Shortly after I turned 7, I left for my first international trip.And just before this trip to Ana, who had worked in my house since always and helped to take care of me, gave me a shoulder bag.It was small, made of jeans with some gold accents.The handle was too long for my body and, so I could use it without dragging, my mother knotted.It was obvious that she would travel with her.Before embarking I got some of my uncle’s sweets that were gracefully placed in the bag.And there we went.
At the time, airlines used the expediency of many stopovers to fill the seats on the flight and with us it was no different.We stopped in the middle of the night in Rio de Janeiro where we had to get off the plane.My purse was placed in my pocket in front of my armchair and my parents, perhaps out of naivety or even lack of experience, told me to leave the bag there on mbakecheng.com, since we would return to sit in the exact places.When we got back, nothing from the bag.I was very annoyed, we tried to find her without success.The fact, seen in the eyes of today, was to be expected.But I never forgot the little bag, the caramels I did not eat, Ana’s physiognomy when I presented myself, and, above all, the taste of traveling on vacation.
When I was 7 years old, my daughter would walk to the swimming class accompanied by Maria, who has worked here at home since always and helps me to take care of the children.On Wednesdays they had to cross the fair that happens in our corner.In one of these passages, my daughter was enchanted by a pink purse with a large bow.Maria, every nigger, got an excuse and bought that purse as an early birthday present for my little girl.The strap was also too long for her body and for this reason she also received an adjustment knot.Such a pink little bag is the girl’s passion and goes with her everywhere.
Even for the holidays, where I could find her resting on the couch Saturday night – as important to her as the denim bag was to me.
We did not have crazy holidays this year.There was no exclusive or exotic destination on our way, let alone the children learned to climb mountain ranges.We spent the last 30 days in our country house – as is usual – and we were able to enjoy a simpler, uncomplicated life.
In fact we live intensely – and what is more extraordinary than living?
His son took the wheels out of his bicycle and now he can venture faster.
The daughter exercised (and much) the responsibility and freedom to own her schedules.
I could greet my flowers daily and thank the wonder of being there.He worked in a mezzanine of the house, with an eye on the door, accompanying the children’s movement even with an internet slower than usual.I used to cook and I had a lot of fun.
We divided responsibilities and made the decoration together of the celebration of 7 (!) Years of the small.
We were happy and came back light.Which makes me think that, more than traveling, the taste of vacation is in our soul.Holidays are state of mind, a break that allows us to analyze our days from another angle.Now, back to the daily routine, what remains is the fond memories of the days of lightness.
Every time we relive these memories the holiday taste comes back to the mouth and brings us a smile.