this morning as he lit a few candles and I was ready to continue with my usual routine, a scream from outside caught my attention. I'm curious as well, with the last candle in hand, I opened the balcony door and looked out onto the balcony. Below it, front of the portal, was an old man lying on the floor in a puddle of sangre.Al apparently fainted man without knowing how or why and fell, dropping by his weight alone. Which caused a gap in the head, then started to bleed.
For a moment I was stunned watching her vacant eyes up to the sky, holding the candle. In just a few seconds, the owners of the surrounding local who had seen it all, came to his rescue. Some said that no one moved, others will leave you room to breathe and more anxious, pulled from their pockets a cell phone to call an ambulance. It took almost twenty minutes to it arrived and at all times, the man was accompanied.
may at this moment, think that this is something that happens often. But if I may follow, you will see that deep in every act, there is always more beautiful and important.
bad thing about living in a neighborhood near the outside of the city, is that the ambulance can always take whatever you want. The good news is that after all we all know, even in sight.
During those twenty minutes, in which the old man stared at the sky, I could not stop thinking, stop looking on one side, looking for the ambulance, let alone to observe in detail to every person who was with him. There was dependent rose every day without a morning, like many. A young woman, who did not let go even for a moment their hands of him. A Peruvian consoling an old woman. And a prostitute, constantly calling 112.
Perhaps I have missed some detail, or maybe you added any more. I do not know, the fact is that today, for the first time, I felt proud. Proud of the people around us to see that there is still a human background in all of us. Today, there below, where a man was lying on the ground bleeding, he had not only people but also foreigners, prostitutes, children, elderly, drug addicts. There were all that to normally, we take in our lives. Ram through prostitutes, but we did not even stop to think that basically it is people like us. We complain about the foreigners, without asking even if they are happy, we do not realize that they are people like us. We complain about our boss without appreciating that if not for him, maybe we would not have a house in which to live. We complain about the drug, when in fact we all are.
Virtually live everyday people away from us. When in reality, everyone, absolutely everyone, we are people within.
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