Chileans, and many friends from other countries are experiencing the pain of loss of life due to the earthquake in a similar manner, remembering loved ones and putting in place the affected . Wondering how I'd feel if that had happened to me?. Total
identification.
But each of us take an example as the most painful, you will never forget, that it hurts the soul and reaches the very core of being, and leaves a scar that will never be erased, and escort you to the end of life. Most times, it will a memory that will help us understand the magnitude of things of life, and take shelter to try and make that not happen to us. And touch wood, and we return to remember the pain, but we went ahead, helping, praying and acting.
decided my soul never to forget a person who was interviewed on a news program, a person of white hair, short beard, pipes, wearing a yellow shirt and shorts, in a jovial attitude, walking along the ground destroyed by tsunami in the south, searching for something. Cut to interview with an approach to his face covered with her hands, crying silent but poignant, penetrating slowly and irreversibly within me.
And the man cried, "my little point, I was my little point."
at that time I tried to imagine, a bit dazed by the pain of other news and heartbreaking stories, that this "little dot" was an animal, a pet, because the man looked older and could not imagine that being a parent a toddler.
"I want nothing more, I want more," replied the old man was in a scene of devastation.
The journalist went on to explain the reality of this great man while inside the home, the water came in, collapsed walls and took her four grandchildren, in a superhuman effort he tried to rescue them, and managed to take a tres de ellos.
Pero el restante, el menor de sus nietos, ser perdió en la noche, llevado por el mar al ocaso abrupto de su vida.
Ese pequeño niño era su puntito, el que se le escapó de las manos.
Silencio...
¿Cómo me sentiría yo, si mi puntito, mi hijito se me escapara de las manos en medio del maremoto durante la noche? Y no saber si está cerca o lejos, si respira o se hundió, si se tomó de un arbol, o simplemente se dejó llevar sin entender qué estaba pasando, perdiéndose en la inmensidad de la oscuridad, para siempre.
...lo nuestro no es nada comparado a lo que le pasó a los compatriotas del sur.
Thank God we're fine, and thank God and faith, and action things will be better. FORCE
identification.
But each of us take an example as the most painful, you will never forget, that it hurts the soul and reaches the very core of being, and leaves a scar that will never be erased, and escort you to the end of life. Most times, it will a memory that will help us understand the magnitude of things of life, and take shelter to try and make that not happen to us. And touch wood, and we return to remember the pain, but we went ahead, helping, praying and acting.
decided my soul never to forget a person who was interviewed on a news program, a person of white hair, short beard, pipes, wearing a yellow shirt and shorts, in a jovial attitude, walking along the ground destroyed by tsunami in the south, searching for something. Cut to interview with an approach to his face covered with her hands, crying silent but poignant, penetrating slowly and irreversibly within me.
And the man cried, "my little point, I was my little point."
at that time I tried to imagine, a bit dazed by the pain of other news and heartbreaking stories, that this "little dot" was an animal, a pet, because the man looked older and could not imagine that being a parent a toddler.
"I want nothing more, I want more," replied the old man was in a scene of devastation.
The journalist went on to explain the reality of this great man while inside the home, the water came in, collapsed walls and took her four grandchildren, in a superhuman effort he tried to rescue them, and managed to take a tres de ellos.
Pero el restante, el menor de sus nietos, ser perdió en la noche, llevado por el mar al ocaso abrupto de su vida.
Ese pequeño niño era su puntito, el que se le escapó de las manos.
Silencio...
¿Cómo me sentiría yo, si mi puntito, mi hijito se me escapara de las manos en medio del maremoto durante la noche? Y no saber si está cerca o lejos, si respira o se hundió, si se tomó de un arbol, o simplemente se dejó llevar sin entender qué estaba pasando, perdiéndose en la inmensidad de la oscuridad, para siempre.
...lo nuestro no es nada comparado a lo que le pasó a los compatriotas del sur.
Thank God we're fine, and thank God and faith, and action things will be better. FORCE
CHILE! VIVA CHILE MIERDA
!
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