My mother, meanwhile, did not stop to mark the space with what he called "change." Once a month, moved all the furniture in the house from place to place. The armchair travel bagasse could be found outside the entrance of the apartment in January, by the phone in February, between the living and dining room in March or April on the balcony. The neighbors were thrilled with his persistence and, sometimes, when they came home crying, "But it seems that everything is new, how have you done?". Now that the years have passed, the phrase that makes me a strange sadness: her powerless before the fall of his home world, moving things from a place to another, as if doing so could stop the inevitable decline-I, instead, super happy at his side, proud to be a mother while the nearby sorceress supporters sympathize with the mirage that was introduced on our increasing poverty. The
always thank you for trying, without wavering for an instant, to make my life easier in the midst of so many problems, not have shoes for school, not having a coat, do not get the milk for the breakfast, finally, have absolutely nothing. If I were in his place one day I hope to have the balance to be with myself and with others exactly as it did not stop lei.Tuttavia understand now, after so long and in my adulthood, we have fed a placebo infinity would never solve our problems and if I look at large scale is the same as placebo that is consuming our nation: change things that should not be changed.
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