“I saw a mother fashionably dressed went out of her house, a mansion with two little children stepping into the Mercedes. I imagined her husband who was driving the car, to be a very wealthy man that he could win her, the children perhaps, were taught in an international school. That certainly was his pride, his success. I picture myself a cold welcome awaiting me if I ever visited her in shorts on a bike, ha, ha. Then another man and another woman some thirty years ago came to my mind.” Opa Johan said to his wife.
“I went in. It was dark in the little room and sat before a desk before the man who was in charge to provide for my new identity card and I filled in our family data as we moved in to another house. He doesn’t seem to be very healthy.”
“After having finished my papers I turned home and was struck as his wife entered, a beautiful angel with a lovely voice. As a little candle her appearance suddenly lit up the room, the life of this man. How happy, how rich he must be with such a good angel beside him as he could never afford to ‘buy’ himself such a lovely creature and provide a mansion for her.”
“How loving she must be to love that man despite such poor living conditions. Which man would you choose?” he whispered.
There was a silence.
“Me! Dear little fool.” So said Opa Johan.
October 2008
February 2012
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