{"id":34370,"date":"2017-12-23T09:49:46","date_gmt":"2017-12-23T09:49:46","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/?p=34370"},"modified":"2017-12-23T09:58:35","modified_gmt":"2017-12-23T09:58:35","slug":"adriana-popa-%e2%80%9e-buna-dimineata-la-mos-ajun-%e2%80%9c","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/2017\/12\/23\/adriana-popa-%e2%80%9e-buna-dimineata-la-mos-ajun-%e2%80%9c\/","title":{"rendered":"Adriana POPA: \u201eBun\u0103-diminea\u0163a la Mo\u015f Ajun \u201c"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u201eDar de Cr\u0103ciun, c\u00e2nd fulgi sub\u0163iri de fum
\nCoboar\u0103 lini\u015fte pe suflet \u015fi pe drum,
\nC\u00e2nd bate-n geamuri cea dint\u00e2i colind\u0103,-
\nDin \u00eentunericul uitat \u00een mine
\nEu simt, \u00eenceti\u015for, cum vine
\nFeti\u0163a din oglind\u0103,
\nCum \u00ee\u015fi deschide ochii calzi \u015fi vii
\n\u015ei-mi cere iar\u0103\u015fi r\u00e2s \u015fi juc\u0103rii.\u201d<\/p>\n

(Otilia Cazimir-1939)<\/p>\n

\u201e \u00cen noaptea asta, Adi, sunt focurile. M\u00e2ine diminea\u0163\u0103 pornesc pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103ii, eu nu am uitat nimic, \u00eemi aduc-aminte tot, tot …\u201d mi-a spus azi, la telefon, Adam, boemul meu v\u0103r, din Austria.
\nFocurile….pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103ii din cartierul Ohaba-Bistra…obiceiurile….preg\u0103tirea prin datini, pentru ca Iisus s\u0103 se nasc\u0103 \u00een noi, \u00een sufletul nostru.<\/p>\n

E un decembrie mohor\u00e2t, bate v\u00e2ntul u\u015for, cu frunze \u00eenc\u0103 aurii de salcie, pa\u015fii mei se \u00eendreapt\u0103 spre niciunde, sau spre acel t\u0103r\u00e2m fermecat, pe care l-am pierdut odat\u0103 cu ridurile din col\u0163ul ochilor, peste care am depus straturi de celule descuamate, buze de geruri, fulgi \u00eenghe\u0163a\u0163i si zboruri risipite.<\/p>\n

Miroase a iarn\u0103 \u00een sufletul meu.
\nMiroase a fulgi, a trecut.
\n\u00cemi aminte\u015fte iarna de o alt\u0103 fiin\u0163\u0103 \u015fi-mi treze\u015fte suferin\u0163e \u015fi emo\u0163ii pe care le credeam ninse \u015fi ascunse sub frunze galbene \u015fi ghea\u0163\u0103.<\/p>\n

\u201ePi\u0163\u0103r\u0103i, pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103i,
\nD\u0103-mi \u015fi mie-un pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103u
\nC\u00e2t o fi de r\u0103u
\nS\u0103 m\u0103 duc cu Dumnez\u0103u.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ninge furios, din toate direc\u0163iile, cu gheare de v\u00e2nt. Casele din Ohaba au ferestrele aprinse, ca amintirea unui soare uitat de iulie afar\u0103, \u00een noaptea ce se las\u0103 \u00eencet.
\n\u201e Dac\u0103 ninge tot a\u015fa p\u00e2n\u0103 diminea\u0163\u0103, va fi z\u0103pada de un metru ! \u201c spune bunicul, \u00eentors de afar\u0103, unde fumase o alt\u0103 \u0163igar\u0103, din por\u0163ia zilnic\u0103 de dou\u0103 pachete de \u201e M\u0103r\u0103\u015fe\u015fti \u201c.
\nLa biseric\u0103, l\u00e2ng\u0103 Ieruga \u00eenghe\u0163at\u0103, dar \u015fi pe Oga\u015f, pe deal, ard focurile, unduind a gr\u00e2u \u00eenverzit \u00een oale sm\u0103l\u0163uite de lut ars, sem\u0103nat \u00een seara ultim\u0103 a lui noiembrie.
\nFocurile, \u00eempletite \u00een arcuri galbene si ro\u015fii, fur\u0103 f\u00e2\u015fii din noaptea de 23 spre 24 decembrie, ajut\u00e2nd lumina s\u0103 \u00eenving\u0103 \u00eentunericul. Poate \u015fi \u00eentunericul din sufletul nostru, pentru a accepta lumina Domnului.
\nCopiii c\u0103raser\u0103 toat\u0103 ziua lemne, coceni de porumb, crengi de pom, iar fulgii de z\u0103pad\u0103, curio\u015fi, se tot opreau pe c\u0103ciulile lor, trase bine pe urechi \u015fi pe m\u00e2inile \u00eenro\u015fite de frig, apoi o porneau iar, la goan\u0103.
\nDin camera mea, aflat\u0103 la strad\u0103, auzeam toat\u0103 noaptea pa\u015fii copiilor, care treceau spre focuri, z\u0103pada sc\u00e2r\u0163\u00e2ia sub bocanci, noaptea avea o lumin\u0103 alb\u0103struie.<\/p>\n

\u00cen ziua de 23 decembrie, bunica fr\u0103m\u00e2nta aluat de p\u00e2ine.
\nM\u0103 a\u015fezam pe lad\u0103, \u00een buc\u0103t\u0103ria cald\u0103, m\u00e2inile bunicii modelau aluatul ca pe o franzel\u0103. Bunica t\u0103ia buc\u0103\u0163i pe care le punea \u00een tav\u0103, ca s\u0103 mai creasc\u0103, \u00een timp ce ochii ei de ment\u0103 verde, cu nuan\u0163e de miere la lumin\u0103, supravegheau oalele de pe plit\u0103.
\nMa\u015fina de g\u0103tit \u00ee\u015fi deschidea larg, gura neagr\u0103, apoi z\u00e2mbea c\u00e2nd bunica scotea din cuptor pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103ii aurii, pe care-i punea \u00een dou\u0103 co\u015furi mari cu \u015ftergare cusute cu trandafiri.<\/p>\n

Diminea\u0163a de Ajun \u00eencepea devreme.
\nBunicul cur\u0103\u0163a z\u0103pada cu o lopat\u0103 de lemn, totul era alb, v\u00e2ntul, urcat pe st\u00e2lpii de neon privea doar, f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 scoat\u0103 nici un sunet.<\/p>\n

\u201e Bun\u0103-diminea\u0163a la Mo\u015f Ajun
\nC\u0103-i mai bun\u0103-a lu\u2019 Cr\u0103ciun
\nC\u0103-i cu miei, cu purcei,
\nFug copiii dup\u0103 ei. \u201c<\/p>\n

\u201e Soro- striga m\u0103tu\u015fa Marea- hai, c\u0103 vin pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103ii ! \u201c
\n\u201e Mari- se impacientau vecinele- ie\u015fi tu, c\u0103 trec pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103ii ! \u201c<\/p>\n

Bunica \u00ee\u015fi punea repede ghetele, se lega cu basmaua de l\u00e2n\u0103 neagr\u0103, peste p\u0103rul blond, ondulat, lua cojocul f\u0103r\u0103 m\u00e2neci din cuier, \u00een m\u00e2na st\u00e2ng\u0103 \u0163inea unul din co\u015furi, iar cu cea dreapt\u0103 punea c\u00e2te un pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103u \u00een traista at\u00e2rnat\u0103 de g\u00e2tul copiilor.
\n\u00cembujorati de nevinov\u0103\u0163ia iernii, copiii treceau ca frunzele din jurul cupei de argint pentru \u00eemp\u0103rt\u0103\u015fanie.
\nTanti T\u0103\u0163iana d\u0103dea mere \u015fi nuci cu coaja br\u0103zdat\u0103 de miresmele amare ale toamnei trecute.<\/p>\n

Eu nu am fost \u00een pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103i \u015fi nici la focuri, nu aveam cu cine merge, c\u00e2nd eram mic\u0103 bunica d\u0103dea pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103i, iar p\u0103rin\u0163ii \u015fi bunicul erau la uzin\u0103, iar c\u00e2nd am mai crescut, prietenele mele nu se mai duceau.
\nDoar Alina si Ate, copiii doctorului din Ohaba, mergeau tot timpul \u00een pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103i, chiar \u015fi c\u00e2nd eram la scoal\u0103 \u015fi ne interzisese \u00eenv\u0103\u0163\u0103toarea, Alina a plecat la Glimboca, unde avea bunici. Ei st\u0103teau \u015fi la focuri, se aprindeau aproape de casa lor, pe malul Ierugii. Diminea\u0163a, corul bisericii c\u00e2nta \u201e O, ce veste minunat\u0103 ! \u201c<\/p>\n

\u00cen schimb, Mihaela a fost \u00een pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103i cu Dode.
\nAtunci iarna avea clopo\u0163ei \u015fi ningea plin\u0103 de veselie din p\u0103rul alb al bunicului.
\n\u201e Vino, mami, s\u0103-\u0163i ar\u0103t, uite nuci, mere, pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103i…s-a umplut traista.\u201d Iar bunicului \u00eei str\u0103lucea aur \u00een castanele din ochi.
\nSpre sear\u0103 veneau colind\u0103tori, foarte mul\u0163i copii, a\u015fteptau la poarta verde, cum ie\u015fea o trup\u0103, intra alta.<\/p>\n

\u00cemi amintesc de iarna c\u00e2nd eram \u00een clasa a XII-a \u015fi m-am dus \u00een seara de Ajun, cu S\u0103ndel, la cimitir la Radu, cu lum\u00e2n\u0103ri, ne-a dat mama pi\u0163\u0103r\u0103i \u015fi pr\u0103jituri s\u0103 d\u0103m de poman\u0103.
\n\u00cel vedeam parc\u0103 pe Radu \u00eentinz\u00e2ndu-mi \u201e Muntele vr\u0103jit \u201c de Thomas Mann la ziua mea, lu\u00e2ndu-m\u0103 \u00een bra\u0163e \u015fi s\u0103rut\u00e2ndu-m\u0103, invit\u00e2ndu-m\u0103 la dans, \u00een holul Casei de Cultur\u0103 \u015fi voiam s\u0103 strig \u201e Nu ! Nu ! \u201c, s\u0103 \u00eempiedic acel accident, de parc\u0103 Radu ar fi disp\u0103rut atunci, acolo, \u00een fa\u0163a mea. Am \u00eenchis ochii, am str\u00e2ns pumnii \u015fi am a\u015fteptat o minune.
\nC\u00e2nd i-am deschis, S\u0103ndel m\u0103 \u0163inea de bra\u0163 \u015fi spunea : \u201e Radule, am venit la tine, cu prietena ta, sau a mea, nu mai \u015ftiu… \u201c
\n\u015ei se auzeau colinde, copiii c\u00e2ntau pe strada principal\u0103 \u015fi pe strada cimitirului. A \u00eenceput deodat\u0103 s\u0103 ning\u0103, iar fulgii se duceau, se tot duceau, p\u00e2n\u0103 c\u00e2nd ora\u015ful r\u0103m\u00e2nea \u00een urm\u0103 \u015fi totul era alb, alb, alb…<\/p>\n

\u015ei e iar decembrie, iar cerul, \u00eenc\u0103 albastru, catifeleaz\u0103 genele albe ale iernii \u015fi-n g\u00e2nd alerg cu un fulg de nea pe um\u0103r.<\/p>\n

\u015ei m\u0103 privesc \u00een f\u00e2nt\u00e2na din mine, \u00een apa ei ruginie cu ochii prelungi \u015fi, printre degetele mirosind a miere \u015fi pletele de culoarea gr\u00e2ului copt, \u00eentrez\u0103resc o alt\u0103 fiin\u0163\u0103, cu aripi de o frumuse\u0163e nefireasc\u0103 \u015fi r\u0103m\u00e2n undeva, \u00een urm\u0103, ca un alt eu \u00eens\u0103mi f\u0103r\u0103 contur \u015fi f\u0103r\u0103 regrete, de parc\u0103 propria mea privire \u015fi privirea din oglind\u0103 ar fi un col\u0163 de curcubeu \u015fi o dragoste ciudat\u0103 ce-o face pe ea, sora mea, s\u0103 creasc\u0103 din mine cu fiecare liter\u0103 \u015fi s\u0103-\u015fi topeasc\u0103 bra\u0163ele \u00een bra\u0163ele mele-ntinse.
\nIar pe masa sufletului meu pun o creang\u0103 de brad.
\nC\u0103ci, cine \u015ftie ? Dac\u0103 ei, surorii mele gemene, i se va face dor \u015fi va veni s\u0103-mpodobeasc\u0103, din nou, bradul cu vise ?<\/p>\n

————————————–
\nAdriana POPA<\/strong><\/p>\n

Timi\u0219oara<\/strong><\/p>\n

23 decembrie 2017<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201eDar de Cr\u0103ciun, c\u00e2nd fulgi sub\u0163iri de fum Coboar\u0103 lini\u015fte pe suflet \u015fi pe drum, C\u00e2nd bate-n geamuri cea dint\u00e2i [&hellip<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-34370","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articole"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34370","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=34370"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34370\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":34373,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34370\/revisions\/34373"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=34370"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=34370"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=34370"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}