Memories of my mother

It was a time, a beautiful garden. And in this garden there was a tree named Mary. Mary liked of the birds that flight on it. Then, in a beautiful day while it was talking, it said:

-          How are you, bird? I haven’t seen you lately. Where were you?

-          I’m fine, Thank you. I was in Brazil. In the Amazon.

-          Oh, were you traveling? What did you visit in the Amazon?

-          I visited my parents.

-          I don’t know. Are you from Brazil?

-          Yes, I am. And, my mother sent to you a hug, kiss and a letter. Read!

-          Just a moment, please.

So, after three minutes, the tree read the letter that said:

Hello, tree, I miss you, but I’m far from you. Here, the life passes, like the each fall that arrives and stays for a moment.

Junior said me, a little about your city. I know all the friends you have. I know you. And I know, as much as it is big my hope of meet us. If I did something of wrong with you, sorry me. If I said you were unlucky, crazy, and unhappy. Sorry, but I didn’t know, you were and you are still this person so happy, clever, beautiful and great.

Kiss, Junior’s mother.

-          

           Oh, Junior, your mother is great. I like it so much. May I call it of mother, too?

-          Of course yes! I knew your mother died. (it begins to cry) Oh, oh, no. Sorry, sorry. I didn’t want remember you.

-          Well, I know, I know.

-          Mary, I staid to knowing that today the tears are wetting you. Is it true?

-          It’s , it’s true, since my mother died, I don’t think in other thing, without be to see it here beside me. See it, with that smile and with that way of be happy.