Moral stories: the strange case of the penguins in New Zealand

Stories and News No. 929

I read that a city in New Zealand has decided to build an underpass to facilitate the march of the penguins. The private gallery is designed to help these migrant creatures, allowing them to pass unmolested.

Wow.

Double wow.
Indeed, only a half, and nothing exceptional.
Don’t spread the news that I exaggerate.
I, Mahuta Atairangikaahu, and all my family, we are well known for stubborn containment of measures.
Just for the record, it’s enough to say that the day my cruel and authoritarian grandmother was hit by her last infarction, just before she declared “it was just a tremor due to the changing weather”. Soon after, my brother-in-law, as well the unpleasant and severe elder’s son in law, to explain his sudden attack of a convulsive laughter used very similar words: “Excuse me, just a tremor, due to the changing weather.” And go on with other guffaws.
Wow, you know, we Atairangikaahu are like that, we minimize by vocation: it’s nothing, don’t worry, ignore it and so on. We love to decrease all as little stuff, something of short importance.
It is easy to guess the content of the exchange I had with my wife.
Did I say wife? Oh, nothing relevant, only the woman whom I live with, nothing more.
"Honey, I finally found a job."
"Great!"
"Did I say job?"
"Yes, darling…"
"Wow, I am sorry, it's just a simple way to use time, one thing to do during the day in order to put food on our plates."
"Yeah, you're right, nothing that matters."
"What do you mean, honey?"
"I am talking about the job, not to the plates..."
"Oh… okay.”
You know, we Atairangikaahu minimize everything, except the food, remember that. Anyway, just look at that poor balance.
Did I say balance? Well, nothing extraordinary, something to calculate the weight, don’t imagine anything special.
So, the next morning, I mean the following day, just the one after yesterday, I went to my new office.
Did I use the word office?
Wow, this time I’m really wrong.
Yes, because the place where I would have done my job was open, at the entrance to a sort of tunnel, variously named by users.
The corridor of hope and The highway to the future are the ones that I like best.
My boss, I just mean the guy who signed my paycheck, he explained that my task was to safeguard the penguins’ march through the above preferential way.
Now, I said it and I repeat it.
The Atairangikaahu are famous for a strong tendency to reduce everything to a minimum.
But, wow, I did not know that in New Zealand there were so many penguins…
Above all speaking, with cardboard suitcases and dressed in rags.
Did I tell you many? I’m wrong again.
Because as soon as the rumor that finally in the world there was a city where, instead of rejecting and mistreating migrant lives, there was concern to build a road for them, at the entrance of this wonderful street appeared a so long and dense row of hopeful souls that you could not see the end.
Did I say the end?
Wow, yes, this time it is perfectly true.
The End.


Read more stories with morals
Buy my latest book Elisa and the wonderful world of objects
Listen my song Wolves
Watch my last storytelling show with English subtitles Walking with the shadow
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