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THE HUMILLADERO

Al roadside or out giving the people, used to be formerly, a place of worship with a cross or an image, which was called shrine, because both those who came from afar, as those who thought out long time, or just passing through there to anywhere if they were devout and in those days we all were, bowed his head and knee, between his teeth, invoking God in a very personal prayer.

shrines were round or square, with dirt floors or pavement, with or without columns, roof or ceiling, with cross of wood or iron or stone, or without any of them but with a blessed image. Weather could be more desolate or under the shade of a leafy tree, trellis or covered roof with frame around its perimeter or forming small steps culminating in the base of the cross. The latter were
that I really liked me, especially if they were raised, because they could see from afar, and mitigated the fatigue to learn that they were near the village.

I have known these shrines where they no longer exist. Progress and carry off all respects neither the loftiest traditions.

But there are still villages and towns where they are kept as silent witnesses to the passage of time, keeping to his credit many prayers that only peace should be in such holy places.

However, in the dark times of strife and hatred repressed, also served as a place of lurking, waiting patient over rival neighbor, demanding the relevant accounts under the law of the knife blade.

who was also going to this sacred place to the time the girls were returning from the ages, and cover in these executioners that protected them in their hard work wearing lighter clothing with lustful intent if any chance any of them, or maybe several, to bow before the cross devout, the light left his calves or part of your breasts, which camera lens at the moment, to capture and burn their retinas the image more beautiful, to have for a long time before such a virtual image, a source of torment to his lust. In

shrines, they used fire duels. It also dismissed their father to the children when they went in search of new horizons. There they stopped to thank those who returned successful and rich, and there hid their shame the failures that afflicted returned with empty hands, those who returned with a learned profession, or at least brought the experience that much better to live life.

But the greatest misfortune is that of those who never returned for ingratitude, have ended up dead or in any contest infamous.

Cuantísimos declared his love to a girl in the shrine. Peter, John Ippolito, Roberto, Ovid, ... declared there so many beauties who were giving birth each year, as God wanted it to complete the cycle of life that is not small.

And these rustic beds, small towns, came the equally rustic cribs that clothed the greater part of the great figures of our history.

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Remembering JOSÉ MARÍA THE LAME AND HIS FATHER, Angelillo

My memories, sometimes escapes from Elda, my hometown, to incursions by those blessed fields Monóvar. In them is not easy to find human presence, although it is sensed. Is in the elaborate carving of its land, its clean margins, in Cabado recent strains in the red soil with the surrounding iron sulfate at the same time it gives them strength, protects, in sulfur Staining its branches trying to avoid insects and in short all the love that is scattered everywhere.

I can not help skew a small cluster of-way. The grapes are very sweet and ugo j made in the achicharradero broth or calms my thirst, or mitigates my heat, but left in my mouth and my lips a taste of summer evening that makes me lick a and again. The terraces are neglected sure sign of death or absence. There can be no negligence in this noble and selfless people. May sell or give away but never left in the abandoned what were clean and neat at the hands of their parents.

and they said all those words out sometimes from the mouth of an elder that I did not explain how you can still force to reach the slope or ravine where, he says, even when the body is entertaining, whimsical , does not put the trip.

These peasants caught my attention for a time a couple, father and son, who lived together in a cave in the ravine that runs through the village of Las Casas of the Lord, as if his spine. Front of the cave, across the avenue, a lovely house was available to both, but only to be rebuked them to live in it like civilized people, they refused to give unmistakable signs that the cave was found the world of good, no one will draw the attention this or that, by their fires and their meals according to what the cold or heat required and what your pantry store for them, without further conplicación rummaging through his bags, usually enriched with provisions that the family were going snuggling.

The father's name was Angel and all said Angelillo. It was very seasoned in his craft, cunning in the questions and answers cautious, and when it was a deal, do not know why, I had the impression that your fingers crossed behind his back to be granted to himself by that esoteric formula, the faculty had to say after the bread, which undoubtedly had the wine. In short, it was not very reliable. Many years ago and had met the eighties, but had an agility and vitality characteristic of a teenager. He was short, I used to wear a jacket, but underneath it in good weather but not wearing a shirt and his hair, fully preserved, it was completely white but he had passed a comb from the communion of the last great-grandchild. He had a squeaky little voice guttural, but as far raised the pitch, was not tired.
When interested in a conversation, it was quite usual for him to say what I imagined it would be the end of your sentence before the tell, as far as the mistake had to be constantly correcting also continually and sometimes as annoying after a correction, shook his head to one side and another as saying, "you say what you want, but what ib as to say is what I said."

As I liked to get along with them and did not want to be angry, when he was ahead of what would be the end of my sentence and its error did not break the whole thread of the plot, he nodded with a gesture so, although it had been wrong, and followed my story best.
had a tiny tractor carrying him any bad point was the way, and his son Jose Maria, who was nicknamed El Cojo followed him everywhere, curling up on the wooden platform that was towing a tractor attached to , funky like a dog and holding on to the table like a leech. Poor Jose Maria was born crippled and the only thing that was growing in proportion were the arms and head. The rest of the body had completely withered, his rib cage being no more than a boy of ten years. José María only moved the upper limbs and head, dragging the rest of his body, but it was very often and evil came to him from birth was so learned all martingales that were required to move it into what it is, he did it so naturally that we were all amazed.

His eyes were kind, like that with his mother, I imagine, looking at him, when his love was not enough to make it a normal child, but as with almost all children who have been persecuted by the misunderstanding, bad faith and fun of children who have always been the worst tormentors, while I watched, seemed to be thinking when you were going to start hurting their feelings. Therefore, the slow progress experienced their friendship and the feeling that was felt every time we met, as it were, almost, the first one we saw. It was very characteristic of him, away from your reach watched what he called your attention, especially when you asked him to lend you for a moment. When this occurred a laugh as if you were joking, but if they insisted, I very reluctantly approached, without actually releasing the hand or as little, without losing sight of the object and then open as far away as possible and dissimulation, was slowly covering it with this and the other until it was completely out of sight.

why it was better not to ask nothing, and when it was him who showed you something you could be sure it was an unequivocal sign of trust and friendship.

was very ambitious and frugal and only spend their money to buy land, if it sold it at a great price. José María might be times that I'm talking about forty-five, was not only ugly face and deformation of the body was so disfigured it. The sternum was pointing toward the front like a keel and shoulders when the arms supported on the floor, almost became mired below your ears. Still do not know if directed by his wit or by some great mechanic had built of the structure from a Vespa bike shed to form a compact carromoto which he, alone or accompanied by his father, moved to surrounding villages to sell articles of prime necessity of which was provisioned or generally in Pinoso Monóvar, close to The Houses of the Lord, to gain an additional benefit to that provided crops from their land.

Believe it or not, their lands were well attended and I say, raising my hand to mark my word, because that viejete almost nonagenarian, with his small tractor and tilled and fertilized in a flash plastic is up to the highest almond like a squirrel in the winter pruning or go knock from above, the almonds had not reached the bottom, while the crippled, with amazing agility as if it were a giant caterpillar crawling picking almonds that fell outside the network and deposited on them then, in tandem with his father, pouring its contents into the appropriate bags, which then tow the platform described above, transfer them to the cave where love and company in the bark drew almost detached from the actual almond shells said.

were always active and they talked me to consider myself more knowledgeable than them, they showered me with questions, which of them further what is presumed to be the conversation of these people, who mistakenly did not appear to enjoy a culture that he had wanted any degree.

Estimates of the performance of the kernel was one of the things they liked to play, but as I was present did not interrupt their work, ask questions and listen while separating the kernels of piquet and cid of marcona and mollares, then separate the mollares marcona as if they were mixed the minimum paid all the money and separated marcona were far more expensive than the piquet and mollares cid and much more expensive than marcona .

These between peeling and considerations and we went separate morning and when lunchtime came, knowing that they were not much given to invitations and hospitality, food pulled from my pack and following the ritual of them made me learn to eat without saying a word , not far occurred to suggest if there was something I longed to view them.

The old man came to an end, I guessed because I asked if he bought the tractor and sheep. I must have little desire to get rid of what he was distracted and life. José María

had long not with him. Asfisiaba asthma and needed him to be quiet. His lungs were oppressed in the case of a chest of child, and could only breathe with the aid of a spray that made her daily less effect.

Almost killed the couple, father and son, friends of the soul that have yet to wander by their beds, watching paint and ripping olive mamantones not to lose the tree strength.

sure when God calls for juic io be found in the shadow of those giants who were at the edge of the promenade of the landfill and God will see that his work is well attended, considering the soil tilled with care, pruned trees and filled with flowers and completely clean margins to hit Legon. And seeing that, do not want to do more investigation and will take them straight to heaven.

not they missed prayers and masses, but without doubt the most appreciated were the words of their children when almost simultaneously said, "WE CAN NOT LET YOU MISS THOSE THAT HAVE BEEN Terrace LIFE OF OUR FATHER AND our brothers. "