Why the wedding on the feast of Saint John?

Penha! How many times, in my childhood, I climbed the 365 steps of the granite hill with my cousins, because of their grandfather, a very peaceful judge and with a lot of originality, who sometimes came from São Paulo to visit his son's family. Because this grandfather liked to read the Sunday paper on top of the cliff, in the big courtyard that surrounds the church, and he would take us to play up there! How many times, too, when this grandpa judge went to visit a sister in the south zone, did we return with him from Copacabana to Penha, a cousin taking her guitar, another her mandolin and I my Portuguese guitar; and downtown, on the walk to Praça Tiradentes, he always thought he'd stop to buy a world of fruit, especially large grapefruits, which he handed out to us as we boarded the bus to the suburbs. In general, the bus was full and we traveled standing up, clumsy, hugging instruments and grapes; but our quiet judge was not shaken, himself carrying so many other packages. In general, this happened when we were going to play at Centro Cívico Leopoldinense, as Penha is a suburb of the Estrada de Ferro Leopoldina. The four of us – because one of Penha’s cousins also played the guitar – studied with a Portuguese teacher, in carefully handwritten scores by him in the middle of class, and played a varied repertoire, ranging from “Tico-tico no Fubá” and “La Cumparsita ” to Schubert’s “Serenade”. The mandolin and the guitar played the solo, and the guitars accompanied it. I was in charge of tuning the four instruments and conducting (undercover) the ensemble. Our teacher was so patient with us… When he called me, he took the carioca squeak out of the “th” of my name and, Lusitanianly, said, rolling the R: – Rutzinha!

But, returning to the famous São João night, when we arrived at my aunt's house, the backyard was already full of flags, the bonfire was already burning brightly and all the typical homemade sweets were served, including the indispensable sweet potato. roasted over the coals of the fire. My uncle directed the fireworks display, and while the little kids played outside, we teenagers danced in the living room, with our cousins and friends from the neighborhood, who usually came smothered in the taxi of Seu Telmo, the father of one of them. , Telminho. Mr. Telmo's taxi was very old, the kind that, in addition to the two usual seats, had two folding seats in front of the back seat. I loved to ride in that chair. Telminho's parents always went to the party, several parents went and had as much fun as we did.

I remember that, some time later, Seu Telmo went up in life, he left the taxi. I didn't see him for many years, until one day, when I already had my four children, taking a taxi in Rio, I found Telmo behind the wheel.
- Your Telmo! It is me! Dona Olga's niece, from Penha! But, sir, what happened to you?
– Hey, my daughter, life is like that, sometimes it goes up, sometimes it goes down. And one fine day my star went out – he said, laughing happily – and I'm in my taxi again; But you know that's what I like?
I never saw your Telmo again. Life above, life below, always lively and joyful.

At my aunt's St. John's party, I don't remember if there was a gang. I don't think so. But there were several games for us, the “older ones”, including the famous cake with a ring hidden in each half. Thus, one half was cut into slices for the boys and the other half for the girls. The couple that found the rings was led to the wedding procession, with the simple joy of that time. Oh, I never forget the party where I found the ring on my piece of cake and had to be the bride. Well, isn't the groom just the boy who, at that time, was “my charms”?! Shy, embarrassed and emotional, we got married pretending, crowning the party.

Today, I keep thinking… Why the wedding at a feast of Saint John? Would it be the semi-conscious result of an age-old wisdom? That Saint John represents the last of the ancient prophets, linked to a state of ecstasy, of trance, and that opens the way for the new man, the Christ, who came to awaken man to discover his Self? Thus, the old state – ecstasy – is united with the new – awake, awake. Or is it because the soul, then hidden in the density of earthly life, discovers that it harbors the spirit within itself and joins itself to this discovery, in order to be able to grow? Today, I am thinking…

Ah, but at that time... at that time I just wanted to know how to set off fireworks, to make, with my cousin from Penha, a thousand braids in her little sister's straight hair, securing them with bows of the most varied colors, to eat the delicacies of my aunt, to dance, play and go out singing:

little melon chapel
is from San Juan,
it's carnation, it's pink
it's basil.

Saint John is sleeping,
don't wake up, no.
- Wake up, wake up,
wake up, John!