![]() |
William-Adolphe Bouguereau, Une vocation (calling in) , Oil on canvans. Private collection. |
One afternoon in late winter. Not so cold and the sun has not yet set. The ride is short and pleasant walk wrapped in red cloth coat. At the end of the road on the right, opens the church square.
The girl runs along the walls carparo, tall, and looked at the bell. Then he hastens to enter into a side room, sit quietly and greets with the others, waiting for the teacher begins the lesson.
The interior of the room begins to take over the orange tones of the sunset and the baby seems small gold particles that hover between the chairs, table and window panes. He smiles slowly and imperceptibly.
The teacher starts talking. It has an indefinable age and curly red hair. The sweet voice and friendly talks about a young man who first called the Sea of \u200b\u200bGalilee, Simon and Andrew, then James and John, to make them fishers of men.
The girl closes her eyes, imagine the banks of the lake, waves lapping boats and fishing nets. Imagine a young man and his gaze. I wonder if that day the wind blew down there.
The teacher continues to speak, but the child gets lost in his thoughts that smell of waves and wind. The gaze to the window as the sun greets her with the last golden rays and feels like wrapped in a soft cloud of cotton.
The teacher's voice is silent. They run other small items. The girl turns around to see what happens. The heart starts beating. Each of these children are responding to the same question. Soon it's up to you. The idea of \u200b\u200bspeaking in front of everyone uncomfortable. Sometimes like to be invisible, to be alone to listen without having to intervene.
That girl so thin and taciturn would not have to answer, would return to imagine the lake and the fishing boats, he would like his heart stops beating wildly, would not hesitate to be so shy and that the teacher would not repeat the question, after his silence.
"And you grew up, who want to become?".
The girl looks up and with a faint voice reveals:
"... an angel ... or a poet ...".
.
0 comments:
Post a Comment