Leninha was a dreamer one. She liked to sit down to the margin of the river, that it passed at the ranch where she lived, inside Amazonas and to accompany the current of the waters, until that curves, where their eyes reached. It was beautiful that it curves of the river, in the "twilight" of the afternoon brought by the clouds, that passed in the sky on her head full of dreams and fantasy of happiness. The waters reflected the moonlight of the night, drawing silver threads and the majestic trees balanced their branches. And her soul was as the leaves of those branches, to the flavor of the wind, and as the clouds sliding in the sky... slightly... sweetly.

So, she was stayed, hours and hours dreaming. And if somebody asked her: - "With whom you dream, Leninha" - She Answered: - "With the Happiness - But, where is the Happiness? And the answer took form. It was the Love, in the figure of an elegant prince, mounted in his mettlesome horse, that one day would come to look Leninha and would take her for very far away, where this prince would take care of her, as if she was a queen. She would know other lands, other people, other manners. She would have many servants, butlers and a lot of love. She would be very happy. Very happy!

One day, he appeared, not a prince, but an artist, a painter, that with his smile, his colored screens and his brushes, he went entering gently in the screen of girl's life and coloring their juvenile dreams. Leninha fell in love with passion and with him she married, traveling to the big city, leaving the serenity of the ranch back, the trees, with their branches and leaves balancing to the flavor of the wind, the clouds rolling sweetly in the blue sky and the magic of the curve of the river.

She began a new life. The happiness smiled her for some time. And that time went passing, passing, the days becoming months, and the months in years of a tiring domestic routine of: to cook, to wash, to pass, to sew, leaving her exhausted. And her soul was exhausting for the weight of the fatigue little by little and of the melancholy. The husband, with the passing of the times, became irascible, implicating and rude man. He demanded the clothes better taken care, more well-done and more creativity in the preparation of the food. He complained of everything! He sometimes arrived home alcoholized and aggressive. Leninha, patient, assisted his cares without complaints, always solicitous, hearing and obeying his words, where he affirmed that the subservient was and it will always be inside the woman-wife's paper of the society.

Like this, in the course of time, it went increasing the sadness and the no-love sensation. Until that one day, the husband left for a trip and he never again returned, nor he gave news. Leninha tried to cry, but her eyes were dry. Alone, navigating in a ship without direction, in the revolted river of her existence, feeling the wind of the time dragging her in direction the last life's curve, she wondered: - " But where is the Happiness? - And as in a magic passes hands, she shimmered the father's smiling and affectionate figure caressing her the hair, and the beauty and the mother's softness singing ballads of singing to sleep, lost in the memory. She felt a pleasant and immense peace sensation and happiness and she saw himself seated to the margin of the river, calmly looking at that beautiful curve in the " twilight " of the afternoon, with the trees balancing their branches and their leaves, to the flavor of the wind, and the clouds sliding in the blue of the sky... slightly... sweetly..

(Story published in the Anthology " Felicidade em Prosa & Verso " - 2003, for the Publisher Alba of Varginha, Minas Gerais, pages 48 and 49).

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“ LENINHA AND THE HAPPYNESS” ( Story )