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Story #2: Italian Job

Greetings, everyone ) Once again, I am honored to have your attention. It means so much to me, to be able to share my lifetime with you. I understand that I am not a celebrity, so thank you so much for your time )))

This is difficult, as my eyes are getting blurry with tears. My mom’s most prized possession (only second to my books) were her beloved milkman books. I loved seeing her face light up, as she exclaimed about how much wisdom is in those stories! Now, I have stories… I don’t think that any of us are ready for the day when most of our memories are filled with people that are no longer with us. The only thing that makes me feel better is my very, very limited understanding of God’s systems. God, thank you for expressing yourself through us and through this, magnificent Universe. I am forever grateful. And now, onto story #2…

Italian Job

“It was about 1987, my parents gave me what I thought was the best gift, ever, a book of commonly used, English phrases and what they mean, in Russian (Русско-Английский Разговорник)! I loved Conan Doyle, Michael Jackson, Beatles, Modern Talking… in 1988, 3rd homeschooling in Moscow, Russia, I chose English as the language to learn, of course. It was later that year my mom walked into the living room and announced that we are moving to America. I was beside myself with excitement! It was the greatest news I’ve heard in my life. So my uncle, living in Chicago since the 1970s, he sent us an invitation (through the Embassy) to come to the United States. And so, we were off……

Our migration path took us through Europe. One of the countries was Italy. I was using a “wheelchair” that a handyman built for us. Basically, it was a chair that reclined, with 10 inch wheels that didn’t turn. Before entering United States, we had to go through a series of interviews. Interviews took place in the government offices in the center of Rome. We were staying in Netuno, about an hour from Rome. On a Public transportation, freezing, cold nights, hard to breathe, it’s so HOT afternoons, with makeshift wheelchair; it was grueling. For the interviews, we had to come in the morning and wait for our turn, for hours, standing in line.

One time, during waiting in the line, there was a talkative person, standing a little bit behind us in the waiting line. He was very friendly, chatting with everyone in the line. His place in the waiting line was about a couple of spots behind us. A bit later, he comes up to my parents and starts talking small talk, “where are you from,” “where are you going?” After about 10 minutes of chatting, he asks my parents if he could take me for a walk around the government yard, to see some pretty flowers and historic statues. My mom said it was fine for 10 minutes and she will be watching. “Of course, of course,” he replied. And so, we went for a walk. Years later, my mom said that it was an exhausting, nerve-racking day, as everyone were afraid of being rejected from entering US. She was watching the whole time, but in one moment, while my parents were looking for some document, they took the eyes off me. When they looked up, I was gone.

My mom said that it was no more than 5 minutes. My dad left the waiting line and started to look for me. But there we were, I and my strange companion, strolling, back onto government yard. My parents were furious, but seeing that our turn in line was coming up and that I was fine, they let it go without further discussion. “I brought this child back to his parents,” my walking partner exclaimed, to get back into his in the waiting line for the interviews. Of course, right away, my parents asked, “where did he take you?” After I described to my parents what took place, they rolled their eyes and started laughing. I didn’t know what happened. I was actually, looking at the flowers and the statues. I do remember that he was pushing at a very quick pace, which did not feel that great, in my makeshift wheelchair. Well, my “kind” companion either just remembered or just found that during interview, he will need cash to pay fees. So he did some quick thinking. He was aware that Italy was one of the countries where it is acceptable for elderly and physically disabled to skip the waiting lines, in some instances. Basically, he took me for a walk, to skip the waiting line for the bank’s teller window that was around the corner of the government offices. As far as my memory serves me, there were about 7 people in the bank’s line.”

Thank you for your consideration. It is a great honor for me to share with you ))) I promise, this is going somewhere. We will be brilliant. We will be victorious. Don’t get scared now…

“Collaboration celebration, as we live life of noise creation. Like vegetation, warmed up by sun, cooled off by ocean. But unlike leaves, we feel another’s heart distortion. We’re single, but we’re just a portion, proportioned to this world. We might be in the middle of the warmest motion, while some of us are cold. So blue and cold, someone is always looking at grey skies. So bright, was their sunrise but didn’t offer any warmth. With pain, they shut their eyes, just trying to escape within their minds. And they see paradise, plateaus and plains where air can make you giggle, where smallest flowers and a sun can mingle, ’cause love is not selective. There’s love that’s not corrective, so every beauty is unique. Can’t get homesick, ’cause everywhere they go is home. There’s wild and refreshing storm, but thunder raises no alarms. It only gives a chance to be so close, to be in someone’s arms. From eyes, they take away their palms and see their daily choice. Let’s try to hear each other’s hearts, we are the noise.”

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Source: Reditt