marți, iulie 2

Un moment perfect


Ieri, la supermarket, nu stiam ce banda de la casierie merge mai repede, asa ca le-am verificat pe toate inainte de a alege una. In fata mea era un barbat simplu, cu trasaturile grele si cu fata plina de linii. Genul muncitor cu ziua. Sarac. Simteai cumva ca viata nu a fost blanda cu el. Cred ca avea 45 de ani, dar parea de 60. Poate chiar 65. Imbatranit inainte de vreme. M-am asezat dupa el. Avea doua paini albe si o punga cu boabe pentru pisici. M-am uitat la el, m-am uitat la punga. Iar m-am uitat la el si iar m-am uitat la punga. Nu ai fi zis ca e genul care are grija de o pisica. Nu in genul ca le face rau, dar cu siguranta nu mi-ar fi trecut prin cap, daca nu era punga cu bobite, ca ar putea avea asemenea gingasii bine ascunse intr-o fizionomie care il facea sa para mai aspru si mai batran.

Si mi-am adus aminte de o povestire scrisa de Hemingway, despre un barbat care avea grija de animalute-The old Man at the Bridge, pe care o puteti citi la finalul postarii. Toata lumea din jurul lui fugea, se retragea, era razboi, iar el era singurul care statea si se intreba ce o sa faca el fara animalele de care a avut grija toata viata. Care este de fapt rostul lui, daca animalele lui nu vor mai fi...

Apoi, ca sa intru in vorba cu el, l-am intrebat pe barbatul din fata mea cate pisici are. Prima oara nu mi-a raspuns. Mi-a aruncat doar o privire rapida, pe sub gene. Cred ca nu i-a venit sa creada ca vorbeam cu el. Am repetat intrebarea. Fata i s-a luminat instantaneu, a intinerit  si mi-a raspuns ca patru. Doi mari si doi mici, care s-au pripasit in ograda lui. Apoi a scos o punga din buzunar, ponosita de atatea refolosiri, ca sa nu mai plateasaca si acea ecotaxa la supermarket.
L-am rugat sa ma lase sa platesc eu mancarea pisicilor si painile. Nu am avut impresia ca dau de pomana (eu chiar nu dau bani cersetorilor), ci fac un lucru firesc, la fel cum firesc este sa ai grija de patru pisoi care s-au pripasit pe la tine prin ograda, oricat ai fi de amarat.

A plecat uluit, multumind incontinuu, iar mie mi s-au umplut ochii de lacrimi.


“The Old Man at the Bridge” 
by Ernest Hemingway

An old man with steel rimmed spectacles and very dusty clothes sat by the side of the road. There was a pontoon bridge across the river and carts, trucks, and men, women and children were crossing it. The mule- drawn carts staggered up the steep bank from the bridge with soldiers helping push against the spokes of the wheels. The trucks ground up and away heading out of it all and the peasants plodded along in the ankle deep dust. But the old man sat there without moving. He was too tired to go any farther.
It was my business to cross the bridge, explore the bridgehead beyond and find out to what point the enemy had advanced. I did this and returned over the bridge. There were not so many carts now and very few people on foot, but the old man was still there.
"Where do you come from?" I asked him.
"From San Carlos," he said, and smiled.
That was his native town and so it gave him pleasure to mention it and he smiled.
"I was taking care of animals," he explained.
"Oh," I said, not quite understanding.
"Yes," he said, "I stayed, you see, taking care of animals. I was the last one to leave the town of San Carlos."
He did not look like a shepherd nor a herdsman and I looked at his black dusty clothes and his gray dusty face and his steel

rimmed spectacles and said, "What animals were they?"
"Various animals," he said, and shook his head. "I had to leave them."
I was watching the bridge and the African looking country of the Ebro Delta and wondering how long now it would be

before we would see the enemy, and listening all the while for the first noises that would signal that ever mysterious event called contact, and the old man still sat there.
"What animals were they?" I asked.
"There were three animals altogether," he explained. "There were two goats and a cat and then there were four pairs of pigeons."
And you had to leave them?" I asked.
"Yes. Because of the artillery. The captain told me to go because of the artillery."
"And you have no family?" I asked, watching the far end of the bridge where a few last carts were hurrying down the slope

of the bank.
"No," he said, "only the animals I stated. The cat, of course, will be all right. A cat can look out for itself, but I cannot think

what will become of the others."
"What politics have you?" I asked.
"I am without politics," he said. "I am seventy-six years old. I have come twelve kilometers now and I think now I can go

no further."
"This is not a good place to stop," I said. "If you can make it, there are trucks up the road where it forks for Tortosa."
"I will wait a while," he said, " and then I will go. Where do the trucks go?"
"Towards Barcelona," I told him.
"I know no one in that direction," he said, "but thank you very much. Thank you again very much."
He looked at me very blankly and tiredly, and then said, having to share his worry with someone, "The cat will be all right, I

am sure. There is no need to be unquiet about the cat. But the others. Now what do you think about the others?" "Why they'll probably come through it all right."
"You think so?"
"Why not," I said, watching the far bank where now there were no carts.

"But what will they do under the artillery when I was told to leave because of the artillery?" "Did you leave the dove cage unlocked?" I asked.
"Y es."
"Then they'll fly."

"Yes, certainly they'll fly. But the others. It's better not to think about the others," he said.
"If you are rested I would go," I urged. "Get up and try to walk now."
"Thank you," he said and got to his feet, swayed from side to side and then sat down backwards in the dust.
"I was taking care of animals," he said dully, but no longer to me. "I was only taking care of animals."
There was nothing to do about him. It was Easter Sunday and the Fascists were advancing toward the Ebro. It was a gray

overcast day with a low ceiling so their planes were not up. That and the fact that cats know how to look after themselves was all the good luck that old man would ever have.

20 de comentarii:

Anca spunea...

Adela, nu am cuvinte sa iti spun cat de frumos mi se pare gestul tau. Jos palaria!

Anonim spunea...

ce frumoooos... ma misca pana la lacrimi astfel de oameni.

adela sirghie spunea...

@Anca: multumesc, am avut inspiratie in acel moment si am reactionat rapid. Dar gestul meu este foarte mic, caci el este cel care nu avea bani-dar impartea cu pisicile.

Alice wonders spunea...

Un suflet cu adevarat bun, daca e dispus sa isi ia de la gura pentru a hrani niste animalute. Dragul de el, ma bucur ca ai putut sa il ajuti!

adela sirghie spunea...

Da. Cati oare ne putem lauda cu asa ceva?

Andreea Costache spunea...

si uite asa m-ai facut sa-mi aduc aminte de toti oamenii frumosi pe care ii avem langa noi..atat de multa dragoste avem de daruit, cu totii :)

Ioana spunea...

Era un om cu suflet mare, la fel de mare ca al tau, Adela. M-ai umplut de bucurie de foarte multe ori, de fiecare data cand povesteai despre pisici si ce ai facut tu pentru ele. Si m-am bucurat pentru fiecae pisicuta salvata sau bine hranita. Pentru ca si eu iubesc toate animalele si nu pot sa trec nepasataore pe langa suferinta lor.

Zuzele spunea...

Ce gest frumos, pisi! :) Bravo :*

Monica spunea...

minunat moment din viata ta, Adela! sunt impresionata...

Camelia Andrasescu spunea...

Si mie mi s-au umplut ochii de lacrimi citind randurile tale...

Anonim spunea...

Daca ar fi cumparat ceva pt 4 copii i-ai fi oferit sa platesti cumparaturile?

Mihaela Mih spunea...

Si pe mine ma marcheaza astfel de momente. Am si eu o intamplare, cu oameni de bun simt cu care viata nu a fost asa usoara, ca barbatul din povestirea ta. Eu am fost doar un observator, dar vroiam sa subliniez ca oamenii saraci sunt adesea mai inimosi si mai bine crescutie decat unele odrasle de bani gata. Mergeam pe trotuar in orasul meu natal, unul micut. Pe strada, un pustan cu o masina scumpa, mergea incet, cu geamurile lasate. Pe marginea soselei, un barbat care nu cred ca avea mai mult de 35 de ani, dar arata intradevar mai in varsta, mergea obosit, ca dupa o zi de munca fizica, tinand bicicleta de coarne. Pustanul clacsoneaza si scoate capul pe geamul masinii vociferand, injurand, cu toate ca avea suficient loc sa treaca. Barbatul, din vreun sat din vecinatate probabil, isi cere scuze cu o fata trista si incearca sa mearga si mai lipit de trotuar. M-am simtit atat de prost pentru omul respectiv, mi-a fost asa mila de el, incat imi venea sa ma duc sa-i ridic moralul si sa-i zic ca nu merita sa indure jignirile primite din partea unui copil care avea ca singur merit faptul ca se nascuse intr-o familie bogata. As spune ...parvenita. Cred ca un copil crescut de mic intr-o familie bogata are o educatie mult mai aleasa.

adela sirghie spunea...

@Anonim: hop si tu! daca ar fi cumparat ceva pentru patru copii, cum stateam eu frumusel in spatele lui, i-as fi sterpelit portofelul, i-as fi imbrancit pe copilasi si as fi fugit din supermarket cat ma tineau puterile:)

MissBodescu spunea...

Asta a fost ca o poveste, o gura de aer proaspat :) Multumesc pentru experienta :)

Ela spunea...

Adela,esti exceptionala.sincer.ador sa iti citesc post urile si imi ajung la suflet.

Georgiana spunea...

Povestioara ta mi-a facut ziua mai frumoasa! :)
Eu am vazut acum cateva seri, cand ploua tare, un catel maidanez din zona dormind cu capul lipit de cel al unui cersetor. Nu i-a lasat nimeni sa doarma in scara, erau in fata usii acelei scari, m-a impresionat asa mult faptul ca se incalzeau si isi tineau companie.

Cecilia spunea...

Oameni amarati cu suflet mare! O poveste impresionanta!

Annamaria spunea...

Sa fii sigura ca gestul tau a fost unul mare, si apreciat! Oamenii ca el si ca tine, cu suflet intr-adevar bun, sunt rari...

adela sirghie spunea...

Bine ca am avut prezenta de spirit. In 30 de secunde omul platea si pleca, iar acum as fi stat sa ma gandesc de ce oare nu am reactionat. Mi s-a mai intamplat.

Pentru ca uneori reactionez cu intarziere, te gandesti la ale tale, iar momentul trece repede...

Laura spunea...

Ce frumos, atat din partea ta cat si din partea lui. Big like pentru raspunsul tau pentru "Anonim".