Gloria's Diary by Albert Russo (inspirational novels TXT) 📖
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/> just a mere detail, too negligible to consider?
It appeared so.
I have always maintained that I was the son of man,
as is every Jew who is made in the image of his Creator.
Yet, you have declared that I was the Son of God.
In reality, I was a simple man who loved his neighbor
as much as he despised the profiteers and the hypocrites,
and like a rabbi, I would praise the Lord every Shabbat;
at the synagogue, the synagogue which you converted into a church,
though it had never been my intention to transform the House of God,
a man who celebrated the holy days
of Pessah, of Rosh Ashana and of Kippur,
the definitions of which you should go and relearn.
Here I was now, face to face with a real Jew, poor as a church mouse - that expression sounds so comical here - struggling in the middle of the jungle, fraught with dangers of all kinds. My parents were aware of this, of course, since Sandro never pretended otherwise, and they worried for me, but they also knew that I had made up my mind. I granted them a couple more months to think it over and get used to the idea, during which time Sandro paid them two more visits. He had to reassure them as to the living conditions of his immediate future, especially concerning the well-being of their daughter, should the marriage plans go through. He brought them a black and white picture he had had enlarged - in those times, photos were the size of today's post-it’s - of the house in Kamina he intended to rent from his firm for the two of us. It wasn't big but looked decent enough, in order to appease my parents' fears. It had a wrap-around verandah, with, in front of the porch, a pair of frangipani trees, clusters of dahlias and a hedge of hibiscus. He also told them that behind the house was a vegetable garden, graced with several fruit trees, bearing mangoes, oranges and papayas. He even told of the succulent water melons which grew next to the carrots and the tomatoes, saying that they were very sweet. At the end of the driveway, to the left of the garage, stood a flame tree in full bloom, but since the picture wasn't in color, we could only guess at the beauty of the flowers.
The wedding in Elisabethville unfolded as in a dream, and there, my folks, including my brother Jonathan, wholly took to Sandro. They thought him to be considerate, generous and, very respectful.
These words he uttered made my mother's heart swell with affection:
“Since my darling parents could not leave their island to rejoin us, I count you now as my second family."
I finally met Sandro's sister and his two brothers, who had traveled all the way from the interior. The boys greeted me with sympathy, but the girl would cast me cold, inquisitive sidelong glances which put me ill at ease. That first impression was unfortunately the right one, for she proved to be terribly jealous, to the point of hating me and wishing me harm. But during these three days of celebration, I didn't let this dark shadow mar the joy we all felt, for this was the most beautiful event of my life, surrounded as I was with the people I loved most.
My father had become unrecognizable, he who was usually so strict and so phlegmatic, was now dancing and singing, telling us the funniest stories I had ever heard from him. That metamorphosis was probably what touched me more than anything else, reinforcing the accuracy of my feelings towards Sandro. Yes, I can now say it, without appearing overly sentimental, my parents had fallen for their son-in-law, from the very first day of our marriage, without any reservations, telling everybody they knew how happy they were to know that their daughter had found such a fine young man. Imprint
It appeared so.
I have always maintained that I was the son of man,
as is every Jew who is made in the image of his Creator.
Yet, you have declared that I was the Son of God.
In reality, I was a simple man who loved his neighbor
as much as he despised the profiteers and the hypocrites,
and like a rabbi, I would praise the Lord every Shabbat;
at the synagogue, the synagogue which you converted into a church,
though it had never been my intention to transform the House of God,
a man who celebrated the holy days
of Pessah, of Rosh Ashana and of Kippur,
the definitions of which you should go and relearn.
Here I was now, face to face with a real Jew, poor as a church mouse - that expression sounds so comical here - struggling in the middle of the jungle, fraught with dangers of all kinds. My parents were aware of this, of course, since Sandro never pretended otherwise, and they worried for me, but they also knew that I had made up my mind. I granted them a couple more months to think it over and get used to the idea, during which time Sandro paid them two more visits. He had to reassure them as to the living conditions of his immediate future, especially concerning the well-being of their daughter, should the marriage plans go through. He brought them a black and white picture he had had enlarged - in those times, photos were the size of today's post-it’s - of the house in Kamina he intended to rent from his firm for the two of us. It wasn't big but looked decent enough, in order to appease my parents' fears. It had a wrap-around verandah, with, in front of the porch, a pair of frangipani trees, clusters of dahlias and a hedge of hibiscus. He also told them that behind the house was a vegetable garden, graced with several fruit trees, bearing mangoes, oranges and papayas. He even told of the succulent water melons which grew next to the carrots and the tomatoes, saying that they were very sweet. At the end of the driveway, to the left of the garage, stood a flame tree in full bloom, but since the picture wasn't in color, we could only guess at the beauty of the flowers.
The wedding in Elisabethville unfolded as in a dream, and there, my folks, including my brother Jonathan, wholly took to Sandro. They thought him to be considerate, generous and, very respectful.
These words he uttered made my mother's heart swell with affection:
“Since my darling parents could not leave their island to rejoin us, I count you now as my second family."
I finally met Sandro's sister and his two brothers, who had traveled all the way from the interior. The boys greeted me with sympathy, but the girl would cast me cold, inquisitive sidelong glances which put me ill at ease. That first impression was unfortunately the right one, for she proved to be terribly jealous, to the point of hating me and wishing me harm. But during these three days of celebration, I didn't let this dark shadow mar the joy we all felt, for this was the most beautiful event of my life, surrounded as I was with the people I loved most.
My father had become unrecognizable, he who was usually so strict and so phlegmatic, was now dancing and singing, telling us the funniest stories I had ever heard from him. That metamorphosis was probably what touched me more than anything else, reinforcing the accuracy of my feelings towards Sandro. Yes, I can now say it, without appearing overly sentimental, my parents had fallen for their son-in-law, from the very first day of our marriage, without any reservations, telling everybody they knew how happy they were to know that their daughter had found such a fine young man. Imprint
Publication Date: 11-11-2009
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