What we are made of

I was about ten or twelve years old. We lived in a neighborhood distant from downtown. An area not yet developed at the time. Our property was fenced all around, which is still common in Brazil.

I was playing on the front lawn, when I heard someone coming up the street on a two wheel horse drawn cart. I found a picture on the net that will give you an idea of what I am talking about:

And the one I saw was also being pulled by a little burro, just like this one.

I ran to the fence to look. The cart was full of bricks. There were two people riding in front, an old man and a young boy.

All of a sudden, the poor animal stopped. The cart was too full and too heavy for him to manage the up hill pull. The young boy pulled a whip and hit the burro, and hit, and yelled, and cussed, and hit again.

I remember my heart started pounding in my chest, and I got scared. I was frozen in place, watching that miserable kid hitting that poor burro. The old man, then, stopped the kid. I felt relief, but it did not last. The old guy, stepped down from the cart and went to its back. From there he pulled a long thing that looked like a stick. He went to the front of the cart, right beside the burro, and told the young guy to get ready with the reins. He then, lifted that stick looking thing, as high as he could.

I was too innocent and stood there, wondering what he was going to do.

To my complete horror, he swung that thing - which, by this time, I had realised it was a iron rebar - and hit the poor animal on the nape of the neck, while the young guy hit him again with the whip, yelling and trying to make it move.

I remember this as if it had happened yesterday. The poor animal let a sound like a "whoooffff" out his nostrils and mouth. His legs moved sideways and he swerved a little. But he did not move forward.

I screamed, and screamed, and SCREAMED! Crying and hysterical, I ran inside to call my mom. (My dad was at work.) She had heard me and was already on her way.  Horrified, I told her what had happened. My body was shaking, my stomach sick and I could not stop crying. (The memory is so vivid and painful that I could cry again right now.)

My mom - my hero, my inspiration, my sweet treasure - told me to calm down. She went to their bedroom and picked up dad's gun - a 7.62 mm German semi-automatic pistol. She was wearing slacks, and she put it in her pocket.

And she went to the front fence. I followed her at a distance.

The old guy was, at the moment she arrived, lifting that rebar again. Mom turned to the side, pulled the gun from her pocket, and caulked it, right there, right in front of them. She did not point the gun at him, she caulked it ostensibly to show him she meant business. She kept her arm along her body, and said:

- You are NOT doing this again! I am telling you... you are NOT doing this again!!

The old man dropped the iron bar and tried to justify, saying the burro was lazy and other stupid things. My mom just stood there, staring at him, arm down. She was a little woman but, at that moment, she looked like a brave stiff standing meerkat.

She replied he had to find a way to do it, split the load, leave it here in front of the house, nobody is going to steal it... whatever! - You are just NOT going to hit this animal again, I assure you!!

And this is what the old mean horrible guy did. He made the young boy remove more than half the load of bricks and pile it in front of our house. He left the boy sitting on the pile of bricks and left with the cart. Later, he came to pick the boy and the rest of the bricks.

As this whole episode ended, I remember that my mom put the pistol back - not before she took the bullet off the chamber, refilled the magazine with it, put it back in place and set the safe on. After that, she started shaking! A lot! She had to sit down.

I asked her if she would have shot him, in case he did not pay attention to her. And she said:

- We better be grateful that we will never know it.

Why did I post this today? Because I've been thinking of all that we actually inherit from our parents. From their genes, from their souls. From what is really alive in us; the energy that we emit, the thing that makes our hearts pump.

These are just some of those things. The love and respect for any living creature.

Thank you, mom!