Pront: "Rifle"
Era temprano en la mañana del sábado, y me encontraba mirando a mi esposa en la cama, perdida en su dulce sueño, cuando escuche los gritos de alegría de unos niños jugando, lo que hizo que me asomara a la ventana para verlos jugar.
Y cuando vi a los niños jugando a los soldados, utilizando rifles de plástico y utilizando cascos de béisbol, como si fuesen cascos de guerra, me recordé de mi juventud, solo que en aquella época jugamos a vaqueros e indios y los rifles normalmente eran ramas de madera.
Mientras reía, cuando estaba mirando a los niños jugar, sentí los dulces brazos de mi compañera abrazándome con cariño, y al preguntarme el porqué reía, le recordé mis memorias infantiles. Al voltear y verle la cara, me di cuenta de que ella tenía un pensamiento que la puso algo intranquila. Al preguntarle en qué pensaba, me miró y guardó silencio.
A los pocos segundos, me dijo, ‘‘Si tenemos un hijo, no lo dejemos jugar con armas, que juegue a ser médico, constructor, bombero, pero jamás a ser soldad’’. No quiero que se le metan ideas raras y de heroísmo en la cabeza, como sucedió con nuestro joven vecino, que terminó muriendo en una movilización en el medio oriente.
En ese momento, me di cuenta de una realidad, y es que cada vez que jugamos con rifles y armas, justificamos la violencia, y al hacerlo creamos tan violento como este. Así que la abracé y besando su mejilla, le dije: ‘‘Si tienes razón, haremos que juegue otro tipo de juegos y tal vez así empecemos a construir un mundo mejor’’.
Muchas gracias por leerme.
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To Read in English
5-minute daily message: Childhood memories. Short Story.
Pront: "Rifle"
It was early Saturday morning, and I was looking at my wife in bed, lost in her sweet sleep, when I heard the joyful cries of some children playing, which made me look out the window to see them playing.
And when I saw the children playing soldiers, using plastic rifles and wearing baseball helmets, as if they were war helmets, I was reminded of my youth, only back then we played cowboys and Indians and the rifles were usually wooden branches.
While laughing, when I was watching the children play, I felt the sweet arms of my companion hugging me with affection, and when she asked me why I was laughing, I reminded her of my childhood memories. When I turned around and saw her face, I realized that she had a thought that made her somewhat uneasy. When I asked him what he was thinking, he looked at me and was silent.
A few seconds later, he told me, ‘If we have a son, let's not let him play with guns, let him play doctor, builder, firefighter, but never to be a soldier.’ I don't want strange and heroic ideas to get into his head, as happened with our young neighbor, who ended up dying in a mobilization in the Middle East.
At that moment, I realized a reality, and that is that every time we play with rifles and weapons, we justify violence, and in doing so we create as violent as this one. So I hugged her and kissing her cheek, I said, "If you're right, we'll make her play other kinds of games and maybe that's how we'll start building a better world."
Thank you very much for reading me.
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I invite the following to participate: @esbat, @alicia2022.