Silvestro And His Donkey
June 9th 2008 03:22
Silvestro And His Donkey
"You do not know what a terrible day I have had," Silvestro grumbled. "Even before the sun begins his day, I begin mine; walking from village to village, plying my trade to anyone who has the time to give me of their time and what do I come home with?"
"Our evening meal, my husband," replied Carmelina, pouring soup into bowls and laying one in front of her husband; one for her self and another before their five year old son, so tired from his day he was already asleep at the table.
"I walked so much I now have to re-sole my shoes," he grumbled, in between mouthfuls of soup.
Carmelina carried her sleeping son to the large bed, nestled in the far corner of the cottage and gently covered him with her mother's handmade quilt.
"What was wrong with riding on our donkey," Carmelina quietly asked when she finally had a chance to sit and enjoy her soup, but not before she replenished her husband's bowl first.
"You have no idea. You know nothing of the world; just what you see within these walls of yours. If it were not for me, who goes out every day, you would not even have the pot that you use to cook the food you are eating. You should be grateful, you should – "
Carmelina signed, "We were talking about the donkey. This morning, husband of mine, you left to ply your wares. You and our son were riding the donkey to our neighbouring village to the west – "
"Yes, yes, yes," Silvestro dismissed her. "I know that. I was there, on the donkey. When we reached the village to the west, all the villagers came out of their homes to see what we had; to touch the crockery I had so lovingly made, but then I heard one whisper that I should be ashamed of myself for using my donkey to carry my wares and myself and my son. I learnt from that and when I traveled into the next village, it was different. But wife, again I heard the whispers that I should be ashamed of myself for walking beside my donkey whilst my donkey carried the weight of my wares and my son. I tell you I could not wait until I left that village. Only a handful of my crockery did I barter before I left for the village to the east. When I arrived, holding my son in my arms and me walking beside our donkey, the villagers there laughed at me for wearing thin the soles of my shoes and not riding with my son on my donkey."
"Truly you had a miserable day," Carmelina sympathised.
"Miserable and lost. I gained nothing today but sore feet and worn out shoes."
Carmelina removed his worn shoes and watched as her exhausted husband sat in his favorite chair by the open fire and fell asleep.
As silence and darkness descended on the little cottage, Carmelina lay beside her son and wrapped her arms around him. "Ma," little Friedrich called, cocooned in the warmth of his mother's embrace, "I helped Pa tie all the wares to the donkey and Pa let me ride him and held onto me when I was scared and then he let me ride him on my own and then he let me walk beside him and we walked so, so much Ma and my feet don't hurt much, do you know why, Ma?" Carmelina felt him wiggle closer under the quilt. "I had the bestest day Ma."
"You do not know what a terrible day I have had," Silvestro grumbled. "Even before the sun begins his day, I begin mine; walking from village to village, plying my trade to anyone who has the time to give me of their time and what do I come home with?"
"Our evening meal, my husband," replied Carmelina, pouring soup into bowls and laying one in front of her husband; one for her self and another before their five year old son, so tired from his day he was already asleep at the table.
"I walked so much I now have to re-sole my shoes," he grumbled, in between mouthfuls of soup.
Carmelina carried her sleeping son to the large bed, nestled in the far corner of the cottage and gently covered him with her mother's handmade quilt.
"What was wrong with riding on our donkey," Carmelina quietly asked when she finally had a chance to sit and enjoy her soup, but not before she replenished her husband's bowl first.
"You have no idea. You know nothing of the world; just what you see within these walls of yours. If it were not for me, who goes out every day, you would not even have the pot that you use to cook the food you are eating. You should be grateful, you should – "
Carmelina signed, "We were talking about the donkey. This morning, husband of mine, you left to ply your wares. You and our son were riding the donkey to our neighbouring village to the west – "
"Yes, yes, yes," Silvestro dismissed her. "I know that. I was there, on the donkey. When we reached the village to the west, all the villagers came out of their homes to see what we had; to touch the crockery I had so lovingly made, but then I heard one whisper that I should be ashamed of myself for using my donkey to carry my wares and myself and my son. I learnt from that and when I traveled into the next village, it was different. But wife, again I heard the whispers that I should be ashamed of myself for walking beside my donkey whilst my donkey carried the weight of my wares and my son. I tell you I could not wait until I left that village. Only a handful of my crockery did I barter before I left for the village to the east. When I arrived, holding my son in my arms and me walking beside our donkey, the villagers there laughed at me for wearing thin the soles of my shoes and not riding with my son on my donkey."
"Truly you had a miserable day," Carmelina sympathised.
"Miserable and lost. I gained nothing today but sore feet and worn out shoes."
Carmelina removed his worn shoes and watched as her exhausted husband sat in his favorite chair by the open fire and fell asleep.
As silence and darkness descended on the little cottage, Carmelina lay beside her son and wrapped her arms around him. "Ma," little Friedrich called, cocooned in the warmth of his mother's embrace, "I helped Pa tie all the wares to the donkey and Pa let me ride him and held onto me when I was scared and then he let me ride him on my own and then he let me walk beside him and we walked so, so much Ma and my feet don't hurt much, do you know why, Ma?" Carmelina felt him wiggle closer under the quilt. "I had the bestest day Ma."
...000…
[ Text and original characters copyright © 2008 by Teresa Strati ]
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