an unexpected friend
Mariana hadn’t been able to sleep for hours. Even though he had class at school the next morning, he ended up jumping out of bed, heading for the computer. Ever since her best friend had thrown a party without inviting her, she felt humiliated and full of anger. When talking about it with her, he had told her that the party had been Jenny’s idea, a girl from class Mariana didn’t talk to.
“So that a difficult situation would not occur,” he argued, “this time I did not invite you, but it has been a special situation.” While Mariana was turning on the computer, thunder rumbled through the open window. Going to close it, she saw a strange figure: a young man dressed in clown I was waiting at the night bus stop.
Before sitting down in front of the computer, he wondered who was that clown who came home at dawn without having been able to change. He logged into Facebook and went directly to his friends list. She saw that there were too many. Many people he barely knew, and others he knew well could not be called that.
“I have to clean up,” he told himself as a second clap of thunder started a fine rain.
He got up for a moment to see if the clown it was still out there, out in the open. Indeed, he was still standing at the stop. Her makeup threatened to fall apart if the bus didn’t arrive soon. Disturbed by this image, she went back to the computer ready to clean her phonebook of false friends. She began by blocking Jenny, who, absurdly, was still part of her contacts. She then got rid of all those whom she did not know personally.
When the number of contacts was reduced to fifty, Mariana told herself that not all of them could be called friends either. How many put “likes” on your post? Always the same ten or twelve. The rest was as if it did not exist. She decided to mercilessly eliminate them. Then she went to the wall of her best friend. appeared hugging Jenny, dancing at the party where she had not been invited.
He was about to block it as well when he heard the storm finally breaking loose. She ran to the window to check if the clown was still there. Seeing him drenched under the storm, he forgot for a moment about cleaning his friends and decided to go down with an umbrella. He then realized that he was very young. At most a couple of years older than her. After offering her the open umbrella, he asked her:
“What are you doing at this time of night dressed like that?”
“I’ve just come from performing at a birthday dinner,” the boy answered, “and I’m coming back by bus because they pay me very little.” Also today, in the restaurant they stole my bag with my clothes to change into.
Mariana felt sorry for that wet clown.
“And wouldn’t you like to dedicate yourself to something else?” She asked him-. You still have time to study another trade.
“There is no better job than this,” said the clown, putting his hand to his heart. I think whoever stole my clothes to play a trick on me was at the party, but there I have also seen several laugh until they cried. Maybe they’ve had a terrible day and for a while I’ve helped lighten their load, like an unexpected friend. –At this point, the clown looked at the girl, realizing that she was just a teenager– And you? What are you doing up at this hour?
—I saw that you were getting wet and I came down to bring you an umbrella. That’s all.
“Then you’re like me.” You’ve come down to help someone you don’t even know. For the sole satisfaction of doing it, without asking for anything in return.
This phrase made her reflect on the negative feelings she had harbored in the past days. When the silhouette of the bus was already outlined at the end of the avenue, Mariana took him by the sleeve and said:
“I have something to ask you… Have you ever felt that you give the best of yourself to someone and then it doesn’t correspond to you?
“Every day is part of my trade.
“And you’re not angry?”
—No, because I have understood that generosity is not a common round trip.
-What do you mean by that? she asked him.
—The good that you give returns to you, but not always from the people who receive your favors. That is the magic of giving without expecting anything in return –he said as the bus stopped in front of the stop–. The universe rewards you through other friends, even through someone who doesn’t know you.
-Really? Has it ever happened to you?
The clown kissed the girl on the forehead and, before getting on the bus, he confessed to her:
-Yes this night. I have given what I had elsewhere, and you have brought me the umbrella.
learn to lose
Carlos watched from the stands the last minutes of his daughter’s game. At sixteen, he had just signed for a youth soccer team that was winning 1-0 that afternoon.
When the referee whistled the end of the match, the players went to hug their rivals
Proud with his daughter’s debut, Although the only goal would have been scored by the opposing team at an own goal, Carlos waited for her in front of the changing rooms to take her home. However, when he left her, already showered and changed, he told her:
“I’ll be home in an hour, Dad. We have a snack with the team.
—Sure, I suppose you want to celebrate the victory with your companions.
—I go with them, yes, but also with the rivals. In fact, we invite them to snack.
-How is that? he asked surprised.
—It’s a rule of Joan, our coach. Those who win invite those who lose to snack.
—I understand… It’s about comforting them in defeat. A cracked voice surprised Carlos, who turned around to discover an old man in a tracksuit.
—On the contrary, what it is about is learning from those who loseThat’s why my girls will pay for the snack. By the way, are you in a hurry? I usually go up that mountain after the games in our field, and I like to be accompanied.
Carlos snorted, overwhelmed, as he appraised the small mountain right next to the stadium. He wouldn’t be more than two hundred meters tall, so he could be up and down in an hour. Not to be rude, he accepted the invitation and the two of them walked silently down the path.
When they had covered most of the slope, Joan explained:
“Once a month I ask the girls to go up and down this mountain. It is part of your vital formation.
“Like inviting losers, right?” –said Carlos, who did not understand the point of going up and down a mountain, beyond physical exercise.
“Actually it’s about the same thing. The mountain is a metaphor for life and teaches us to win and lose. During the first half of life, we climb the mountain and gain things along the way. We accumulate knowledge, possessions, successes… We are young and energetic, and when we reach the top we look down on the world and shout: “I have arrived up here! I’ve got this and that!”
That cry coincided, indeed, with his arrival at the top of the mountain, from where the stadium could be seen from a bird’s eye view. At that time, the gardener was watering the field.
The old man’s voice brought Carlos out of that calm after the effort with an indiscreet question:
-How old are you?
-Fifty-four. I had my oldest daughter.
“That’s fantastic… So you’ve already started down the mountain, as we will do now -he said inviting him to start the descent-. Are you prepared to lose?
-What do you mean exactly? Carlos asked, somewhat irritated.
“Unless you live to be a hundred and twenty, you’ve probably already reached the top and shown the world your accomplishments.” He is satisfied?
“I suppose so,” he said as they went down a different path. I have managed to work in what I like and in my sector I am respected. I have paid for my house and my daughter is already flying alone. In a couple of years she will go to university and I will see little of her hair, because she wants to study outside of it.
Assuring each step, the old man replied:
—In this phase you will have to learn to lose, and not only your daughter.
“Have you set out to depress me, Joan?”
-No! Just enjoy each stage. Or is it that going up a mountain is more beautiful than going down?
Carlos did not answer.
—When we descend the mountain of life—continued the coach -, we not only see our parents leave while our children begin to emancipate themselves. Along the way we leave behind friends, people with whom we had a lot in common and who have chosen other routes…
—But it hurts to say goodbye to what we love.
—Of course it hurts, but pain proves that we are alive and constantly evolving. On the way down the mountain we fire people, our bodies don’t work like before… although we gain other things in return.
-What things?
—Greater understanding of life. On the way up we accumulate things and on the way down we lose weight to walk lighter. If we have learned the lessons along the way, we will need less and less and we will enjoy every moment.
When saying goodbye, the coach put his hand on Carlos’s shoulder and said:
It is true that no one teaches us to lose in life… but for us it is as important as knowing how to win.
the inner bag
Alfonso blew out with sad resignation the two candles with the 4 and the 0 on the cake. He’d never been a partygoer, but he had hoped for something brighter for his entry into quarantine. He had summoned half a dozen people, but his invitations had been turned down with all sorts of excuses. All he had to celebrate his birthday, apart from that cake, were two formal congratulations – one from his bank, another from his manager – and a gift from a distant relative who had hurt him deeply: a weekend to two people in a spa
He put the coupon in his back pocket to throw in a trash can when he went outside. Alfonso had no girlfriend or friends who wanted to share a boring weekend in hot springs. He attributed his lack of social life to overwork. Since the crisis had broken out, his profession as a financial analyst forced him to be from sunrise to sunset in front of a screen full of figures. His own numbers weren’t bad, he told himself as he went down the street for an evening stroll. At 40 years old, he had almost paid the mortgage on the apartment. He also owned a parking space of his own, a sports car, and a motorcycle that he had only taken out a couple of times. His pension plan was beginning to take shape, and a cash inheritance that he had for a fixed term guaranteed him good interest.
Despite having all that, the night of his birthday he felt empty. Perhaps it was because that Sunday the few bars in his neighborhood had already closed. Alfonso wanted to have a beer before going to bed, with the murmur of lonely bar patrons chatting with the bartender. Searching for a place of life in the urban wilderness, he realized that he had strayed too far from home. He looked at the clock and saw that it was already midnight. That long night walk had been a sad birthday celebration for him. Resigned to start another week as a forty-year-old, Alfonso suddenly felt…