* When I Turned My Back, I Realised He Had Gone

It was a bright sunny day in spring. As I was walking down the road I could see the birds around the trees that were swaying with the calm breeze. I was mesmorised by the colours that afternoon. After my walk in the garden, I stopped by the bridge, looking at the little river where there were frogs jumping around. I was amused by that image when I realised that graceful swallows were flying from under the bridge to the wide open sky.
Distracted by that thought and by the memories that were crossing my mind, I hadn’t noticed that a man was by my side, also distracted by the amazing nature that surrounded us.
The old, black man started talking to me about the migration of the swallows and I was listening to him while also remembering all the things that my father had taught me about nature and wildlife. These thoughts were interrupted as the man introduced himself.

He looked tired and heavy – as if he had a hard job and a complicated life, but still he seemed happy with all the good things life had given him; he showed me a picture of his children and told me their names and asked me mine. At the time I thought that maybe I should feel uncomfortable with talking with a stranger, but I wasn’t. I felt like we were the only people in the garden, absorbing all the smells around us: from the fragrant roses to the “fresh cut grass” smell. Only we could understand each other.
When I asked him his name, I could never have imagined what a coincidence the answer would be. His name was the same as my father’s - the one I was missing the most. I felt his presence in the form of that stranger and everything made sense. I felt grace and smiled.
But I had to go. I had to go home. I had to move on.
I did, and as I turned my back, I realised he had gone.

Written by Beatriz Araújo