Happy birthday, Romania!
Posted by ANDREEA TOCAN
If I were Romania, I wouldn't accept wishes from just anyone.
Only sincere ones would touch me, only real ones would make me happy, said with a smile, I would feel them to my soul only those that come from People who feel Romanian. Or who are People, simply, whatever language they speak.
If I were Romania, I would like to be able to somehow reject the messages of those who steal from me every day, of those who do not respect my forest and land, who defile my history, who disturb my waters and pollute my air, who are indifferent to my desires and pains, who are blind to countless crimes and deaf to cries for help. Of the hypocrites, who parade. Of those who have nothing sacred, but they lay their names on the chairs in the pews of new churches and the cross in the mirror.
How can they say "Happy Birthday!" to me, those who can't hear me cry?! Those who can't see me, bent over with pain, burdened with worries and cornered from all sides?! Those who can't see me mutilated, trembling in all my joints, increasingly weak and exhausted?! How can they congratulate me, those who have forgotten the taste of my fruits, the meaning of my customs, the meaning of my stories, the fragrance of my fields, the rustling of my fields, the music of my springs, the brightness of my sky, the sweetness of my doinas, the prayers of my mothers?! Those who have forgotten the magic of Christmas and the light of Easter holidays, with Romanian dishes and with tearful ancestors in the tent? What wishes can they make to me, those who have forgotten what it's like to run in the rain or lie down in the grass, to feel God?! Or... that God is in everything?! What can I wish for at 100 years old, for whom a hundred has a different connotation?!
If I were Romania, I would frown at those who say "Happy Birthday!" to me, in public. They even put the tricolor on their virtual profile, trampling it on the rest.
But I hug, tightly, those who tell me "I love you!", even if they chose to leave me for a little while. And I would like to bring some of them back! Those who want to change something (and they really do change, from afar)! Because I need my People, those who know that in this beautiful outline, like a bouquet of flowers, even if there are fewer and fewer people, it is increasingly suffocating to live.
If I were Romania, I would like to have by my side, on my birthday, only all those who, although difficult and with personal sacrifices, chose to love me unconditionally and help me be reborn, even though I don't offer them much in return. I would hug only those who feel, cry and smile like me, because only together with them would I wish...to grow older. Otherwise, what's the point of "growing old" if you're alone or lonely? But I'm not Romania. And I can live the way they want it too! And I can, and I want, and I strive to make it better for them too, even if it's hard for me. And I'm not alone! And, yet, not alone or lonely.
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