Time destroyed our small home, our nest of loves.
Orphaned of a mother at ten years of age, I became even more attached to my father, in an infinite anguish of love. In a year my father would also die.
The perennial memory of that moment has saved me; my father’s last words kept me from evil…
“My son,” he told me repeatedly ---: ”Do you remember the dragonfly? --- You removed his wings, and said: ‘Fly!... Try to fly now !’ My son, you are another small dragonfly. When your mother died, you lost two of your wings. Now, very soon when I shall have died, you will lose the other two you have left. Fly, my son! …Try to fly now! … Do not forget that you have the right to happiness, but always remember that others too also have that right. My son: Never take away anybody else’s wings! …”
And his voice broke in a last gasp.
Alejo Valdes Pica
Excelsior, Manila
