I am a child just like any other

April 8, 2010 | Thursday

IT’S SUMMERTIME AND I am a small child still. I live on Canal Street in a two-bedroom home and I love to run around outside. I love running out into the street and how the sun kisses my skin. My brothers turn the water hose on and we play in the water. I was a happy kid. We stayed outside too much for my grandmother’s taste, but how do you keep three bundles of enthusiastic energy inside a small home? In attempting just that, my grandmother told me that at midday, when the church rang its bells, the devil was let loose so that he could get all the bad kids who were outside! With wide eyes I eased closer to her just to be safe. My grandmother passed away shortly after. I still do remember her long hair and kind smile. I recall attending her funeral too. Most of all, I remember the day that I was playing at the elementary school playground when I suddenly heard the church bell ring out. I recall dropping everything and running home as fast as my small legs could carry me. I spotted some bushes and I thought surely the devil would see me running, so I hid in the bushes until the church bells quit ringing. I poked my head out and after not seeing the devil about, I ran all the way home! Once safe at home, I danced and raised my little fist. I am a child like any other.

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3 Responses to “I am a child just like any other”

  1. Isabelle Says:

    Hello Rogelio 🙂 I remember your telling me of this episode of your grandma’s story… I remember your smile, laugh and gestures as you explained the scene to me. Hopefully it makes you feel good when you recall these memories, feeling away from the beast, even for the short time you write your letter. Muchos saludos y cariño de JM, JB, Antonio, JJ, Chesca e Isa. We love you.

  2. Kiki Says:

    can you believe it; you made me smile widely…. 🙂 what a bunch of precious memories, neatly put together in their eternal youthful freshness, in shiny beauty and untarnished by later experiences in life.
    I am also smiling at Isabelle’s recall of your telling… sounds so cheerful; hang on to those precious moments, take strength from them, look at them again like at a photo – but even more importantly, it’s an ‘inner’ photo, one that doesn’t get bristle, yellowing, cracking – it stays young, innocent, happy and it stays with you/within you.
    Love, Kiki

  3. Françoise Says:

    Childhood records are the best!
    I like the way you are telling stories, your stories. Descriptions are so lively that we can follow you, running in the bushes with your “small legs”.
    The problem is that… after having seen your last pictures, from them the one with the big beard – yes, before you became a bold painter – I can hardly imagine that, one day, … you had small legs!
    Love and smile,
    Chesca

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