(Motto: Members of corporative organizations all over Romania, stop!)
Winter… Winter morning… I was sitting in front of a small plate on which there was a higgledy-piggledy of apple pieces, bananas, and wall nuts that were waiting to be eaten. They looked beautiful to me, as they stood there, framed by the bluish rim of the plate, so when I sat down at the table I took some time to contemplate them. A Sun ray, looking like a blade, had entered through the window and most of it had stopped on the plate – like in an unknown geometric game – as if trying to tell me: “Look, isn’t it wonderful?” At that moment I felt the need to give thanks for the gift I had received.
Well, but… whom should I thank to?
Should I thank the plate? Well, I wonder how many people have sweated blood to extract the kaolin that others then processed – by some special recipes (sometimes kept secret from generation to generation), that others molded, others decorated (perhaps after a pattern invented by a hearted artist); and then, other people placed it in a specially built oven – with a technology only they knew. Finally, after passing through who knows how many hands, it ended on my kitchen table.
Should I thank the apple? Well, how many avatars did it go through from being a blossom on a tree until it transformed into a red-yellow, sweet and fragrant fruit, now cut into asymmetrical pieces placed in front of me? What wonderful alchemy made it possible? What role played the sun in the apple orchard? What about the rain? Would the apples have grown so big and juicy without the sun and the rain? What about the horticulturalist? What about the vender from the stall that barely held the apple mountain from where I picked some?
Should I thank the wall nuts? Well, only one who has never seen how wall nuts are picked cannot appreciate those little brain-like wonders. The hard labor of people that struggle with the mighty tree – using huge poles – to deprive it on time of its property can only be compensated by the crunchy savor that paints our hands and mouth in iodine colors. Or, maybe, I should thank the wind gusts that, in the middle of autumn, took the fruits down from the tree; and they would pop up and offer to gatherer their cores, still armored in wooden shells.
Should I thank the bananas? Well, who could tell the adventures the bananas went through from being a little bunch in the tuft of the palm tree that appeared after the sun rays kissed the huge plantation? Without the pickers who collected them before the fruits became ripe, without the effort made for them to be transported (imagine how much inventiveness and intelligence, how much work is stored in each truck and every ship that carries the bananas overseas – who thanks them?) would I enjoy their vitamins?
In fact, why bother? What is the reason I needed this plate and its contents? To feed my body (to which, I obviously thank) that keeps my mind able to encompass all that I have told you and without which I could not share my thoughts with you through this virtual channel (whatever that is, but my lack of knowledge cannot stop me to thank everybody who conceived it and keep it working, never stopping to improve it), and so on…
And those scientists that still struggle to point out at CERN that everybody and everything is one…
(P.S. Members of corporative organizations all over Romania, resume!)