What happened: when I was in primary 4. A social studies teacher we trained for weeks for a flag-raising, vegetable saliésemos dresses and vegetables. Teachers forget that neck, the warmth of his being and his devoted dedication to teaching. Anyway, so far I was the best exhibitor. Since the small part of my speech and had only learned, ie stored and trained. All my friends cheered me, which left me with countless emotions and more when they had the power leakage of childhood. The day of the flag-raising we put our costumes, some dressed as tomatoes, beans, cabbage, and cucumbers of course since I was one of them. Leaving our classroom that was right opposite the school official platform for their constant celebrations. Observe a number of students that were in my mind the image of a swarm of ants stunningly laid their eyes on me. The teacher came out and introduced us. We are located in a row. The teacher took the microphone and handed it to the girl in tomatoes, which immediately doubled the level of his voice and said: I am the tomato and serve for many things, including stews and salads. Then snap beans, cabbage and cucumber of course that will damage your eternal artistic presentation. Because when I was handed the microphone to take it in my hands and I cling to my chest and looking at the crowd and tried to speak but could not hum and muletear. Which was the laughter of over 400 students of the institution, and we blame them. Because if I had seen a child frightened mouse faced such-see me had died of laughter. Soon the angelic face and innocent girl's tomato appeared on the scene and I shaved the microphone. And authoritatively expounded my repertoire. After that traumatic time. I was at a dead end. Face my friends, which at the end of our presentation went to the classroom to put their uniforms. My "I" was not an "I" so great. It was an "I" and lowercase small. When you enter the hall all my friends began to shout a multitude of things which seemed to machine guns against a conscience something hit by this terrible incident and its obvious consequences. We are very disappointed in you told each other shouting dañaste presentation, serving us many months of preparation for the presentation you hurt us. Suddenly a more mature awareness and more experienced in this kind of morning events of daily life, defended me. He was my teacher. The days passed and the gift of children I shine my peace. Because my sin forgot and forgave me. Tal-see why Jesus said we must become like children to see the kingdom of God.
For strange reasons I had to leave public school and leave my eternal friends. My mother wanted me to educate me in a private school. And certainly if it was. Five years later, I told my mother not to invest more money in me. They had already learned enough and let me return to a public school because my friends were there, none had changed except Elkin school one of our best companions whom death I take the breath of life. During those five years advantage to overcome the fear that often express what the soul feels. And it just kept flowing I thought, right and wrong. He did without any fear, here was no longer a matter of logic, truth or falsehood. On the contrary, it was a matter of humanity and humility. My mother accepted when he argues that it was a good student, both in private and public school. That the responsibility lay with me. Returning my friends were excited, and a little more mature, more experienced etc. As always hoisted flag remained the highlight of the institution and a la carte Us. For if things were in school. One day passed through the halls asking who would participate in the event. "I" with a lowercase letter. I said just participating and also you would a poem for the women's day. When Young retired 11th grade, many of my friends joked. If you ever do the same cucumber shame you bear it alone. And worst of all, eleven girls would be laughed and groom can not be neither. And those who have studied the bachelor know that things are thus to be boyfriend an eleven is something that you can receive thousands of glances at school or college. Well the fact is that that day came and suddenly mentioned my name. Passing on stage one teacher took the microphone in hand and handed it to me. I looked at the 1000 students of all courses, sighed and sat on the dais, then people so I can see after students asked to sit forward. For if it was, take the poem I wrote and started reading. On completion. Listen to a thrill of eleven girls who started 11th and clapping like it was something contagious in two seconds the thousand students applauded unanimous. 15 seconds of fame were unforgettable. Since then girls of all classrooms looking for them I write beautiful poetry. A sort of anonymous Neruda. Well the best part of my story was when I got to the living room, all my friends cheered, hugged me and said, Good we won eleven girls for you. Then my soul rest, because that was my purpose. Not so much that fleeting fame and if the ability to prove to myself that if I could do it.
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