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Dedico este conto a alguém muito especial, que um dia prometeu: «...tentarei que nunca te pareça que te tiro o rebuçado.»        ...

Sunday, 31 October 2010

Playing the Harpsichord of Life

          There is a story that needs to be told. It happened once upon a time, not so long ago that it could have been forgotten, but too far back in time for anyone to remember when it actually took place.
          Faith was sitting at her harpsichord, wearing a beautiful yellow-toned renaissance dress, her hair pulled back high above her head looking like one of those white epoch wigs – a closer look would confirm that her hair was actually a very white downy piece of cloud. Come to think of it, her shoes were also made of that cloud stuff… Her fingers flowed across the keys, not missing a note. And trust me when I say that this could not have been at all easy, for as she played the powerful beauty of the sound of the musical strings swirled Faith and her harpsichord upwards. However, nothing seemed to distract her, not even the fact that they were soaring further and further away from the ground, spiralling gently to the edge of the sky. But no sooner had Faith arrived than two bright-winged beings slipped their arms in hers and helped her float back down the step-less spiralled staircase.
           Her gliding companions dropped her off by a bench on the threshold of a cliff. And before she could blink they had dissolved into thin air, leaving behind a scent of oranges and cinnamon.
          And what did Faith do next, you ask? Well, there was nothing much she could do but sit down on the bench, grab the long shiny needles that were sitting there beside her and start knitting a huge blanket of grass and flowers. Knit, knit, knit…
          I cannot say how long that went on for, but once she had finished knitting the last stitch, the girl lay down on the bench and pulled the colourful green blanket over herself.
          How peaceful she looked. She must have been really tired for whilst she was asleep first came autumn, then winter…
          Time seemed to tiptoe by quietly so as not to wake her up. But it is widely known that you cannot sleep forever, so one day a Bambi came round to uncover her. As it threw the green blanket with a rainbow of flowers on the ground the world knew that spring had arrived.
          Getting up as fast as she could and with a smile on her face, she knelt down beside the little deer and began to stroke its body. As she touched the spots on its back, they fell into her hands and changed into gold coins right before her eyes. She had to be dreaming, she thought. She rubbed her eyes, the coins tightly locked in her hand. No, she was wide-awake! With no time to process everything that was happening, and before she could muster up any more thoughts, the coins turned into two beautiful white doves, their cotton-cloud wings cut out like paper patterns. And how beautifully and elegantly they danced with their friend the wind! What a brilliant performance! Faith smiled the smile people always smile when they feel carefree and merry, concluding her enthused demonstration of gratitude by twirling in the air and clapping her hands in delight.
          It was in the midst of all this excitement that she felt a powerful magnetic force pulling her downwards and with a thump she fell onto the chair where I was sitting. We were both so startled that we only managed to vocalise a surprised ‘Oh!’. Then, in what must have taken a mere split second she touched my forehead – right here, where the eyes meet – passing the images of her story on to me. Then with a wink, she dissolved into sparkling glitter…
          She was gone, leaving me sitting there at my desk with a tatty old notebook, a used Bic biro in one hand and you, my dearest Jessica (add your child's name instead), on my mind.
          This could only mean that this story was meant for you.
          …So here it is, wrapped in a big bear hug.

- COPYRIGHT/Registado no IGAC

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