[Esp./Eng.] The girl on the stairs. || La chica de la escalera.



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La chica de la escalera


Lo que observo más allá de la imagen

Veamos, en la foto se ve a una chica, de esas que están en plena adolescencia, ¿sabes? Está sentada en unos escalones de piedra, de esos bien anchos. Y la postura es como si estuviera hecha un ovillito, con la cabeza escondida entre las rodillas y los brazos apretados alrededor. Vamos, que o está dándole vueltas a algo, o agotada, o con un bajón de los buenos… quién sabe.


Lleva una camisa de cuadros, de esas de blanco y negro que se llevan un montón, y unos vaqueros claritos, así como anchotes y con el bajo un poco remangado. Y en los pies, unas zapatillas de tela oscurillas con los cordones blancos. El pelo, que es de un color así como rojizo, cobrizo, muy chulo, lo lleva recogido como de cualquier manera, con algunos mechones sueltos que se le escapan por la frente y los hombros. Y justo a su lado, en el escalón, ha dejado un bolso de tela azul.

El sitio en sí, pues son esas típicas escaleras de piedra maciza, que se nota que tienen sus años, pero que aguantan lo que les echen, ¿verdad? Como de un edificio con historia, a lo mejor un colegio de los de antes o algo por el estilo. La luz del sol, que yo diría que es de esas de la tarde, que lo tiñen todo de un tono cálido y alargan las sombras, le da a la escena de una forma que no es uniforme, y eso crea un juego de luces y sombras muy guay. Una parte de ella está más iluminada y otra queda más en penumbra. Y fíjate cómo las sombras de las hojas de los árboles se proyectan en la pared de piedra del fondo y en los propios escalones… eso le da como más… no sé, como más rollo, más profundidad.

Por arriba y a los lados, se ven las hojas verdes de los árboles, como si estuvieran enmarcando un poquito la imagen. Y si te fijas más al fondo, sigue la pared de piedra y se adivina una ventana con una reja de hierro y alguna que otra plantita por ahí. En general, la sensación que da es de tranquilidad, pero con un puntito de melancolía, la verdad. Como si hubieras pillado un momento muy suyo, muy personal.

Lo que me hace sentir la Imagen

Uf, ver esta foto… y me entra una nostalgia que ni te cuento. Es como si de repente se me prendiera un bombillo en un rincón olvidado de la cabeza, y ¡pum!, me vienen todos los recuerdos de mis años de bachillerato. La verdad, qué agradecido estoy por esos tiempos, por todo lo que viví y, sobre todo, por la gente que conocí, como esa amistad tan especial que nació justo en unas escaleras.

Cuando la miro, siento una mezcla de ternura y como que me pongo en el lugar de los dos, ¿sabes? Al acordarme de lo vulnerable que estaba esa chica, y yo también, con ese rollo tan grande de dar clases siendo apenas un estudiante. Pero también me da una alegría bonita, muy tranquila, el recordar cómo un gesto superpequeño, un acercarme y tratar de entender, pudo cambiar el miedo por esperanza y ser el chispazo de una amistad de las buenas, de las que duran. Y sí, también hay un poquito de esa melancolía dulce, de esa que te da con los recuerdos que quieres un montón, pero que sabes que ya pasaron, aunque los guardas con todo el cariño por lo importantes que fueron. En la historia que me inspiró esto, o más bien, en la anécdota abajo, ya les voy a echar el cuento.

La Anécdota Detrás de Todo

Las escaleras del liceo... sí, eran como testigos silenciosos de miles de historias. Mis pasos resonaban allí todos los días, para arriba y para abajo. Y es que, aunque suene raro para alguien de tercero, yo daba clases de Física a mis compañeros. Era parte de una Beca-Trabajo, una responsabilidad un poco fuera de lo común, la verdad. Una mañana de esas, mientras me alistaba para ayudar a los chicos que venían con materias colgadas, la vi.

Ahí estaba, sentada en un escalón, tal cual la chica de la foto: hecha un ovillo, la cabeza entre las rodillas y el pelo rojizo tapándole la cara. A su lado, un bolso rosa que parecía igual de mustio que ella. La verdad, me partió un poco el corazón verla así. Me acerqué despacio.
«Oye, ¿estás bien? ¿Necesitas algo?», le dije lo más suave que pude.

Levantó la cabeza muy despacio. Tenía unos ojos preciosos, de un marrón clarito, pero estaban rojos, y se notaba en su piel fina que había llorado hacía poco. Con la voz hecha un hilo, me contó lo que le pasaba: el miedo a repetir tercero si no sacaba adelante la materia que arrastraba, Matemáticas de segundo. Uf, sus palabras... se sentía tan vulnerable. Me llegaron muy adentro. En ese momento sentí como una conexión, unas ganas enormes de quitarle ese peso de encima.

Intenté animarla, darle un poco de esa confianza que, para ser sincero, a mí también me fallaba a ratos. Entonces, ya con más calma, me presenté y le conté, intentando sonreír para que se relajara, que justo yo iba a ser quien le tomaría el examen de Matemáticas. Y para mi sorpresa, se le escapó una sonrisa que le cambió la cara por completo. ¡Qué sonrisa tan bonita tenía Liliana! Para que estuviera más tranquila, hasta le soplé una parte fácil del examen, diciéndole que se concentrara en esa para, por lo menos, sacar un once.

Esa misma tarde, en el salón, fueron llegando los ocho chicos que tenían que dar la materia. Y entre ellos, Liliana, que se sentó esta vez con un brillito de esperanza en los ojos. Cuando todo terminó, qué alegría: ¡todos habían aprobado! Liliana también, por supuesto.

Ese encuentro en las escaleras, fue mucho más que quitarse de encima una preocupación de estudios. Fue el comienzo de una amistad muy bonita, de esas conexiones que no te esperas y que guardas como un tesoro. Todavía hoy, cuando veo una foto parecida o subo unos escalones así de piedra, me acuerdo de Liliana y de ese día. Y siento una gratitud enorme, y la seguridad de que, a veces, un detallito puede cambiarle el día, o hasta la vida, a alguien.




Cómo participar, aún estás a tiempo…
Una imagen vale más que mil palabras

Portada de la iniciativa.


CRÉDITOS:

Imagen tomada de la iniciativa, cortesía de UNAPLASH




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Dedicado a todos aquellos que contribuyen, día a día, a hacer de este planeta un mundo mejor.





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The girl on the stairs


What I see beyond the image

Let's see, in the photo you can see a girl, one of those in her teens, you know? She's sitting on some stone steps, one of those wide ones. And her posture is like she's in a ball, with her head tucked between her knees and her arms wrapped tightly around her. She's either thinking about something, or exhausted, or in a real slump... who knows?


She's wearing a checked shirt, one of those black-and-white shirts that they wear a lot, and light-coloured jeans, kind of baggy and with the hem rolled up a bit. And on his feet, a pair of dark canvas trainers with white laces. Her hair, which is a kind of reddish, coppery colour, very cool, she wears it tied up like any other way, with a few loose strands of hair that escape over her forehead and shoulders. And right next to her, on the step, she has left a blue cloth handbag.

The place itself, well, it's those typical solid stone staircases, which you can see they have their age, but they can take anything you throw at them, right? Like a building with history, maybe an old school or something like that. The sunlight, which I would say is one of those in the afternoon, which tints everything with a warm tone and lengthens the shadows, hits the scene in a way that is not uniform, and that creates a very cool play of light and shadow. One part of it is brighter and another is more in shadow. And notice how the shadows of the leaves of the trees are projected on the stone wall in the background and on the steps themselves... that gives it more... I don't know, more of a roll, more depth.

Above and to the sides, you can see the green leaves of the trees, as if they were framing the image a little bit. And if you look further to the back, the stone wall is still there and you can see a window with an iron grille and some small plants. In general, the feeling it gives is one of tranquillity, but with a touch of melancholy, to be honest. As if you had caught a very personal moment, very personal.

What the Image Makes Me Feel

Ugh, seeing this photo... and I get so nostalgic I can't even tell you. It's as if a light bulb suddenly went off in a forgotten corner of my head, and wham, all the memories of my high school years come flooding back. The truth is, how grateful I am for those times, for everything I experienced and, above all, for the people I met, like that special friendship that was born right on the stairs.

When I look at her, I feel a mixture of tenderness and I sort of put myself in the place of the two of them, you know, remembering how vulnerable that girl was, and me too, with that big thing of teaching when I was just a student. But it also gives me a beautiful joy, a very calm joy, to remember how a super small gesture, a reaching out and trying to understand, could change fear into hope and be the spark of a good friendship, the kind that lasts. And yes, there is also a little bit of that sweet melancholy, the kind you get with memories that you love a lot, but that you know are gone, although you keep them with all your affection because of how important they were. In the story that inspired this, or rather, in the anecdote below, I'll tell you the story.

The Anecdote Behind It All

The stairs of the lycée... yes, they were like silent witnesses to thousands of stories. My footsteps echoed there every day, up and down. And the fact is that, although it may sound strange for a third year student, I was teaching physics to my classmates. It was part of a work-scholarship, a responsibility a bit out of the ordinary, to be honest. One of those mornings, as I was getting ready to help the kids who were coming in with some unfinished business, I saw her.

There she was, sitting on a step, just like the girl in the photo: curled up in a ball, her head between her knees and her reddish hair covering her face. Next to her, a pink handbag that looked just as limp as she did. To tell the truth, it broke my heart a little to see her like that. I approached her slowly.
‘Hey, are you okay, do you need anything,’ I said as softly as I could.

She raised her head very slowly. She had beautiful eyes, a light brown, but they were red, and I could tell from her thin skin that she had recently cried. With her voice in a whisper, she told me what was happening to her: the fear of repeating third grade if she didn't succeed in the subject she was dragging behind her, second grade Maths. Ugh, her words... she felt so vulnerable. They touched me deep inside. At that moment I felt a kind of connection, a huge desire to take that weight off her shoulders.

I tried to cheer her up, to give her some of that confidence that, to be honest, I sometimes lacked myself. Then, calmer, I introduced myself and told her, trying to smile to make her relax, that I was going to be the one to take her maths exam. And to my surprise, a smile broke out on her face that changed her face completely. What a beautiful smile Liliana had! To put her mind at ease, I even gave her an easy part of the exam, telling her to concentrate on that one to at least get an eleven.

That same afternoon, in the classroom, the eight boys who had to take the subject were arriving. And among them, Liliana, who sat down this time with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. When it was all over, what a joy: they had all passed! Liliana too, of course.

That meeting on the stairs was much more than just getting rid of a study worry. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, one of those connections that you don't expect and that you treasure. Even today, when I see a similar photo or climb some stone steps like that, I remember Liliana and that day. And I feel an enormous gratitude, and the certainty that, sometimes, a little detail can change someone's day, or even their life.




Come ɑnd pɑɾticipɑte becɑuse γou still hɑve, time…
A Pictuɾe Is Woɾth A Thousɑnd Woɾds

Cover of the initiative.


CREDITS:

Image taken from the initiative, courtesy of UNAPLASH




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I am dedicated to all those who contribute daily to make our planet É‘ a better world.





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11 comments
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What a lovely story of giving of one's self. I believe everything happens for a reason. There are no accidental encounters. People's lives have been changed by one encounter that instilled something missing. The exchange can be a word, a promise, advice, or just inquiry into that person's state of mind. As you say, you never who friendships can emerge. The meeting changed the girl's life in a profound way, giving her confidence. She probably didn't realize it, but the advice to break a difficult situation down in manageable parts and concentrate on a doable part would help her tackle life in the future.

Thanks so much for sharing this story. An excellent read. Take care.

!LADY

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Thank you for your kind comment. Liliana kept up with me for about two years, but she couldn't keep up with the academic pace. Some time later, I found out that she fell in love and raised a son, but that's as far as it went. Then I emigrated and I don't know anything more about her. I hope she is well, maybe fate will put us on a similar ladder again.

A hug full of blessings.

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(The high school steps... yes, they were like silent witnesses to thousands of stories..)I love this phrase , it gives a great focus to the post. Congratulations.
Have a great weekend.

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Thank you. I am sure that these stories would be endless, yours, mine and those of every student, teacher, worker who passed through them.

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Hola. La historia que escribì - antes de leer la tuya - tiene varios puntos de coincidencia en el enfoque. Hubo como una conexiòn. Interesante cincidencia.
Buen post, te desseo éxito en el concurso.

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Todos tenemos algo que contar; una historia pasajera que de seguro se ambienta en unas escaleras del Liceo o la Universidad… Gracias.

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An 11 is a note? I wonder about all the others who studied but didn't sit on those stairs. Were they rewarded with an easy exam as well?

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11 is not a mark, depending on the circumstances. I know students out of 20 who, the day after taking the exam, know nothing, and others who get 10, but retain the knowledge for years. I agree that an easy exam, supplied by the guide, is not the most ethical thing to do, but what is behind it has value. Sometimes it's not the students' fault that they scratch a subject, the fault, I know, has fallen on teachers who don't even know the subject themselves, they rely on books that have a lot of mistakes and if the students don't answer as in the book, the book scratches them.

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A sad beginning going toward a bright ending because of human connection ... a remarkable story sweep!

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My dear friend, this is a true story. Thank you for your kind words. Blessings.

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