Era t\u00e2rziu \u00een noapte, iar lini\u0219tea cimitirului era tulburat\u0103 doar de fo\u0219netul v\u00e2ntului printre brazi. Pe ecranul camerei, b\u0103rbatul privi cum o siluet\u0103 firav\u0103 se apropia de morm\u00e2nt. Inima i se opri o clip\u0103. Nu era un om \u00eenalt \u0219i nici un ho\u021b gr\u0103bit. Era o femeie b\u0103tr\u00e2n\u0103, cu umerii \u00eencovoi\u021bi, care purta un cojoc ponosit.<\/p>\n
Se aplec\u0103 \u00eencet, lu\u0103 trandafirii \u0219i \u00eei str\u00e2nse la piept. Lacrimile \u00eei curgeau pe obraji. Se vedea limpede, chiar \u0219i prin obiectivul camerei, c\u0103 nu era un gest de r\u0103utate, ci de durere.<\/p>\n
A doua zi, v\u0103duvul merse din nou la morm\u00e2nt, dar de data asta nu singur. St\u0103tu ascuns dup\u0103 o cruce mare, a\u0219tept\u00e2nd. C\u00e2nd b\u0103tr\u00e2na ap\u0103ru din nou, p\u0103\u0219ind cu greu \u0219i duc\u00e2nd \u00een m\u00e2ini florile proaspete, el \u00ee\u0219i f\u0103cu curaj \u0219i se apropie.<\/p>\n
\u2014 Doamn\u0103, de ce lua\u021bi florile de aici? \u2014 \u00eentreb\u0103 el, vocea tremur\u00e2ndu-i.<\/p>\n
B\u0103tr\u00e2na tres\u0103ri, apoi privi \u00een jos. Ochii ei umezi se ridicar\u0103 \u00eencet c\u0103tre el.
\u2014 \u00cemi pare r\u0103u\u2026 Nu voiam s\u0103 v\u0103 r\u0103nesc. So\u021bul meu e \u00eengropat nu departe de aici. Niciodat\u0103 n-a avut flori. Am tr\u0103it s\u0103raci, dar el mi-a promis c\u0103 dup\u0103 moarte va avea mereu trandafiri. N-am bani s\u0103 cump\u0103r. \u0218i c\u00e2nd am v\u0103zut florile acestea, nu m-am putut ab\u021bine\u2026<\/p>\n
V\u0103duvul sim\u021bi cum ceva i se fr\u00e2nse \u00een piept. Toat\u0103 furia \u0219i durerea din ultimele s\u0103pt\u0103m\u00e2ni se topir\u0103 \u00eentr-o singur\u0103 clip\u0103. \u00ce\u0219i aminti de so\u021bia lui, de bun\u0103tatea ei, de felul \u00een care aducea mereu c\u00e2te o p\u00e2ine \u00een plus pentru vecina b\u0103tr\u00e2n\u0103, doar ca s\u0103 nu duc\u0103 lips\u0103.<\/p>\n
Atunci \u00een\u021belese: iubirea adev\u0103rat\u0103 nu se termin\u0103 odat\u0103 cu moartea. Ea se reg\u0103se\u0219te \u0219i \u00een lacrimile altora, \u00een dorul altora, \u00een gesturile mici, dar pline de suflet.<\/p>\n
Se aplec\u0103 \u0219i \u00eentinse b\u0103tr\u00e2nei un buchet nou de trandafiri.
\u2014 Lua\u021bi-i. De azi \u00eenainte, o s\u0103 aduc dou\u0103 buchete. Unul pentru so\u021bia mea \u0219i unul pentru so\u021bul dumneavoastr\u0103. A\u0219a, ei nu vor fi niciodat\u0103 singuri.<\/p>\n
Ochii femeii se umplur\u0103 de lacrimi, iar m\u00e2inile ei tremur\u00e2nde \u00eei str\u00e2nser\u0103 m\u00e2na. \u00cen t\u0103cerea cimitirului, doi str\u0103ini \u00ee\u0219i \u00eemp\u0103rt\u0103\u0219eau aceea\u0219i durere \u0219i aceea\u0219i dragoste.<\/p>\n
De atunci, \u00een fiecare duminic\u0103, morm\u00e2ntul so\u021biei \u0219i cel al b\u0103rbatului b\u0103tr\u00e2nei erau \u00eempodobite cu flori. Lumea trec\u0103toare poate fi rece \u0219i aspr\u0103, dar acolo, printre cruci, \u00een lini\u0219tea aceea ad\u00e2nc\u0103, doi oameni au redescoperit ce \u00eenseamn\u0103 s\u0103 nu fii singur.<\/p>\n
\u0218i, poate, a\u0219a cum spune o veche vorb\u0103 rom\u00e2neasc\u0103, \u201eflorile aduse pentru mor\u021bi sunt lacrimile vii ale inimii\u201d. \u00cen fa\u021ba durerii, compasiunea a reu\u0219it s\u0103 \u00eenfloreasc\u0103 din nou, ca o lumin\u0103 care alung\u0103 \u00eentunericul.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Era t\u00e2rziu \u00een noapte, iar lini\u0219tea cimitirului era tulburat\u0103 doar de fo\u0219netul v\u00e2ntului printre brazi. Pe ecranul camerei, b\u0103rbatul privi cum o siluet\u0103 firav\u0103 se apropia de morm\u00e2nt. Inima i se opri o clip\u0103. Nu era un om \u00eenalt \u0219i nici un ho\u021b gr\u0103bit. Era o femeie b\u0103tr\u00e2n\u0103, cu umerii \u00eencovoi\u021bi, care purta un cojoc […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":6903,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6902","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-povesti"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6902","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6902"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6902\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6904,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6902\/revisions\/6904"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/6903"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6902"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6902"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6902"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}