The gift

Gandhi once said "Love is the strongest force the world possesses, and yet it is the humblest imaginable".

Dear fellow explorers, as the new year is silently ushered  in, I have been fortunate enough to spend some days with my loved ones, my family, who I hadn't seen for 6 months. From my youngest niece who is an energetic, playful two-year-old, to my dad, still healthy at 79. I got to tell them the stories I had saved, and to listen to theirs.

I hope that you also have been able to put your backpack down, lay your walking stick on the floor, clean the dirt from your face, have a drink of cold, crystalline water and share your adventures and discoveries with your family and close friends. And listen to theirs. This need is deep within yourself, in your genes, being passed on from generation to generation across the ages.

Tell your stories. Protect them from oblivion. Tell your stories.

It is January in Gandhi's Gardens, yet unusually sunny. I can see old people walking slowly, basking in the sun, recovering from the Christmas hangover. Not a lot to look forward to. Just the slowness of the few first weeks of the year. An illusion that their lifetimes could be extended for a few weeks.

Gandhi's statue is warm. His sly, attentive eyes, have been very active this week. He is searching for signs, words, and touches of affection. The new year needs it. And so he has asked one of the most attentive trees, the boolean poplar, known as Alamo Plateado, to keep vigil from its top most branches and trap those signs in his silvery leaves. Alamo, as a good, loyal tree, came back to Gandhi with a story:

"I apologise Gandhi, for I could not hear their names while they were here, in the gardens. They were a couple, a short, tiny woman, with hair dyed black, over sixty years of age and an older man, walking with a crutch and being supported by her. He seemed to have difficulty hearing. She was repeating some sentences ...grandchildren don't need nannying anymore... we've never travelled by plane... saved some money from my pension... All along her partner was turning his head sideways and clicking his tongue in disapproval. And I was ready to turn my leaves in another direction, when she took him to a bench and had him sit down, facing the sun. She rummaged in her handbag and picked up a big envelope, with big black writing on it. She opened it and took some papers out. He grunted What's that? Don't need no trip, I'm happy here. You know we're too old to travel. She continued Look, old stubborn man, look at this. He took the paper close to his glasses and read "Atenas". There was a long silence, as he looked up and stared in front of him. Fixing his eyes in a distant point. He began to remember the story. The story his grandfather told him many times when he was a little kid.  The story of how he had met his grandmother, in between the columns of a half-destroyed temple. He hadn't remembered it for decades. It was his favourite. And he had never been to Greece.

Love is the strongest force the world possesses, and yet it is the humblest imaginable.


Tell your stories. Protect them from oblivion. Tell your stories.