Cabrerizo Posted July 7, 2022 Share Posted July 7, 2022 (edited) THE SCREWS OF THE CRADLE Like many other people, I have a second residence in a town outside the province of Madrid (Spain). There, I have the opportunity to meet with numerous relatives and enjoy life outdoors, away from the hustle and bustle of the big city. We have enough space to move furniture and belongings that exceed the storage capacity of our storage room and we accumulate many objects with no apparent utility. However, we have already lent on two occasions the ash wood crib that my daughter premiered in 1991. After several years of circulating around, it was returned to us by a niece of my wife. For the purpose of its assembly, this cradle has 16 metal screws in total, 8 long and 8 shorter, all golden in color. During the transfers, those screws were inside a simple plastic bag, like the ones they deliver in supermarkets. When I received the crib completely disassembled, I noticed that bag that was tied to one of the sides, at the bottom, taken with a simple knot. The same year we received the crib, we had arranged a corral that we bought because it adjoins our house, and there are two small rooms that we use as eventual storage rooms, until we complete the reform and make the enclosure more habitable. A narrow uncemented alley separated our house from the corral, so I carried the disassembled crib under my arm and moved, not without effort, with part of the furniture dragged, to take it to one of those rooms, and there I left the crib. However, when I was going to close the door of the small cabin, I noticed that, next to the floor, there was the base of the broken plastic bag and, horror!!! not a single screw was left inside. Can you be more clumsy?, I wondered myself. I had been dragging a part of the crib through the dirt in the alley, right where the bag was, without realizing that it was dragging through the dirt and the screws were being lost. So, I went out into the alley to see if I could find them. Having a golden tint, I thought that it would not be at all complicated to locate them. So, I started to recover them, little by little. I figured it would be over soon, because there is barely twenty meters of separation between the door of my house and the corral. But it was not so. I already had 6 screws between long and short, but I couldn't see any more. That alley had not been traveled by anyone in that short period of time. I returned home and started the tour again from the same "hall" where our niece had deposited the crib when she brought it. On that little route I found three other screws in the yard, but none inside the house. In total, I already had 9 screws. I repeated the route to the corral trying to go very slowly, right through the center of the alley, just as I had done the previous time. He looked very carefully, to the right and left. In the whole tour I found 4 more screws. I was already 13, but I couldn't see any others. I went into the corral and followed to the room. I found a screw. It was already 14. Two were missing. I returned home and was not able to find any more screws. So, I told my wife what had happened to me, because until that moment I had not told her anything. She thought that, perhaps, all the screws no longer existed because, with so much racking and so many years, it was a real miracle that none had been lost. It seemed to me a good reflection and, therefore, I called our niece and asked her about the screws. He told me that, when the crib was disassembled, they were all there. She could assure him because she helped her husband to do it. I told my wife about it, and together we walked down the alley twice in the same direction and two more times each separately in the opposite direction. We found no more screws either in the alley or in our yard or in the corral. She abandoned the investigation and I literally got on all fours and, like a possessed person, I searched, inch by inch, all over the street for half an hour. In desperation, I also abandoned, as it was already lunchtime. At four o'clock in the afternoon, I returned to the load. And nothing. I confess that they made me want to cry, because I felt completely useless and I couldn't stop mentally reviewing the initial itinerary I made with the crib. Very sad, I gave up and, for the first time all that day, I accepted the situation. It was at that moment, just as I was reaching the corner of my house with the alley, that I heard an inner voice that told me: "Give God a chance." I looked down at the floor and there, together, were the two missing long gold screws. I don't know if I need to insist on it, but I swear I passed by there a lot of times, even kneeling on the ground, checking the earth inch by inch, and I can assure you that those two screws were never there. I got excited. I entered the house, I communicated to my wife what had happened to me and she did not come out of her amazement. Many times, when I walk down that alley again, I remember that experience and, since then, I no longer let myself be overcome by discouragement. I give God and the Universe a chance, if they are not the same, because I learned that both, in Unity or separately, are always there, ready to lend a hand if the occasion deserves it. (Taken from my own book published in Spanish like "Relatos junto a la chimenea" ("Stories by the Fireplace"). Edited July 7, 2022 by Cabrerizo 0 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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