Elizabeth

Because she to size makes a car to him and of cardboard, removing it from the imagination of his galera. She takes it to the bookstore from the hand to buy pinturitas and fine cardboards, to make the formula one, that all the fellow workers of mother and her, take pains to leave like a replica of a race car, that to him as much it would like. It is not the super electronic mega car that many children have and others would wish to have. Learn more at: Caterpillar. But it is happy. And its car is quick because it runs until flying, with the best thing than they can have a boy, and adulto/a that his inner boy remembers, the imagination.

Lourdes aunt fixes the clothes to him because him standard that is pretty to walk by the tedious life, clean and taken care of. Expensive aunt malcra she sees whenever it, gives chocolates him she invites, to watch it and she is the same that takes the hand him when it must take an ugly remedy, ugly, as I also do with his children. Aunt Elizabeth and To Daniel surprises, it and they see when it they have and it do not stop to embrace it. Nor that to speak, of my friend of the soul, for as much time, Graciela. Mother Blues, great mother. That she saw my bellies of my two children.

And it always had its ready hug and soon to contain and always I told to me on its unconditional aid for me and them. In short, the life tour that turns, everything returns and thanks to God, my children have their detachable aunts, as had I them sometimes. And it is not by a sanguineous bow that guarantees the bond, it is what he knew to win and is because in the life, sometimes it is wanted and it is loved, independent of which the nature signs by a DNA. So thanks to God, therefore mine and I know that I would be impossible a world without the aunts, of blood, but also a world would be impossible, without the detachable aunts. Those friendly of the soul, that God, the life, or the destiny knew to give to us. Because they are art and part of those things that always it has to us by hand, a time of roses, as Serrat would say.