Fue en la tarde del aguacero. Juan, tenía diez año para ese momento, se puso a jugar con sus crayones. Pintó un sapo, unas nubes, unos árboles y de último, en medio de todos y al lado de él, pintó a María .
"Que linda se ve María", pensaba Juan. Corriendo llevó el dibujo donde su abuela, luego donde su mamá y se regresó a ponerlo en la esquina de la ventana para entregárselo a María cuando estuvieran en clase. Lo puso y se alejó para detallarla. Así estuvo un largo rato, contemplando su regalo. En su mente recreó el momento preciso de entregarlo, las sonrisas y el abrazo y las gracias.
Un momento perfecto que se quebró cuando una fuerte brisa hizo volar el dibujo. Juan trató de alcanzarla, pero no pudo. Comenzó a llorar observando que la lluvia destruía, gota a gota, su regalo.
Mary's gift
It was on the afternoon of the downpour. Juan, who was ten at the time, began to play with his crayons. He painted a toad, some clouds, some trees and lastly, in the midst of everyone and next to him, he painted Mary.
"How beautiful Maria looks," Juan thought. Running, he took the drawing to his grandmother, then to his mother and went back to put it on the corner of the window to give it to Maria when they were in class. He put it on and walked away to detail it. Thus he stood for a long time, contemplating his gift. In his mind he recreated the precise moment to deliver it, the smiles and the hug and the thanks.
A perfect moment that was broken when a strong breeze blew the drawing away. Juan tried to reach her, but couldn't. He began to cry, observing that the rain destroyed, drop by drop, his gift.
Foto de pixabay y editada con PSD