\u00cen\u0103untru erau mai multe bancnote vechi, str\u00e2nse cu o sfoar\u0103 sub\u021bire, \u0219i o bucat\u0103 de h\u00e2rtie \u00eeng\u0103lbenit\u0103. Pe h\u00e2rtie era scris tremurat: \u201ePentru fata care mi-a fost ca o fiic\u0103. S\u0103 nu-\u021bi fie ru\u0219ine s\u0103-\u021bi cumperi ceva frumos. Mul\u021bumesc c\u0103 m-ai iubit.\u201d<\/p>\n
Am sim\u021bit cum lacrimile \u00eemi ard obrajii. Bancnotele nu valorau mare lucru, poate vreo c\u00e2teva sute de lei, dar pentru mine aveau valoarea unei averi. Erau banii str\u00e2n\u0219i, probabil, din micile economii pe care le f\u0103cuse din pensiile copiilor sau din ce mai vindea prin sat \u2013 un sac de orez, ni\u0219te legume, poate ou\u0103le de la g\u0103inile lui b\u0103tr\u00e2ne.<\/p>\n
Am \u00eenchis h\u00e2rtia cu grij\u0103 \u0219i am sim\u021bit cum o lini\u0219te ad\u00e2nc\u0103 m\u0103 cuprinde. Atunci am \u00een\u021beles: nu l\u0103sase doar bani. L\u0103sase recuno\u0219tin\u021b\u0103, iubire \u0219i un mesaj pe care nu-l voi uita niciodat\u0103.<\/p>\n
Dup\u0103 \u00eenmorm\u00e2ntare, casa p\u0103rea goal\u0103. Dimine\u021bile erau t\u0103cute, f\u0103r\u0103 vocea lui care m\u0103 \u00eentreba dac\u0103 am b\u0103ut cafeaua. Mi-era dor chiar \u0219i de momentele \u00een care \u00eel certam bl\u00e2nd c\u0103 iese \u00een curte f\u0103r\u0103 \u0219apc\u0103. \u00centr-o zi, am luat perna, am sp\u0103lat husa, am cusut marginile rupte \u0219i am pus \u00eenapoi h\u00e2rtia, \u00eemp\u0103turit\u0103 frumos. Am pus perna pe patul lui \u0219i am aprins o lum\u00e2nare.<\/p>\n
Fiul meu, care avea acum 13 ani, m-a \u00eentrebat: \u201eMama, de ce pl\u00e2ngi?\u201d I-am z\u00e2mbit \u0219i i-am spus: \u201ePentru c\u0103 bunicul t\u0103u a fost un om bun. \u0218i pentru c\u0103 uneori, dragostea nu are nevoie de vorbe, doar de fapte.\u201d<\/p>\n
Anii au trecut, dar perna a r\u0103mas acolo, ca o amintire. De fiecare dat\u0103 c\u00e2nd m\u0103 sim\u021beam obosit\u0103 sau pierdut\u0103, intram \u00een camera lui \u0219i m\u0103 a\u0219ezam l\u00e2ng\u0103 ea. Parc\u0103 \u00eel sim\u021beam din nou acolo, z\u00e2mbind bl\u00e2nd.<\/p>\n
\u00centr-o zi, am hot\u0103r\u00e2t s\u0103 folosesc banii. Nu pe haine, cum scria el, ci pe ceva care s\u0103-i poarte mai departe numele. Am cump\u0103rat o banc\u0103 de lemn \u0219i am pus-o \u00een fa\u021ba casei, sub vi\u0219inul b\u0103tr\u00e2n. Pe sp\u0103tar am scris cu o pl\u0103cu\u021b\u0103 mic\u0103 de metal: \u201e\u00cen amintirea lui Ion \u2014 un om simplu, dar cu inim\u0103 mare.\u201d<\/p>\n
De atunci, to\u021bi vecinii care trec pe drum se opresc acolo, se odihnesc, mai schimb\u0103 o vorb\u0103, mai povestesc de vremurile de alt\u0103dat\u0103. \u0218i a\u0219a, sufletul lui tr\u0103ie\u0219te \u00een fiecare clip\u0103 de lini\u0219te, \u00een fiecare z\u00e2mbet al trec\u0103torilor.<\/p>\n
Am \u00eenv\u0103\u021bat c\u0103 via\u021ba nu se m\u0103soar\u0103 \u00een ce ai, ci \u00een c\u00e2t\u0103 iubire la\u0219i \u00een urm\u0103. Mo\u0219 Ion nu a avut pensie, nici case, nici p\u0103m\u00e2nturi bogate. Dar a avut un suflet curat \u0219i o inim\u0103 care a \u0219tiut s\u0103 mul\u021bumeasc\u0103 \u00een cel mai frumos mod.<\/p>\n
C\u00e2nd privesc banca aceea din curte \u0219i florile care cresc l\u00e2ng\u0103 ea, \u0219tiu c\u0103 am f\u0103cut ce trebuia. Iar de fiecare dat\u0103 c\u00e2nd adie v\u00e2ntul, parc\u0103 \u00eel aud spun\u00e2nd din nou, cu vocea lui bl\u00e2nd\u0103: \u201eMul\u021bumesc, fat\u0103 drag\u0103\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u00cen\u0103untru erau mai multe bancnote vechi, str\u00e2nse cu o sfoar\u0103 sub\u021bire, \u0219i o bucat\u0103 de h\u00e2rtie \u00eeng\u0103lbenit\u0103. Pe h\u00e2rtie era scris tremurat: \u201ePentru fata care mi-a fost ca o fiic\u0103. S\u0103 nu-\u021bi fie ru\u0219ine s\u0103-\u021bi cumperi ceva frumos. Mul\u021bumesc c\u0103 m-ai iubit.\u201d Am sim\u021bit cum lacrimile \u00eemi ard obrajii. Bancnotele nu valorau mare lucru, poate […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":8885,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-8884","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\/8884","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=8884"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8884\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8886,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8884\/revisions\/8886"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/8885"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=8884"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=8884"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=8884"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}