The lucky one?
Idroscalo Today I met a lady who would defined as "not normal" (that ugly word, as if normalcy could be rigidly defined when it comes to people). He had a physical
very minute, a child, but her face betrayed what I looked like a middle-aged.
What struck me was his fear, his weakness. He walked around among the people terrified, as if afraid someone would hit her, hurt her. He put all this sadness.
I was rather tender mother, who scolded her. At first angry, because her daughter was moving away, and after that - once they became aware of the people who watched-no-to-see-that-were-the-looking - has softened the tone. Not
I could not help but feel so much tenderness and pain at the same time. Ever since I was small I feel is worth repeating that a bad feeling to try for those who are disadvantaged. We should not feel sorry, but happiness for the fact that this person, although "disadvantaged" can do everything that I do too. This is what I hear. Perhaps it is really so, but every time I come across a mother and a daughter "different", I can not feel compassion, and contempt for those who ride them, even for those who dare to take them around. I hate this ignorance, and hate even more the false gooders.
Maybe because it's something that concerns me: I was born in 7 months and my weight did not reach the kilo and a half, I stayed 40 days in an incubator, and the doctors did not know how to rule my life would be in the future, if my brain would have developed without problems, as well as my physical .
Maybe that's why every time I see some reality, I say here, I could be me.
It 's a silly thought, perhaps, yet I can not formulate it.
And yet, every blessed and holy time that happens, I can not thank, not to remind me that what I believe problems are only trivial problems compared to another. In the end I
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