here, we stay alone, even if it is not true, we have each other, but it is not the same. During these weeks that I have been busy with the business, I was afraid that we were losing everything, but now I see that I was wrong. There are so many things to do. Now I realize there is so much to do for the sake of the community´s children; those little kids without benefits, they suffer sickness, they are underfed, but their deepest wounds are the changes they have to face in the future. And I am convinced that with you I will help them a lot.
Ariadna knew very well that having a goal in life is an important requisite to become a happy person. Without feeling that purpose, anybody's life could be an empty pit, the person will not be satisfied, and if these emotions got worst, this person will become frustrated, distressed and depressed. If the person does not have projects to improve the future, then, depression, sickness or even death will take place. There are people who spend their time locked in their routine, and they are just busy paying bills, organizing their place, educating their children; yes, they are busy, but unsatisfied.
Although these activities have nothing wrong, they could not be the only thing to do, because many important moments will be lost in behaviors that do not produce personal satisfactions and much less peace. When we find the activity that passionate us, the strong dedication that is not easy to understand for simple people, anyone will be capable to be motivated with any task, and will be involved into the personal objective. That sense of mission satisfies a strong internal need, an energy that is almost creative about what is the most important, and with faith we can do anything.
Ariadna arrived to the farm loaded with toys, on Christmas day. One of the children she most liked was Mongutito, the same boy I had been talking her about. He also liked her and immediately he did not feel as shy as he had been with me at the beginning. She would never forget the happiness on the boy´s face when he opened the gift that she gave him. He confessed that never before he had received a toy. He looked it for a long time and said:
Dic. 10/2013
-Thank you, I am going to take care of it, so that it lasts my whole life.
Ariadna had to hold back her tears.
-It does not have to last the whole life-she answered while caressing his head-. Play with it, and if the toy is broken, I will buy you another one. This will be your first toy, but not the last one. I promise.
The boy approached and hugged her. She felt on her shoulders the tears of the boy.
-Why are you crying? I thought you would be happy.
-Of course I am.
-And then?
-You remind me my mother.
Ariadna remained silent and the boy continued talking quietly.
-I do not remember her face, because when she went away I was three years old only, but I remember her scent. Sometimes I feel it and I think she will come back. I had prayed so much to God begging she will come back home, but the Lord did not hear me…
Ariadna hugged him strongly, and tried to be calm.
-Never lose your faith, I am sure God is listening you in one way or another, He is listening to you.
At that moment I get closer to them and Ariadna invited Mongutito to eat, but he answered that his father was waiting for him. She served him the meal in a container. The boy said good bye and went away singing.
Later, he told us that when he arrived at home, his father was waiting for him; they almost never had a conversation, his father was so tired that he slept immediately. But this time it was different.
Where had you been?-he asked seriously.
-The beautiful lady asked for me and she gave some food.
-But you know, I do not want you to be a beggar.
-I did not ask anything, dad, she gave it to me. It is enough for us both.
-I do not want it; besides, it is not a good idea you get used to eat meals from rich people. Later, you would not like the food I prepare for you.
-Dad, I will never stop eating your food, but please, let me take this.
-Eat it until you burst!
-If you get mad, it would be better I feed the pigs with it…
-Eat it, do you hear me?
The boy took the food to his mouth slowly, as he chew it. The man watched him and a shadow of sadness covered his face. He felt in the depths of his heart an extreme compassion for his son because life had been too hard for him. He could still remember clearly the scene when he found his kid alone, crying, that afternoon when María abandoned them. He walked inside the ranch; it was 5 o´clock pm when he heard Mongutito crying. The kid was in the little playpen that he made with his own hands. He called loudly his wife, so that she would take care of the baby; he received no answer. Then he held the baby and feed him with a bottle of water. He was aware that his son was hungry, so, he prepared a bottle of milk. He lifted the baby into bed taking his bottle, and he began to look for María around the area. He did not want to go so far, because the kid was alone; when he came back desperately to his place, the baby had already taken the milk and was sleeping.
Then, he saw the piece of paper folded on the table. It was a letter: he unfolded it. A huge grief went through his heart and a bad feeling invaded his soul. He made a pause and breathed deeply. I can imagine it: his eyes fixed on the letter; this note it was only lines without sense because he never learned how to read or write. He must have touched the paper with his rough hands wanting to hear the words from the lines. When night fell, he was still looking for the meaning of the letter.
He stayed awake until late, crying a lot, and sometimes folding the paper, others smoothing it in the middle of the night. He told me that, later, many times.
In the morning, he walked holding his son to his godmother´s house, whose daughter attended school until third grade, years ago. She would confirm the meaning of the letters.
The girl´s mother saw when he was coming, and for some reason, she understood the situation. However, she asked him what was happening, and she listened the the story. When the girl began to read the note, both of them knew what was going on:
Manuel:
I am leaving; do not ask for me, it would be vain. You do know the reasons why I am abandoning you; in the last quarrel we had, I told you. I can´t continue living in this way, I am sick of this town, I am hoping for better days and you are the dumbest man I have ever known. You shout me that all this is nonsense, but I can´t stand that. My life has no sense, you were the one who hurt me, and I have no interest in staying. There are two options: to let both of you down or die, and please forgive me, because I choose to live my life. I know you are a good father and you will take care of Manuelito. Please, stop naming him “Mongutito”; I hate that nickname.
You have always treated us as if we were animals; he is your Mongutito and maybe, I am a cow for you, but this complaint is completely irrelevant. You know better than anyone that I did my best so that our relationship would get better. You always blame my parents because I did not adapt myself to the countryside. You said it was because they sent me to study at the city. We dated since we were kids and when I came back I thought I could change you, and it was for that reason that I married you, but our relationship became worse and worse. My parents do not know I am abandoning you; I am not going to provide them my address, because they would let it you know or they would look for me. This is a one-way trip. It will be hurt us awfully but eventually you will forget me. I am sure of that. As far as I am concerned, I will never forget my son. I hope he will forgive me when he is old enough. I don't ask for your forgiveness, because I know you and I am sure that you will never give it. Do not think I left you for another man. My heart is broken and I could not love someone else again.
María
Manuel held his little son against his chest, and, although the little kid was sleeping, he said in almost a whisper, in a voice broken with emotion:
-Son, your mother is dead…did you hear me? Do not forget it; yesterday, she died.
----
He approached the girl, he took the letter and he went away without saying good-bye. He walked slowly to the ranch, entered the home and put the boy in his bed. He went into the backyard and let out all his pain in a piercing cry:
--Curse on you! You had not any right to harm us!
Then he bit his lips to the point of bleeding.
Soon after, the people got accustomed to seeing him walking to his fields with his machete in one hand and his son in the other. Manuelito grew up in furrows, near the hills, under sun and water, far away from any activity appropriate to his age. So, now, eight years later, the warm breathe of the tenderness covered his face when he saw his son enjoying the food and cake he had been given.