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“No, I want to gather them myself. They’re tastier then.”
“OK, then let me clean the bush a little, to make it easy for
you to reach the branch you want. Stand aside for a while.”
Bibi watched me impatiently as I pressed back the branches
to enable her to reach the blackberries hidden deep inside
the bush. I noticed a thick, dry stick lying on the path. I
picked it up and used it to hit to the right and to the left to
clear the branches. I broke the thick, thorny stems and
freed the way for my daughter. Then we started to eat the
puffy, dark red berries, so sweet yet with a pleasant, sourish
taste inside. I watched her from the corner of my eye, to
make sure she wouldn’t slip and hurt herself, and to protect
her from any dangerous animal, snake or scorpion. Her
small hands and beautiful face became red from the berries.
She was so absorbed in her task that she didn’t notice me.
She looked so confident, as though she didn’t need my help
to enjoy the fruit and could cope with the situation alone.
She stood on her toes, caught a big branch with abundant,
ripe berries, pulled it towards her and enjoyed the miracle,
so certain about her abilities. And suddenly I became
certain too of her power; I knew that she would cope alone.
I felt sorry for the bush, that I had crushed and broken its
branches so violently. I felt I was someone who had ruined
everything around him without any reason. I pictured the
scene of spoiled beauty in the wild loneliness and felt
regretful. Bibi screamed. She shook her hand and looked at