There are few occasions that I remember from my childhood have gone to that house, but those few memories are those that were deeply engraved in my memory, some others are barely visible and I can feel as if they were yesterday.
To reach the house from the city of Guadalajara, it was necessary to leave the free road to Barra de Navidad and reach Tula Union must take the road on the left. Before reaching the village you go down a hill on a curvy road. This hill is the hill of Morrito and its top is a small chapel, the chapel is to go through it ten & iacuyou, a habit of honking, though he will not listen to people, I felt like the welcome sign. When they were in the car listening to this signal, began to be alert, because going down the hill began to see the people, who in his time, the arrangement of their houses, giving the appearance of a scorpion (now the town has grown so that this appearance is lost, but its essence prevails). Seeing the people, still far (if that could sometimes habíaa the sides of the road the weed grown) all we pointed out we passed several special points muchour time: the gate, Christ the King, and even though we could not see, we tried to find that little house, "my grandmother's house Chayo" which in reality was bisabuelita, but Grandma was shorter and easier to remember.
Once entered the village, all the general excitement could be felt even in the brightness of our eyes, was like entering a wonderland full of freedom, happiness and all those emotions that lighten the soul. Was, in short, one of those emotions is almost impossible to explain but once you live it you never forget. This emotion traveled mainly to younger truck (transport was usually in the car, but other times we were in a truck comes only once to take the bus) who, a Once the car stopped, climbed out of him in droves and ran inside to completely forgetting our bags and / or travel obligations.
a traditional façade was not highlighted much of the rest of which there was, the wall was painted with two colors, somewhat faded by time The principal was a kind of beigeand white shooting with a border in red color. It had five windows: three of them longer, those who came almost to the floor and two normal (so to call them). The door was too wide and was a double iron door with textured glass windows, and protections. To enter a small step was uneven and seeing the house that stood on a slope, seemed to be crooked. On the right, watching from the front, there was a large window, made of wood and consisted of four doors, two windows that were like, opened the top and the bottom two that could make it look like a door. The other two windowsjos loving arms outstretched and gave us a cordial welcome to his humble home, always happy and whose long white hair kept in order arranged in a bun on the back of her head, her wrinkled skin but not betrayed his age , your lenses, always present in his thin little face was not an accessory, was something that would be recorded in our memories forever. Sometimes he was accompanied by my aunt Lupe who had become his companion and in the same way we were received with his unforgettable voice and an occasional comment about our "run like horses & rdquo ;, never offensive and always friendly. But perhaps
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