The bitter-sweet taste of disappointment
Let me tell you a story from when I was a kid.
It was on the eve of Easter, and I was coming back from my aunt carrying an object never seen before by my child eyes: a turkey egg.
She had boiled it and painted it especially for me to knock eggs with classmates when I went to school, as it's customary in our Christian Orthodox tradition.
I'm sure you know how a turkey egg looks like, but I'll remind you just to make sure you understand better what that egg meant to me: it's twice as big as a chicken egg and it’s slightly sharper and pointier in shape. This particular attributes made me think that it’ll win in any clashes with my other classmates' hen eggs.
I was already a champion in my mind: the toughest egg of that year!
Together with The Egg, my aunt also gave me some cakes and other good things, that I refused to take for fear they would diminish the care for The Egg, and that something wrong was going to happen to it on the way home.
I went on the road holding The Egg with both hands as if I was taking the Ring to Mount Doom.
The journey from my aunt to my home was about 5 kilometers. 5 kilometers on the roads of a small provincial town in the 90's did not present any danger compared to today’s conditions. There was no car traffic outside of the occasional tractor, or bus, and sometimes there was a cart; there were no strangers with bad intentions, nothing! ... except dogs!
Normally I was wearing a stick to guard myself, but this weapon had no place left in my small child hands already occupied with the precious object, The Egg.
I left with total confidence that somehow The Egg would make it so that I would not meet any dogs. (it was already a magic egg).
However, the magic hadn’t lasted long and two dogs appeared in my way that did not inspire too much trust, (as a matter of fact they seemed ferocious).
Preventively, when I was about 100 meters from them I started running away and ran for a few good minutes after which I stopped and looked over my shoulder to see the dogs prepared to bite me, but, surprise!, the magical power of The Egg was present, the dogs were no longer there. (they had entered a courtyard at the call of their master who gave them food)
The shorter the distance to my house became the more grew the importance of The Egg in my mind, so much so that when I entered the house yard The Egg was already shining over the entire neighborhood. I was the owner of an extraordinary thing, a magic egg.
All my friends came to see the miracle - ‘a turkey egg?!’
‘Yes, it's a turkey egg and I will crush all your eggs!’
Then, from the crowd, a child who had an egg in his hand and wanted to test the magical powers of my turkey egg. He knocked his egg against mine and ... my egg broke !!!!!!
The sky darkened, the sun suddenly disappeared , the birds went silent, nobody said anything, only my turkey egg started to show a few cracks.
But how? How could this happen? My egg is a magic one and cannot be broken especially by an usual hen egg!
And I was right about that, the other one was ... a wooden egg, shaped and painted to look exactly like any other Easter egg.
The dream of my magical egg broke down and my heart with it, too. I did not need or want anything anymore and so I went into the house to cry my sorrow.
My mother listened to the story and explained to me that in life not everyone plays by the book and that this should be a lesson to me.
But she also showed me that my egg really was magic, and after I wiped away my tears, I cleaned it and ate it with my brothers. And I do not think an ordinary egg, without magic in it, could have been so good !