Emiliano dawn every day in a different corner of the neighborhood. He had given shelter at night, with a ceiling of stars overhead. Emily slept there that night came on a daily reality. And it was the heat of his friends around him faithful giving physical and emotional warmth. Six, seven, eight dogs friends accompanied him in his wandering day and night's sleep. And Emiliano treated them with extraordinary care and pampering, even at the expense of their own deprivation.
But who was Emiliano? Through the district commented different stories about his life. But all agreed on one point: it was a man born into a middle class family. He had been college and a career in the National Cartographic Institute.
At her young age, with a steady job, a family home (without a family, of course) and a standard of living of the average, something must go through the mind of Emily. He began collecting as many abandoned dogs in its path, until the house ended up more like a hostel than a domestic dog. Emiliano Neighbors expressed their grievances without any result. Then came complaints and claims to evict the dogs. Until one day, that great soul and mind that he frequently refused to think in accordance with established ways, decided to live together outside the limited horizons.
and began a new stage, leaving his job and leaving his house to live in freedom. No neighbors above and below that are upset by saberle happy. Yes, the street, the street would henceforth be her home.
Educated always dignified, without concessions to the temptation to beg, Emiliano suffered only if one day he was no possibility of feeding their fellow dogs. And they grew in numbers every summer. All were abandoned by their masters Amantis, found love by Emily. Unfortunately, the number is always balanced by the lack of any of them. The lack of hygiene and veterinary care was responsible for preventing the numbers grew too.
early hours of the morning, Emily was frequently seen sleeping on a street corner, surrounded by his friends for never missing a threadbare blanket even though he let his body rest directly on the ground .
His conversation educated and vigilant always, was to count on the sympathy and generosity of those who regularly spent daily by his side. This was what enabled him to survive.
And that night in late December, in full Christmas holiday, the air froze the breath. Streets appeared deserted, and those who have made them need to leave their homes, walked hurriedly and virtually sheathed to the eyes. Even the colored light bulbs, and their mission to bring Christmas spirit to the streets, seemed to have been overcome by the cold night and offered a glimmer, poor, cold, too. Some, had even decided to stop shine forever. And showed a Christmas figures impossible, truncated, broken.
Back home, I went to her side. His friends the dogs had been carefully covered with shared blankets and huddled against each other trying to spread the heat did not have. In his eyes came open not sleep. Cold and hunger are not good companions of dreams. At his side, Emiliano rubbed his hands vigorously. He had always refused to come to spend the night at the shelter where the Municipal Social Services offered him food and shelter. We have seized their friends, they would have been sent to the pound. And he would never consent to that, they were not abandoned, I had him.
replied to my greeting wishing me good night. Appreciated, as always attentive without servility, usually deposited the money in your hand long black nails and skin covered with dirt for several dates (washing hands in a fountain in the street in winter, is not exactly a pleasure). His friends just followed me with his eyes.
I also wished him good night and went on my way in a hurry. And suddenly hear my voice expressing that desire to someone in those circumstances, something stirred within me, heart, my mind and used to seeing Emiliano happy in any situation. It was my usual currency how to soothe my conscience the responsibility that I played on the status of all Emilianos?. But that my expressed desire to "good night" sounded so banal, that it was too much even for my conscience, wealthy and possibly some self-demanding.
diverted my path and entered one of those supermarket night shift. Pouches filled with some sausage, bread, milk, some bauble y. .. also a bit of wine to furnish heat. In another bag put a sufficient number of cans of dog food and walked glad to meet Emily. Remained in the same place, still rubbing his hands vigorously.
Satisfied, I handed the bags and trying to avoid the low tone at that time was determined to overshadow my voice, "if you have not eaten yet" I said trying not to hurt deliberate playfulness dignity.
Emily looked at me because he said and smiled, just smiled. Quickly began to rummage in the bags, putting to one side, ignoring each food item that was inside. So until it was the turn they were the cans to the dogs. I looked up and smiled again, this time grin. "Thank you" she repeated, "would have been enough of this, I'm fine." He turned, and ignoring, in a hurry to prepare their expectant friends the desired food.
And now, I could not express other goodnight. I just walked back to my house where I waited for the heat. The love of my family, that of heating the home, the soup of my dinner The Christmas music of those children dressed as shepherds who sang that night on television. Suddenly I appreciated everything he owned and knew, as never before, what were my feelings surface of need.
But Emily had taught me. And I learned that I lacked the gifts in which he was immensely rich: its ability to be happy with nothing, his sense of friendship putting the needs of their own friends, your spirit free with no calendars or clocks that come to remind dates, times ...
And my calendar, merciless, was determined to remember it was Christmas, but there are 365 nights in the year ...
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