When you travel to Africa, North America, or Asia, and you walk away from the typical tourist attractions you will see people sing and laugh, and you will be surprised to notice that often the loudest laughter and the greatest joy comes from the poorest of the poor.
Christiane F. how could I forget her? The name is very well known in Germany and other German-speaking countries. Men and women close to my age, remember her well. We met her in school that day when our teacher dimmed the lights. It was movie time. “We talk about it later.”
I don’t know if I can explain love. A desire, a burning yearning, a flame inside giving warmth, the need to care, the wish to hold, the urge to protect, the joy of sharing. One word and so many meanings. Perhaps it’s different for everybody, depending what we wish for?
A group posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds.
“What does love mean?”
The answers were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. How easy it can be explained by innocent minds.
The first time I visited Rome the Capital City of Italy, only 6 hours away from our farm in South Tyrol, I felt at home. I had never been there before, but had walked the streets of Rome for many hours in my mind at school, when we learned all about the Roman Empire. I had wept for the innocent and poor who were tortured, or were just a human toy in the brutal games the rich invented to entertain themselves and the masses.
Mother’s Day seems quite harmless. You invite your mother to brunch, buy flowers, maybe even some chocolates and you enjoy good times together.
But the history of this modern holiday is marked by a rampage of conflicts, controversies, and consumerism. Mother’s Day has a dark side and who other than someone like me- who doesn’t celebrate Mother’s Day- should point it out.
I am an American and love this country with all my heart, but I also have a European Austrian-Italian soul. I am following Sunday Lyrics for a while but only posted once. My original splendid evening idea to post European songs every Sunday, didn’t seem to make too much sense the next day. Nevertheless, it didn’t leave me alone.
I feel your anger my blood is boiling too, yet, at the moment I will see looting my support goes away. It could be my property, my house, my car. I worked for it, nobody has the right to take violently away what’s mine. There was a time when I didn’t have much. Nothing was given to me.
It felt like a flood gate had been opened. Tears were running down my cheeks. Long forgotten emotions and memories rolled over me like waves. April 1st, for many just April Fools Day, for me a reminder of the woman who gave birth to me. She would have been 91 yesterday.
“They are right up my alley,” I said, softly swinging from one side to the other in my chair. Shoulder rolling, half-closed eyes, and all the other things this kind of music makes me do. “They have the groove,” I said and my husband laughed.