Dream
When I was 4 years old I had a Dream, and it was so real that when I woke up, I kept dreaming and travelling in it. It was a beautiful dream in which I saw myself as an old man, with wrinkles in my face but a huge smile, surrounded by several little children. In that dream I also saw a very beautiful and green place, full of schools, sport area and even hospitals.
That dream was stuck in my head and when I was a child, I kept wondering and imagining how that place would be. I spent hours and hours just thinking about how that paradise for children would be.
Two years later, when I was 6, I met a little angel called “Mumuca”.
It was a day during the week and my mother had gone out to get something for lunch. When she got back, she came with a little child with his head full of blood so that my dad, who is a doctor, could help him.
That first meeting (I remember it very well till today) was a meeting of two boys from two different “worlds”... We were just two boys without prejudices, without differences... Just two boys with one thing in mind: to know each other and become friends.
And that friendship was born inmediately. We spent the whole afternoon playing and enjoying. My new friend was so cheerful and had such an innocent air that he was laughing and playing all the time. Till it was time to go to sleep. I had a bed, but my new friend had to go back home. What home? He lived in the street with his parents...
Well, every time we went out to the street I found people who look at us when we were playing in the park and eating at home. Prejudices? What was that? I didn´t know the meaning of that word... We were just two boys, just two little boys...
Many times when we had to say bye, it was a big problem, because I saw that boy (my friend) going from happiness to sadness when going back to the streets, without a roof to sleep, with alcoholic parents who beat at him many times. That was the most difficult part.
Once I didn´t see my friend for a while. Would anything have happened to him? Had he moved? No, he had been taken out of the street and brought to a place he didn´t know where it was. He came back or escaped from that place with a look of fear in his eyes. He didn´t have the same innocence and purity of the boy I met, but of course, our friendship was the same, only that I noticed my friend different and traumatized.
He disappeared for a while once and again, and he began to go with a band of children who were drugged and who were sniffing glue. Until one day, when a group of street children surrounded me, he arrived and protected me opening his arms and saying that I was his friend, so that nobody could touch me. The group ran away and he said goodbye quickly with a worrying face.
After a very long time without meeting him, I met his younger brother... Hi! How are you? And Mumuca?” The answer was straight, as if it was something normal “he died ueh...” and he kept walking as if that was something normal to say. I stood there looking at him while he was walking away without believing what I had just heard. I couldn´t believe that a boy like me, my friend, my same age, who was just looking for a little love and compassion from others, had died being only 10 years old...
My dream made me see the future, and my meeting with my dear friend Mumuquita opened my eyes to the reality of today.
All this story gives us forces everyday to give ourselves to the children who, like Mumuca, only want love and an opportunity in this life.
Rest in peace and may our little angel protects us!