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Stories about life: the Jewish girl

Stories and News No. 676

It took about 80 years.
And here's the truth: Hessy Levinson (today Taft), winner of the contest held in Nazi Germany during the '30s to elect the Aryan ideal child, was actually Jewish.
It’s the story of long competitions.
The outcome is ever awaited.
I am not referring to awards and applauses.
Those are always for the winners.
And the winners are always the same, right?
The surprise is an exception and a moment later becomes normal. Because even the outsiders with trophy in hand and lights in the eyes, sooner or later, gets crazy.
Nevertheless, long life to the time.
Yes, time can be a tedious narrator.
But at the end of all, if you wish to see marvelous effect you have to wait.
No really patient spectator was never disappointed so far.
So it happens that finally the long contests judge opens the envelope.
And here's the bombshell.
The perfect Aryan child is a Jewish girl.
But not only that.
There, on the very far horizon, in 80 years or even longer, maybe there are others paradoxical results.
Maybe the model citizen is an immigrant.
And true god is nothing what you imagined or prayed so far.
Maybe the resistance of this world contains fewer terrorists than the exporters of walls and democracies.
Maybe the color of people actually covers our eyes, never the skin.
And we could save lives every moment of ours, just not killing them.
Staying still.
At our place.
Maybe in a such wrong world a right as just as weak soul, suffers, takes drugs or is lost in a delirium.
But what wonderful could he be if the strongest among us will help him.
Maybe the secular, carnal and spiritual love that combines two creatures is the most sacred thing in the universe.
And it is sacred because it is secular.
That is, pure and sincere.
These and many, too many other unexpected results are suspended there, where we cannot see with the naked eye.
Read them as well as the treasure at the end of the rainbow of colorful lies.
Be brave, let us gather around the generous friend.
Let us entrust him with confidence.
Time is his name.
It may be slow, surely.
But when a letter arrives home, the words explode in the heart.
Of perfect laughter and joy.
Because really deserved.

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