Saturday, January 23 Oasis organize a day with the theme "... sooner or later you have to make a move! . Although it seems a threat, really wants to be an occasion to reflect on what it means to move mainly from spiritual point of view. If you have time, I think, might be interesting to attend. There are Luke and Don Moscatelli Enzo Barbante: in addition to being very involved in the area of \u200b\u200bpastoral care, are people with whom we share many profound and ideas and projects. Don Enzo, then, I've known him for 20 years (maremma! !!!). I am attaching the flyer
of the day.
Paul is also faced one of its small move (to another, after the exodus from Milan to Cernusco) is beginning to leave the cradle, which has hosted for 10 months to migrate to new beds, bigger, everything beautiful white erdedità his cousin Giulia.
course is also moving from our room to her (yes now also has a room all its own, we are becoming middle class).
And this move is inherently progressive and recursive: it is a continuous shift in the night between ex-cradle, cot and Latvian. The means of transport is always a parent (especially mother).
And on this occasion I must write a note on the mother-mam (as Paul calls, use the same term, however, a little 'to everything: porridge, sometimes the father, the teddy bear ...). In these early days of moving, you see them often in the room sitting on a chair with Paul in her arms that look and play with the new bed, to make it more friendly and less "cage". A small (piccoli!) steps we are succeeding and Paul manage to sleep for about 1 hour later!
I remember my dad was not Steiner. When he reached my sister (I was 3 ½ years) and having only one bedroom (as they used to in the 70's ...) and having to make room in the crib next to my mother, my bed migrated inexorably against the wall, stuck with the big dresser with mirror. Obviously I did not like the new location and definitely my father told me that he would need to move some equipment and that tomorrow would bring them home from work. The next day I waited for him and he apologized saying he had forgotten. And so it went for several days, where I waited confident and (as only a child can do) that the evening my father would return with the gear. But every evening the same scene.
course my bed remained there permanently and I, one day-probably-I forgot.
difficult childhood.
In the 70's there was no helpline
