Do we give the proper value?



Aren’t we forgetting the real value of what surrounds us? Do we look at things with objectivity? Can we remember that we are just lucky to be born here, in this side of the planet? Do we hardly leave our stressed lives and our small world to think about injustice, war, hunger, that millions of human beings are suffering? If so, it is time to stop that tendency and save what should be better in each of us, in all human kind, that is, feelings of compassion, solidarity, capacity of feeling.

And why does it happen? Is it frightening to go on to the other side? I think that it is more comfortable for us, to treat those problems as a hermetical environment, a place where we don’t want to go often. But I’m sure that, even if we are blind, one day it will overlap on us.

We treat our lives as microcosms of the world, we want it to be perfect, and we work for it. However, in order to be really happy, we must use our skills, use our intelligence, our heart, basically we are not outsiders of the humanity and its problems, but instead we have to assume our responsibilities and start working for a better world, to leave a legacy to the future.

After we realise what the object is, we can start thinking in all those protagonists of an unfair world. And then, we will remember when we take a simple glass of water, that millions have no drinking water at all and must walk several miles to obtain only a few litters and most of them are vulnerable children. We must imperatively appreciate the small things near us. Absolutely never forget to appreciate life, family, music, silence, peace, beauty, nature, children, company, laughs, friendship, books…(and so on).

Basically, I wrote about this theme because of the book I just finished reading, called “The Book Thief”, from Marcus Zusak, an Australian writer. This book tells us about a little girl living through the World War II. One passage from the book describes us how important small things are. Liesel receives from a neighbour the ration portion of coffee, a true treasure in those days, in exchange for reading a book, sometimes in Frau Holtzapfel`s house and other times inside the anti-bomb shelter.

Somehow we will manage to be complete human beings, despite this modern life which is fragmented by technologies and stress, and I’m sure, we will finally be able to continuously communicate and share our feelings.

Paula

18/o1/2009

Thursday, 8 January 2009

A noisy story


Katherine requested us to post our own stories according to the guidelines in the page 146 of our books. Here is my own: hope you enjoy it.

She had no idea about where she was, but it seemed like a quiet place. The conforting sounds of the wind rustling in the trees made her feel like she was home. The sky was blue, and all she could see were the green fields with a house nearby and a lake with the jumping fish plopping into the water.
What could be wrong? Despite all that piece and quiet, she was somewhat scared. What was that place? And why were the clouds slowly gathering in the blue sky? She tried to calm herself down by sitting beneath the tree. Quite surprisingly, that didn't make her feel better. It was getting windy and cold. She looked up... only to find out the sky was no longer blue. "Looks like rain". Indeed. Thankfully there was a house she could use as a shelter. Anybody there? No response after five knocks. She pushes the door as it slowly creaks open. The house was empty. Outside, it was getting nasty. The rain had become a thunderstorm. She became increasingly frightened as the thunders rumbled. Why was she there? Would someone find her? She figured it would be best to lay down and wait for someone. The moment she turns her back, the door banged. It was a man she didn't know, and he had a menacing look. Without time to think of a better strategy, she screamed, only to hear a beep.

A beep?

Her alarm clock kept beeping. She found herself in her own bed back home. "I have to stop watching those movies..."
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A new experience


Hello!

I´m Paula , I´m 42 years-old and I´m living in Lisbon but I spend my weekends in a country house!

I feel passion for my daughter and my family.

During the year, I use to go several times to Prague ,in order to visit my child that´s currently studying Medicine there. I just love that city, we can go everyday to concerts or ballet cheaper than the cinema. My hobbies are books, books, books, music , music , music ( classical/opera). My favourite performer was, is Maria Callas.

I also spend my free time, taking care of my garden and cooking, when possible I attend to some workshops to learn more about foreign cuisines and painting.

I´m always dreaming about the next travel!

At this point of my life I´m completely focused in my studies, I´m loving this new experience.

Best Wishes!


Prague

Merry Christmas

When snow is shaken
From the balsam trees
And they're cut down
And brought into our houses
When clustered sparks
Of many-colored fire
Appear at night
In ordinary windows
We hear and sing
The customary carols
They bring us ragged miracles
And hay and candles
And flowering weeds of poetry
That are loved all the more
Because they are so common
But there are carols
That carry phrases
Of the haunting music
Of the other world
A music wild and dangerous
As a prophet's message
Or the fresh truth of children
Who though they come to us
From our own bodies
Are altogether new
With their small limbs
And birdlike voices
They look at us
With their clear eyes
And ask the piercing questions
God alone can answer.


Anne Porter


Merry Christmas ,
Paula