Futuro

Estou olhando papéis. Há uma desordem pungente de apostilas e cadernos na mesa, e a luz branca da luminária envergonhada perante a bagunça.
Será que existe algo mais precioso que o futuro?

A idéia de melhora, o sonho que se acalenta carinhosamente à noite, as ilusões registradas no diário. Essa palavra usada por pais e mestres, por engenheiros e prefeitos, investidores e agrônomos. Palavra que aparece tanto nas campanhas do governo!
E  o que é "futuro"? Eu respondo: um direito. Uma alegria. Um motivo para continuar. Uma meta, objetivo, um desejo escondido talvez.
Tudo, menos essa coisa desalentadora que se estende à frente de nossas crianças miseráveis; tudo, menos a iniquidade e sofrimento imposto a elas pelas circunstâncias - isso não é futuro. 
Pois futuro tem que ser escolha.
Aqueles papéis desordenados são meu futuro. São a educação, o estudo, o esforço, o suor e as lágrimas que preciso derramar em meu caminho. São os sorrisos, as letras, os livros, as conquistas e os prêmios que virão da certeza de ter feito a melhor escolha.
Este é o futuro que eu quero. Que me foi permitido pela vida, e ao qual eu me agarro em cada tempestade de incertezas. Esta é a minha arma contra os erros todos do mundo: conhecimento.
Para que algum dia o meu futuro seja o futuro de milhões de jovens, seja escolha e possibilidade na vida de todos.
Aqueles papéis são meu passaporte para seguir adiante, quem sabe no mundo lá fora; e algum dia ser mais um nome na luta pela paz, pela igualdade, pelo convívio, pelo futuro.

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