Madre por siempre madre / Mother forever mother
Madre por siempre madre
En honor a mi abuela
Casi al culminar el líquido saborizado sentí como el aire circulaba libre por mis piernas, no podía creer lo que contemplaban mis ojos, estaba en ropa interior. El apuro y la desesperación me invadieron, me quité mis pantalones y había ido a la bodega en calzoncillos, que pena para un jovencito de catorce años de edad. De inmediato regresé a mi casa. Al abrir la puerta del patio me detuvo una curiosa bolsita de tela con varias monedas y dos billetes, la cual estaba enrollada y amarrada. La tomé y al detallarla salté de alegría. ¡Qué maravilla! -Exclamé. Guardé el dinero entre piel y calzoncillo.
Fui a mi habitación, la única que tenía mi humilde casita de barro. Tomé ropa limpia y salí a la calle a jugar con mi bolsita en el bolsillo del pantalón, me aseguraba que estuviera allí tocándola constantemente. Transcurrida una hora inicié el gasto del bendito dinero: caramelos, dulces, helados tradicionales, panes, en fin todo aquel deleite que las costumbres ancestrales me transmitieron. ¡Qué delicia! -Expresaba cada vez que degustaba todo aquello.
La distracción con mis amigos y la rutina de juegos sumaron cansancio a mi pequeño cuerpo. Regresé a mi ranchito ya pasada la hora del mediodía. Me detuvo la figura del ser que me dio la vida, ella estaba pensativa y abrumada buscando algo perdido. Caminaba de un lado a otro, sus manos en la cabeza reflejaban gran preocupación. Entró a la cocina, revisó la alacena de madera, buscó por piso de tierra y el momento de angustia se acrecentaba. Sus ojos marrones y las expresiones en su cara denotaban desdicha.
Fui a la habitación y me senté en una de las dos camas. Entonces me percaté de la llegada de alguien, mi mamá conversaba con la señora. Y como la cocina quedaba al lado del cuarto escuchaba los sollozos de la mujer más buena del mundo: mi madre amada. Mi progenitora le contaba a su comadre que había extraviado el dinero de comprar la comida del almuerzo de sus hijos. Éramos siete hermanos. Su comadre, al ver su conmoción y desespero, fue a su casa y trajo una pana de arroz cocido con frijoles.
Mis lágrimas y el dolor en el pecho eran de tal magnitud que no sabía cómo explicar la pena por haber gastado el dinero, me escondí debajo de la cama. Estuve un largo rato meditando sobre lo mal que actué. La lección recibida ese día me marcó. El sufrimiento de una madre no tiene comparación cuando las necesidades de sus hijos son lo primero. Desde entonces también creció el amor, la querencia y la consideración que empecé a profundizar por ese ser tan, pero tan maravilloso que me puso Dios en la tierra: mi madre Aura Quijada.
English Version
Mother forever mother
In honor of my grandmother
It was 10 in the morning and the sun was imposing at the top of the sky. I got to my house, and like a circus bouncer, I left my school supplies on the table in the small room and ran to Mr. José Quedaba's cellar, which was right in front of it. The room was empty, I asked the winemaker to send me a soft drink and a medium bread, I continued to clean the spout of the bottle, I opened a hole in the wheat food and emptied a little of its contents. For me it was a delicious treat, its flavor flooded my senses and thoughts. I liked it so much that I repeated this ritual from Monday to Friday.
Almost at the end of the flavored liquid I felt how the air circulated freely through more legs, I could not believe what my eyes were contemplating, I was in underwear. The haste and despair invaded me, I took off my pants and had gone to the cellar in my underwear, what a shame for a fourteen-year-old boy. I immediately returned to my house. When I opened the patio door, I was stopped by a curious cloth bag with several coins and two bills, which was rolled up and tied. I took it and detailing it jumped for joy. Wonderful! -I exclaimed. I kept the money between skin and underwear.
I went to my room, the only one that had my humble little mud house. I took clean clothes and went out to the street to play with my bag in my pants pocket, I made sure I was there constantly touching it. After an hour I started spending the blessed money: candies, sweets, traditional ice creams, breads, in short, all that delight that ancestral customs transmitted to me. What a treat! -He expressed every time he tasted all that.
The distraction with my friends and the routine of games added fatigue to my small body. I returned to my little ranch after noon. I was stopped by the figure of the being that gave me life, she was pensive and overwhelmed looking for something lost. He paced from one side to the other, his hands on his head reflecting great concern. He went into the kitchen, checked the wooden cupboard, looked for a dirt floor, and the moment of anguish increased. His brown eyes and the expressions on his face denoted misery.
I went to the bedroom and sat on one of the two beds. Then I noticed someone's arrival, my mother was talking with the lady. And since the kitchen was next to the room, I heard the sobs of the best woman in the world: my beloved mother. My mother told her comadre that she had lost the money to buy lunch for her children. We were seven brothers. His comadre, seeing his shock and despair, went to his house and brought a corduroy of rice cooked with beans.
My tears and the pain in my chest were of such magnitude that I did not know how to explain the pain for having spent the money, I hid under the bed. I was meditating for a long time on how bad I acted. The lesson received that day marked me. A mother's suffering is unmatched when her children's needs come first. Since then, the love, affection and consideration that I began to deepen for that being so, so wonderful that God put me on earth also grew: my mother Aura Quijada.
